The Hard-Boiled Poker Radio Show, Episode 20: Mel Blanc

Generally speaking, when life gets busy, the podcast tends to slip further and further down the list of priorities, I’m afraid. But I do enjoy creating new episodes of The Hard-Boiled Poker Radio Show whenever I can find the time. Managed to pull together the 20th one over the weekend, and have now posted it on the show’s website.

For this episode, I decided to focus on a few different items featuring Mel Blanc, the great actor and comedian who provided the voices for something like 300 different cartoon characters over his long, illustrious career. On the show I begin with a funny song by Blanc called “Money,” then talk about a couple of old Bugs Bunny cartoons in which Bugs plays cards. Finally, I play an entire episode of the old time radio show, The Mel Blanc Show.

There is a bit of gambling in the episode. Took me a good while to search through episodes of Blanc’s show to find any references whatsoever to card playing or gambling. But at last I found one. Unfortunately, the episode I found was one that did not feature my favorite element of Blanc’s show, namely, Jim Backus’s hilarious portrayal of Blanc'’s exceedingly vain acquaintance Hartley Benson. So I play a little bit of Backus from another episode right before the full show, just so to give a sample of this side-splitting character.

During the recording and mixing of this episode, I realized that despite my earnest efforts the previous episode (No. 19) had some sketchy audio here and there, although I think it is at least listenable. I wanted to say that this new Episode 20 sounds quite good in terms of audio-quality -- indeed, it might be the best-sounding episode I’ve done. I used a new microphone and did a lot of post-production noise removal and what not to make it sound good. Still not up to professional standards, but a decent job of faking it.

Also, as it happens, the recordings of The Mel Blanc Show are of excellent quality, which isn’t always the case with these old time radio shows from the 1930s, 40s, and 50s. So if you happen to give this episode of the HBPRS a spin, you can expect decent sound throughout. And a few grins along the way, too, I think.

As always, any feedback or suggestions are welcome. Comment here or over on the show’s blog. You can also subscribe to the show in iTunes (click here to get to the page in the iTunes store), where you can review it as well. Or just shoot me an email at shamus at hardboiledpoker dot com.

Work is calling, so I’m gonna go ahead and cut it short today and say...

The Written Word Remains

Not much time to write today, I am afraid. Of course, that makes me like most of the poker bloggers, actually.

Many of them have a better excuse, though, being in Las Vegas this weekend as they are for for the winter gathering of the World Poker Blogger Tour. Also known as the WPBT. Or the #wpbt.

Unlike my buds, I’m sadly mired under a heap of “real life” applesauce and will be for the next week at least, meaning I couldn’t make it out west to join in the revelry.

Speaking of poker blogs, the nominations for the 2009 Bluff Magazine Readers Choice Awards were announced earlier this week, and three of our faves -- Tao of Poker, Pokerati, and Wicked Chops -- were included on the “Top Poker Blog of 2009” list. The other nominee -- Poker News Daily -- is a site I frequent often as well, although I’m not sure it is correct to describe it as a blog.

There are 13 categories in all, some (best poker TV show, best poker podcast, best LV poker room) more interesting than others (favorite poker villain, favorite poker personality). You can find the full list of nominees and how to vote over at the Bluff site by clicking here.

Despite being a bit overwhelmed with work stuff, I did manage to find time to write a Betfair piece which went up this morning.

This one concerns an article by the journalist and best-selling author Malcolm Gladwell called “Open Secrets” that appears in his new collection of essays titled What the Dog Saw and Other Adventures. In the article Gladwell explains a distinction between “puzzles” and “mysteries” that I thought applied quite readily to poker. Kind of a “shots in the dark”-type post, I’d call it. Check it out.

Okay, time to get to work. Safe travels and good times, all you WPBTers! And be sure to write all about it. ’Cause, you know, cards get returned to the dealer, chips get cashed in, and limes get tossed away, but littera scripta manet.

Out of This World: The Isildur1 Saga Continues

So Brian Hastings, a senior at Cornell University, is trying to study for finals right now. I understand he’s having a hard time concentrating. Why? Word is he had a decent session at the online tables night before last.

How decent? Try about $4.2 million up. Sometimes taking a study break can be most beneficial.

That gargantuan session by Hastings thus provides us with the latest jaw-dropping chapter of the continuing adventures of Isildur1. Hastings won that big countryside-sized field of cabbage -- $4,206,964.19 to be exact (according to highstakesdb.com) -- in 2,867 hands of $500/$1,000 heads-up pot-limit Omaha versus the ever-ready Isildur1. Meanwhile Isildur1, having won earlier in the day versus jungleman12 (~$471,000) and Brian Townsend (~$722,000), ended December 8 down a total of $3,013,361.19 (in a little under 10,000 hands played).

That rivals Isildur1’s day back on Saturday, November 21 when he dropped around $3.3 million to Patrik Antonius and Phil Ivey, also at $500/$1,000 PLO. That was the day of the still-record $1,356,946.50 pot Isildur1 lost to Antonius. Still not as bad as his worst day when he dropped over $5 million, though.

Speculation about Isildur1’s identity has continued over the past couple of weeks, with no final revelation having been made as yet. On November 26, Tony G posted on his blog that Isildur1 was in fact the young Swedish player Viktor Blom. Ilari “Ziigmund” Sahamies also addressed Isildur1 as “Viktor” in chat during one of their sessions, which most took as further confirmation the player was Blom.

However, soon (on December 1) we heard news in a Bluff Europe piece that Blom was denying he was Isildur1. The next day another story popped up saying that the fellow issuing the denial was in fact a different person, a fellow named Victor Blom (with a “c”) who happens to live in the same Swedish town as the poker pro.

Hard to know, then, which of the stories to believe. Some have speculated that it would be in Blom’s interest to deny being pegged as Isildur1 because of a severe tax situation in Sweden. Gotta think the longer this plays out, the greater the chance we’ll finally learn once and for all.

Hastings wrote a lengthy post on his CardRunners blog that talks a bit about the session, though mostly just tries to place the day in the larger context of his life and career. Others who have played Isildur1 are talking, too, including Patrik Antonius, who recently was interviewed by Phil Gordon over on the Full Tilt Poker Academy site.

“He’s a very interesting opponent,” says Antonius near the start of the 18-minute interview, adding that he’s “very dangerous” because of his penchant for aggression, his desire always to play deep, and the way he constantly “wants to make big decisions all the time,” thereby always keeping the game at an intense level. Like Tony G does in his post, Antonius judges Isildur1 to be a talented player, and the Finnish stud especially marvels at the way Isildur1 seems always to make decisions especially fast, even when playing 6-8 tables at a time versus multiple opponents.

Gordon asks Antonius about bankroll management with regard to this $500/$1,000 PLO game, and Antonius explains that in truth “there are different rules for bankroll management when it comes to very good players.” There are also different rules, it seems, when dealing with stakes this high. The fact is, no one has the $300-$500 million Antonius suggests would be needed to play in such a game where one can lose a milly in a half-hour, or $3 million (or more) in a single day. So, in essence, for everyone playing the game it is “all like taking shots” -- something good players can handle much more readily than lesser skilled players.

At the end of the interview Gordon asks Antonius again about Isildur1’s remaining anonymous, and whether that gives him any advantage. Not anymore, says Antonius. Even though Isildur1 can apparently mix up his game quite effectively, by now he’s played so many hands he’s become more of a known quantity than he was when he first appeared a few weeks back.

According to highstakesdb.com, Isildur1 is now more than $1.5 million down overall. That’s after having peaked at more than $5 million ahead right around mid-November. The report on the Hastings-Isildur1 session notes how Hastings ran especially well during the session, hitting cards at a much higher clip than would be expected. (He ended more than $3 million over his EV.) Writes Baard, “it was clear from the comments [Isildur1] made in the chat that he thought he was caught in a parallel universe or something.”

To most of us, the whole Isildur1 story seems like it is playing out in a parallel universe. Actually not even “parallel,” as it is hard to see it having much relation to this one.

Definitely out of this world, though.

Speaking of Poker: What You Can and Cannot Say, Part II

Sean G added a comment to yesterday’s post about “Poker2Nite” mentioning that the show’s hosts had put out a new episode of the Poker Road Radio podcast, and that on that episode (12/6/09) they discuss the television show, some early critiques, and their efforts to improve it.

Ended up listening to the podcast later yesterday and greatly enjoyed hearing Scott Huff, Joe Sebok, and Joe Stapleton (who, indeed, is a contributor and writes the “Weekly Misdeal” segments) talk about the show. There’s a terrific interview in there with new World Series Main Event champion Joe Cada, by the way, with Cada continuing to come off as a down-to-earth, likable dude as well as a willing, able “ambassador” of poker. Both before and after the interview the hosts talk about “Poker2Nite,” and having just watched the first three episodes I found their discussion very entertaining and revealing.

The fun they had at their own expense -- e.g., laughing some at Sebok’s stilted appearance and delivery (especially on the initial episode) -- reminded me a little bit of a passage near the end of Victoria Coren’s new memoir For Richer, For Poorer: A Love Affair with Poker which I reviewed here last week. Amid a passage discussing the Hendon Mob forum and some of the more rude and critical contributors she’d encountered there, she notes how the original spirit of the site had become altered over time.

“The original idea [of the site] was all about self-deprecating British humour,” she notes. “The guys played down how good they were. They played up the bumbling hopefulness of the game, the borrowing of money to get into tournaments, the impoverished Delboy dreams of greatness.” (For Americans, that latter is a reference to the central character in a popular British sitcom “Only Fools and Horses” from the 1980s, I believe.)

Referring to her own sponsorship by PokerStars (and the cynical responses of some on the Hendon Mob forum), Coren wonders “With sponsors to impress and carping railbirds to placate, is there any room for humorous modesty?” She goes on to quote her friend and Hendon Mobster Barny Boatman draw a contrast with American culture, where “players talk up how great they are, how much better than the next guy,” something he finds “a bit crass.”

I realized listening to the PokerRoad Radio podcast a couple of things. For one, I was laughing a lot thanks to the off-the-cuff wit of the hosts, a lot of which, in fact, was derived from that willingness to poke fun at themselves -- that “humorous modesty” -- that Coren wonders might be threatened in poker by things like sponsorship, corporatization, and what might be called the “professionalization” of the game. (And which, I suppose, Americans are in fact capable of, too, here and there.)

The other thing I realized when listening to the podcast was how these elements -- the spontaneity and the “humorous modesty” -- were largely missing from the television show.

One can see an attempt to bring in some of both in the most recent episode of “Poker2Nite” with the addition of a segment called “All In Blind” in which Huff and Sebok picked topics at random and discussed them without apparently having prepped too much beforehand. It will be interesting to watch tonight’s show and see how the guys continue to work on incorporating these elements that make their podcasts so entertaining.

Speaking of the pressures of sponsorship, they were adamant about how UltimateBet (or “UB”) had given them total creative control over the show, and how none of the decisions made about segments or their content had been dictated by UB’s preferences. “UB has not tried to tell us one thing to put on the show or leave off the show,” explained Stapleton. Having watched those three eps, I’d say there’s no real reason to doubt that claim. Indeed I can’t say I ever was all that conscious of the fact that UB could have had any sort of editorial input when I was watching.

However, I did find very intriguing Huff’s explanation for why in their discussion of the big $1.35 million dollar hand between Patrik Antonius and Isildur1 (in the second episode) they were unable to refer to the fact that the pair was playing the hand on Full Tilt Poker. The omission was not because of UB’s sponsorship of the show, but rather because Fox Sports Network would not allow them to mention a “dot com,” real money online poker site on the show.

Explained Huff, “We are allowed to mention ‘dot nets’ but we also have to be factual as journalists.... This hand did not take place on ‘fulltiltpoker.net’ so for factual reasons we can’t say it happened on ‘Full Tilt Poker-anything’ because if we say ‘dot com’ it’s illegal [i.e., forbidden by the network] for us to say it and they’ll just bleep it or take the segment out entirely, and if we say ‘dot net’ we’re being factually incorrect, so it also can’t be aired. So the only option is to not mention where it happened and only mention the facts we are allowed to report on.”

Kind of amazing, really, and indicative of the delicate spot the guys sometimes find themselves on the show, reporting-wise. Stapleton then added a bit more clarification to the situation.

“If Phil Ivey had happened to be playing that hand, or someone who was in the United States at the time, we wouldn’t have been able to report on it, as per Fox,” said Stapleton. “We can’t talk about anyone playing online poker for money in the United States [because] in the eyes of the network, we are promoting illegal activity.”

Indeed, I remember at the start of that segment reference was made of both Antonius (a native of Finland) and Isildur1 (thought to be from Sweden) as “Scandinavian sickos,” and Huff also had mentioned -- seemingly unnecessarily -- that Antonius was a “Monte Carlo resident.” And at the end of the narration of the hand, Sebok noted how the money had “shipped straight from Sweden to Monte Carlo.”

Pretty strange world, if you think about it. A show sponsored by a “U.S. facing” online poker site, airing on a U.S. network, that can’t even mention that people in the U.S. can play online poker for real money. Makes one appreciate how hard it can be to find grins in the midst of such a humorless, litigious context.

Anyhow, for those with FSN, the show airs again tonight (Wednesday), and the rest of us can watch online shortly thereafter.

(I titled the post that way because this whole topic recalled an earlier one -- written two-and-a-half years ago -- in which participants on an episode of “Poker After Dark” were bemoaning the fact that they were not allowed to say certain words like “gambling” and “money” when announcing poker shows.)

Poker2Nite Brings Poker to the World

Finally had a chance to catch up with the first three episodes of “Poker2Nite” the UB-sponsored weekly show now appearing Wednesday nights on Fox Sports Net. I only receive a limited package which does not include FSN, meaning I haven’t been able to dial the show up on the crystal receiver when it airs. But all of the episodes can be viewed online. Search YouTube for the show, or just visit the show’s site.

The mere fact that any network would entertain the notion of a weekly half-hour of poker news is itself an indicator of the extent to which our beloved mutt poker has surprisingly dog-paddled its way into the cultural mainstream. What are we supposed to think of this? In truth, it is very difficult for those of us who are fully immersed in poker and the poker media to have any sort of reliable perspective when it comes to judging a show like “Poker2Nite.”

Someone like me -- not only already familiar with practically all of the news and stories that appear on the show, but also with the now-lengthy “pokertainment” careers of the show’s hosts Scott Huff and Joe Sebok -- will necessarily have a hard time making any sort of objective-sounding statements about the show’s quality (that is, to guess how the show probably looks to someone not like me).

The situation makes me think of having once seen a feature-length article in the late 1990s in The New Yorker about the group The Shaggs.

The Shaggs were this little group of teenaged sisters (the Wiggins) who were encouraged by their father to cut an album back in 1969 called Philosophy of the World. The album -- full of oddball songs like “Who Are Parents?” and “My Pal Foot Foot” -- would have certainly disappeared without a trace had not Frank Zappa, guest hosting The Dr. Demento Show in 1973, played “My Pal Foot Foot” and voiced praise for the band.

Gradually The Shaggs (who never made another record) developed a cult following. Later on, the iconoclastic Zappa would dub Philosophy of the World the third-greatest album of all time. Like others, I found The Shaggs through Zappa and came to appreciate their decidedly amateurish but weirdly infectious LP. It’s one of those you-have-to-hear-it-to-believe-it-type records that causes most to wonder “is this a joke?” (A question which is itself, one could say, a starting point for developing a philosophy of the world.)

Anyhow, I remember not knowing how to react when I saw The New Yorker piece. It was as if something the essential nature of which was private had suddenly been rudely exposed for all to examine. “How could this possibly play to a wider audience?” I wondered. “No one is gonna get it.”

Actually, I think I can say the prospects that people are going to “get” “Poker2Nite” are much better. The show is styled after other sports news shows like “Sportscenter” or the like, with Huff and Sebok seated behind a desk (most of the time) delivering stories, conducting interviews, and introducing prepackaged segments from the field (or “on fifth street,” as Sebok calls his segments).

The first episode (11/18) featured pieces on the WSOP Main Event conclusion, a short interview with Joe Cada by Lacey Jones, an longer interview with Lon McEachern by the hosts, and a report on Tom “durrrr” Dwan’s signing with Full Tilt Poker. The second (11/25) had some talk about Isildur1, a report from an Annie Duke-hosted charity tournament, an interview with Andy Bloch, and a bit about how poker players celebrate Thanksgiving. Last week’s show (12/2) mostly concerned the delay of the banks’ compliance with the Unlawful Internet Gambling Enforcement Act, including an interview with Poker Players Alliance Executive Director John Pappas.

No surprise to see Huff -- always terrific with the podcasts (in my opinion) -- function as a great host for this sort of thing. He looks to me as though he’s ready to step in over at the Fox Sports desk at any moment. Trying to imagine how those unfamiliar with PokerRoad or Huff or Sebok or even poker are going to view all of this, I’m guessing most who stumble onto FSN and see Huff are going to think he looks a little young but is a fine, capable host. They might even think like me and find him funny and likable.

Next to Huff, Sebok appears relatively less polished and/or comfortable, and I’m not certain how he comes off to the wider audience. I’m a big Sebok fan, but I ain’t sure how others operating the remote control are responding. This is where I think of The Shaggs a bit, and have to admit that, yeah, their guitars are a little out of tune. Okay, a lot out of tune. And yeah, I know, little Dot Wiggins’ voice sounds a little weird.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

I think even more along those lines watching Dana Workman’s “Weekly Misdeal” segment included in each episode, kind of the analogue to “The Tight Laydown with Joe Stapleton” that appears at the end of each episode of The Poker Beat podcast. I’m not seeing any credits for “Poker2Nite” to clarify, but I know I’ve heard Stapleton is involved with the show and am going to guess he’s writing those lines for Workman, most of which concern inside jokes about the poker world. I generally like Stapleton’s humor, but I’m not going to lie and say I’ve laughed all that much thus far at the “Weekly Misdeal.”

But hey, like The Shaggs sing, “It doesn’t matter where you go / It doesn’t matter who you see / There will always be / Someone who disagrees.”

I’m glad “Poker2Nite” is on FSN and I did enjoy watching the first three eps. But I haven’t a decent perspective on any of this, really. I can say that while I had misgivings about seeing that piece on The Shaggs in The New Yorker, I’m genuinely glad for the PokerRoad guys’ increased exposure on “Poker2Nite.” And optimistic about the show’s potential moving forward.

And like I say, I know for certain that Huff, Sebok, et al. have a much, much greater chance at achieving mainstream appeal than The Shaggs ever did. Don’t believe me? Here, listen to the title track from the third-greatest album ever:

The Familiar Struggle

Had kind of a so-so November, poker-wise, ending the month down just a touch (following an awesome October). Have been so busy of late I haven’t been able to play as often as I normally do. Usually I try to play at least a short session pretty much every day, but in November I see I only actually played 17 of 30 days. And so far in December I didn’t play at all until this past weekend, when I put in a few sessions of pot-limit Omaha.

Total hands in November amounted to just about 4,400. That’s compared to 8,100 in October. I generally fare better when playing shortish (100-200 hand) sessions, although missing days affects me negatively, I think, as I find it difficult sometimes to get my head back into the game (as the PokerShrink would say) when I’ve been away for even a short while.

I’ve written before about considering myself a “recreational” player, although perhaps a little more serious than most of that category when it comes to thinking about the game and trying to improve. Even so, I find myself often lapsing back into “Level 1” thinking at the PLO tables, especially when I haven’t been playing regularly. That is to say, I find myself thinking a lot more about my own hand than what my opponent(s) have, a bad tendency that leads to a more passive style that relies more on my catching cards than anything else.

Ian Taylor and Matthew Hilger talk about “Levels of Thinking” in their book The Poker Mindset: Essential Attitudes for Poker Success (2007). There they call the level where one is only thinking of one’s own hand “Level 0,” the level where one also considers one’s opponent’s hand “Level 1,” and so forth. The idea is the same, though, no matter how we number the levels.

I think PLO is a game where the difference between those two levels is perhaps more obviously noticeable than in, say, limit hold’em. Players who are brand new to PLO find it exceedingly difficult to put opponents on hands or hand ranges. (Hell, some find it tricky reading their own hands.) Even experienced PLO players like myself sometimes find it hard to keep thinking about opponents’ hands. And when you stop doing that, you necessarily become less effective.

As Taylor and Hilger say, “most players tend to think at different levels at different times.” Various factors come into play, causing us to move up or down levels, but the one they focus on is experience. “When a player is in a familiar situation, he is more likely to think at a higher level than usual,” they explain. “However, when faced with a difficult and unfamiliar situation, the same players will just revert to the [lower level] with which they are more familiar.”

Like I say, for new players especially, PLO presents a number of unfamiliar situations that cause one to focus more on one’s own hand than worry too much about what others have. Other factors can cause such lapses, too, like fatigue or tilt or whatever. But I like that idea that familiarity leads to clearer thinking, and thus helps one think more clearly about what the opponents have.

Thus the problem I’ve been facing with my intermittent play -- when I log on after missing a couple of days, I have to refamiliarize myself with starting hand values, bet sizing, calculating equity, etc. Such is the plight of the recreational player, I think. Also of the older player whose jingle-brain stopped growing probably before some of his opponents were born.

Now let’s see if I can remember how to post this sucker.

(That picture above comes from the poster for the 1987 film The Stepfather. I just wrote a little something about that film for Film Chaw today -- check it out.)

Doyle Brunson’s Confessions

Been absolutely up to my eyeballs with work over the last week. Have yet to get to The Gambling Tales podcast, which I’m eager to hear. Also have not seen an episode of Poker2Nite yet, but this weekend I plan to give it a look.

I did manage to follow a little of that House hearing yesterday, and greatly enjoyed Pokerati Dan’s live blog of the proceedings. Definitely sounds as though the overall tenor of the online gambling debate has changed markedly, and so -- regardless of one’s views on it all -- it will be most interesting to see what comes next.

I also was able to find time to read Doyle Brunson’s new autobiography, The Godfather of Poker, and write a review over on Betfair -- check it out.

I liked the book and certainly recommend it to those interested in learning more about Texas Dolly’s story. As I mention in the review, he pretty much covers it all here, and while the book’s organization seems to break down a little toward the latter stages, I found myself fairly engaged right to the last pages.

One aspect of the book I didn’t dwell on too greatly in the review was the occasional discussions of faith that Brunson interweaves into his story. By no means is Brunson heavy-handed about it. In fact, near the end of the book he makes a point to distance himself from any suggestion that he might in any way be attempting force his views on others.

“I’m often asked about the difficulty of someone in my profession being a Christian,” he says near the book’s conclusion. “I avoid those kinds of discussions. I only talk with people I feel are genuinely interested in what I have to say about my Christian experience, and what I did to get to the point where I am now. Everyone’s entitled to his own beliefs.”

Faith matters only come up occasionally in the book, and every time they do Brunson handles them sensitively and with that same, careful touch, always focusing more on the status of his own faith than presuming to evaluate others’ -- an exception being his praise for the devout faith of his wife, Louise, and that of his mother, too.

Like I say, these discussions were not a huge part of the book, but I’ll admit there was a moment midway through when I found myself thinking of St. Augustine’s Confessions and noticing more than a few connections between Brunson’s story and that famous fifth-century autobiography in which Augustine tells the story of his own conversion to Christianity.

I’m not going to go too deeply into the parallels I saw, since they’ll probably only be interesting to those who are familiar with Confessions. I will just list a few, though.

Both begin their stories with childhood, and both recount getting involved with various mischief during their youth. As a kid, Augustine and some others steal some pears they don’t really need; in college, Brunson and some others steal some items from a nearby cabin (also unneeded). Both express sincere repentence for these actions (and other sins). Augustine’s father dies when he’s a teenager, and Brunson’s when he was in his twenties. In both cases, the fathers have relatively small influence on the sons’ lives, particularly with regard to their faith. Meanwhile, both have Christian mothers who live long lives and influence their sons greatly.

Like Augustine, Brunson finds his calling only after having tried other paths first. (Indeed, both were teachers, though Brunson only for a short while.) Both experience illness and recover. Both also find themselves nearly overwhelmed at times with grief over the death of others, but eventually find solace and strength in faith to endure.

Both are also constantly surrounded by mentors and friends along the way. Indeed, there was one moment following the death of Doyle’s eldest child, his daughter Doyla at age 18, when Brunson goes to a pastor named Bob Tremaine who offers him guidance during a difficult time. Brunson also speaks of the support of his close friend David “Chip” Reese, who would often discuss scripture with Brunson as would others in a Bible study group led by Tremaine. Couldn’t help but think of Augustine being mentored by St. Ambrose here, or his friend Alypius who is with him when he finally converts (and who converts as well).

There are a few other connections, some of which might require a little stretching to work, but you get the idea. As I say, unlike Augustine’s Confessions, a book explicitly written to help guide others toward the path of Christianity (among other purposes), such an evangelistic motive is obviously not primary for Brunson in his autobiography. His story is somewhat inspiring, though, and while he is hardly a perfect person -- and is always quick to confess he is not -- he nevertheless does in some ways present us with a model to follow.

For a less idiosyncratic reaction to the book, check out the review. And have a good weekend, all!

Talking Online Poker: House Hearing Today

In a little under two hours, the House Financial Services Committee will be holding that hearing to discuss Rep. Barney Frank’s two UIGEA-related bills -- the Reasonable Prudence in Regulation Act (H.R. 2266) and the Internet Gambling Regulation, Consumer Protection, and Enforcement Act (H.R. 2267), both first introduced back in the spring.

As you recall, the Treasury and Federal Reserve granted a six-month delay for the enforcement of the final regulations of the Unlawful Internet Gambling and Enforcement Act of 2006, meaning banks and other financial institutions do not have to prohibit transactions with what they determine to be “unlawful” online gambling sites until June 1, 2010. (That doesn’t mean they cannot do so, if they wish, but only that they do not face UIGEA-mandated penalties for not doing so at present.)

The first bill, H.R. 2266, seeks a one-year delay, and so would push the deadline for compliance even further ahead to December 1, 2010. The second bill outlines a comprehensive system for licensing and regulating online poker in the United States.

Looks like the hearing will be featuring a number of witnesses with particular interest in and/or knowledge of the gambling industry (generally speaking), online gambling, internet safety, and the banking industry. Their testimony has already been posted over on the House Financial Services Committee’s website, so we can go ahead right now and get a decent idea what sorts of topics will be discussed later this morning.

The first witness, the Hon. Robert Martin, Chairman of the Morongo Band of Mission Indians opposes both bills. According to his testimony, Martin’s tribe, located in southern California, has employed as many as 2,500 (most of which are not tribe members) in its live casinos. He views H.R. 2266 as merely providing a further “safe harbor to those currently engaged in illegal online gaming” -- that’s his interpretation of the UIGEA’s characterization of offshore sites that allow U.S. customers. H.R. 2267 he views as posing a threat to the welfare his industry, paving the way for an unfair landscape in which tribes like his would not be able to compete.

The next witness is Ms. Parry Aftab, Executive Director of WiredSafety, “the largest internet safety and help group in the world.” She speaks in support of H.R. 2267 (and against the UIGEA), arguing that “the best way to protect families and consumers in connection with cyber gambling is by legalizing it, not outlawing it entirely.” Her testimony endorses the functionality of age verification when it comes to online gambling.

Then comes Professor Malcolm K. Sparrow of the JFK School of Government at Harvard University. (Is this a witness list or a game of Clue?) He’ll be addressing the question “Can Internet Gambling Be Effectively Regulated?” His written testimony consists of a lengthy (nearly 100-page) academic essay which I assume he’ll be summarizing for the Committee. The study was commissioned by WiredSafety, and essentially builds upon Ms. Aftab’s testimony that yes, indeed, online gambling can be regulated, and yes, in the opinion of Prof. Sparrow and his co-authors, the “establishment of a well-regulated industry under U.S. jurisdiction would offer a far better protection against online gambling’s potential social harms than outright prohibition.”

Mr. Jim Dowling of the Dowling Advisory Group is next on the list. Dowling is a fellow with some experience with trying to prevent fraud and money laundering. He appears “neither as an advocate nor a foe of Internet gaming,” but rather to share his view “that the current legislation prohibiting Internet gambling-related payments is lacking in regulatory support, and to be successful, the government -- probably the Justice Department—needs to provide banks an OFAC-like list of illegal sites that then could be blocked relatively easily.” (By the way, OFAC refers to the Office of Foreign Assets Control.) This question of providing a list of forbidden sites has been addressed before, and the feds have remained fairly steadfast in their unwillingness to commit to any such task. Dowling isn’t necessarily saying H.R. 2267 is going to make for a safer landscape, either, as he still maintains “legalizing Internet gambling poses significant money laundering and terrorism threats.”

After Dowling, Mr. Samuel A. Vallandingham, CIO and VP of the First State Bank, will speak as a representative of the Independent Community Bankers of America. Much as other representatives of the banking industry have done in past hearings on the UIGEA, Vallandingham is going to be explaining how arduous and unfeasible it is for the banks to be expected to enforce the UIGEA as it is written, and thus will be endorsing both of Frank’s bills.

The last witness on the list is Mr. Michael Brodsky, Executive Chairman of YouBet.com, a site that accepts wagers on pari-mutuel horse racing. Brodsky will speak in support of Frank’s bills as well, noting how he wants online gambling licenced and regulated. Skimming his testimony, I’m not seeing him specifically referring to the UIGEA’s “overblocking” of bets -- a great concern to sites like YouBet.com, which is why the horse racing folks got behind the petition to delay compliance with the UIGEA.

I’m sure we’ll be hearing from various Congressmen along the way, too, including Frank and the ever obtuse Rep. Spencer Bachus (R-AL), the highest-ranking minority member of the House Financial Services Committee who usually tries to link online gambling with suicide, terrorism, or other horrors plaguing our fragile, godless world.

While today’s hearing will produce a lot of news stories about the UIGEA and online gambling, it will be most interesting to see what (if anything) happens over the next couple of weeks with regard to either of Frank’s bills. While I wouldn’t mind seeing H.R. 2266 make it through and the delay get extended to a full year, I remain somewhat hesitant about H.R. 2267 and the idea of federally licensed and regulated online poker in the U.S.

My buddy the Poker Grump believes “federal licensure and regulation of gaming will eventually choke the life out of online poker,” and while I’m not entirely ready to commit to that as a certainty, I do have a lot of reservation about what such a regulated and licensed world might be like. (In particular, I fear those state opt-outs which might result in my not being able to play at all.) I do agree that online poker under the IGRCPEA (or whatever we want to call H.R. 2267) ain’t gonna be preferable to what we have now. But it doesn’t seem as though what we have now is going to be an option beyond some, ever-nearing deadline.

If Frank’s bill doesn’t pass and the UIGEA eventually does get implemented, that will spell some serious short-term damage to online poker in the U.S., probably followed by a court challenge to the UIGEA (which may well be successful). Thus, the UIGEA could get “overturned” without our having a bill like Frank’s get passed, although I can’t imagine that happening without the industry having to endure a few years of big time hurtin’ during the interim.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. That’s where we be, I think.

It Goes Without Saying

From the Department of Redundancy Department: Yesterday my local sports page featured not one but two editorials by regular columnists calling for Tiger Woods to tell the world what exactly happened during the wee hours of last Friday morning when he crashed his Escalade.

The op-eds ran side by side, both beginning on page one of the sports section, then continued together on page four. But it wasn’t one of those “you take one side, I’ll take the other” deals -- no, both writers were making the same point, in almost the same terms.

Both mentioned how Woods named his yacht “Privacy.” Both brought up David Letterman as a counterexample of public confession. Both seized Woods’ statement that “This situation is my fault” (from his website) as opening the door to a wider range of possible behaviors or actions for which he might be culpable.

“There's a difference in hiding something and choosing to keep it private,” concluded one. “Clearly, you're hiding something here,” said the other, speaking directly to Woods. “Explain yourself. First, to the police. Then, to the public.”

More than a little presumptuous, really. Not to mention superfluous. I wondered if the writers had themselves been too private about what they’d chosen to write about for their columns yesterday -- a little talk over the cubicles might’ve prevented our having to read the same message twice like that.

Of course, they weren’t the only ones making the same argument. Most of the media seems to have taken up an identical cause over the last day or two, appearing to devote more attention to the Woods incident than to the news that 30,000 more troops are heading to Afghanistan. By doing so, they prove their own argument that the less Woods says, the more others will speculate about him.

You’ve probably picked up on my cynicism regarding it all by now, and indeed, I have no intention to provide any sort of “op-ed” (in either direction) on the topic. Instead, I’ll just make an observation about it all that is perhaps obvious to poker players. Some, anyway. The kind of thing that goes without saying. Namely...

The less you say, the more others will speculate about you.

In terms of poker news, we’ve kind of witnessed a version of this idea with the whole “Who Is Isildur1?” phenomenon of the last few weeks. But I’m referring more specifically to the frequently encountered situation at the tables wherein the player who refuses to give any extraneous information via speech or physical tells becomes increasingly provocative to others, especially if that player is winning and/or has otherwise demonstrated a proficiency with his or her play.

In the second volume of his Harrington on Cash Games, Dan Harrington includes a chapter on “Tells and Observations” in which he largely diminishes the importance of reading others’ physical tells (making note of betting patterns is more important, he argues), but does say that “controlling your own tells is ‘Job Number One.’”

Harrington offers some advice regarding how to go about revealing as little as possible about yourself, including describing what he calls “The Patrik Antonius Way.” Explains Harrington, the Finnish pro well exemplifies the “classically simple” method of information-hiding when “he just sits at the table, stiff as a board, and stares silently at a fixed point in space.”

If you think about it, these same sports writers have been heaping praise on Woods for years for what might be called his “classically simple” method of hiding (or keeping private) any extraneous information on the golf course -- of being able to shut out all and incredibly maintain his famous “focus.” He’ll show emotion sometimes, sure, but there’s no disturbing him from that next shot. And that ability to focus disturbs his opponents.

Or it can, anyway. Many have noted the “Tiger Woods Effect” over the years, whereby other players play less well when partnered with him or even when playing in the same tournament. In fact, there was a scientific study published late last year by Jennifer Brown (a professor in Northwestern University’s Department of Marketing and Strategy) that attempted to quantify “the (adverse) incentive effects of competing with superstars” in which Woods was used as a primary example. Among other findings, Brown noted how in the tourneys she studied players averaged 0.8 strokes less per tournament when Woods was also playing.

Says Brown, “My calculations suggest that Woods’s PGA Tour earnings would have fallen from $48.1 million to $43.2 million between 1999 and 2006 had his competitors’ performance not suffered the superstar effect.” “Viewed in this light,” the effect of Woods’s mere presence in the field represents “is economically substantial,” she concludes.

Brown isn’t specifically referring to Woods’s ability to resist giving his opponents extraneous information while playing, but I think we can add his unwavering focus on the course to the list of qualities that unnerve his opponents, perhaps increasing the significance of that “superstar effect.”

Anyhow, now the superstar ain’t talking. And that’s causing everyone else to talk about him. Such a strategy works well -- can even be “economically substantial” -- at the poker table, or even on the golf course. But as the preponderance of these editorials suggests, I guess the “effect” is probably a little less desirable here.

Poker Book Review: Victoria Coren’s For Richer, For Poorer: A Love Affair With Poker

I have written about Victoria Coren here before on a couple of occasions, having heard her on podcasts, occasionally read her poker-related columns in The Guardian, and covered her in a few tournaments, both live and online. In one post, “Victoria’s Secrets,” I wrote about her very interesting interview with Gary Wise in which she offered some insights about the whole men-vs.-women-in-poker thing, as well as discussed writing and poker and the great poker narratives such as The Biggest Game in Town (1983) by Al Alvarez and Anthony Holden’s Big Deal (1990).

In that interview with Wise (from January 2009), Coren mentioned that she was at work on her own poker narrative. The book, titled For Richer, For Poorer: A Love Affair with Poker, arrived this fall. I recently had the chance to read and review it, and wanted to share a few comments here about the book as well. The book primarily functions as a “poker memoir” chronicling Coren’s poker career -- from her first learning the game as a teenager from her older brother in the late 1980s to her becoming a European Poker Tour champ and a PokerStars team pro. The book is much more than that, though. Let me explain.

The category of “poker books,” despite being a teeny, tiny niche (really), includes a wide variety of styles and subjects. Go to Borders or Barnes and Noble and on the “poker” shelves you’ll find jammed together strategy texts (covering a wide variety of games, both cash and tourney), simple “how-to” primers, rulebooks, biographies, autobiographies, histories, and more. People visit these shelves for a number of different reasons, and in a lot of instances, books are prejudged by the (potential) reader’s idea or opinion of the poker-playing ability of the author. Such preconceptions have relevance, certainly, when considering a strategy text, though aren’t necessarily as valuable when considering other, non-strategy works.

As a poker player, Coren has had some success, highlighted most prominently by her victory at the EPT London Main Event in 2006 (a sweet £500,000 score). Some -- especially poker players who tend to adhere to the “time equals money” formula -- will not be persuaded by her other, less obviously remarkable results to consider her memoir worthy of their “investment” (in time or in cabbage). Such folks will be missing out on a well-crafted, perceptive, and witty example of storytelling which I would think should appeal to all poker players. Probably would interest some non-poker players, too, I’d imagine.

Coren does tell the tale of her 2006 EPT success, cleverly winding her narrative of the most significant hands from that final table with the primary autobiographical thread. Each chapter is punctuated with a hand, and it is in those interludes one encounters the bulk of the “strategy” talk in the book. But even there the emphasis isn’t so much on strategy as on relating Coren’s ups and downs as that dramatic final table plays out.

Meanwhile, as mentioned, the autobiography begins with Coren first learning the game as a teen, then going to college after which she takes a turn as a standup comedian. Eventually Coren finds herself repeatedly returning to the Victoria Casino in London (the “Vic”), enamored with other gambling games (especially roulette) but eyeing the poker tables as well. Then comes an opportunity to go to Las Vegas to interview Huck Seed for a newspaper. Seed had just won the 1996 World Series of Poker Main Event, and for Coren the opportunity provides a kind of “seed” -- my groan-worthy pun, not Coren’s -- for a career in journalism as well as for her continued pursuit of poker.

The rest of the book carries her story forward to 2006 where the twin narratives finally join together -- in surprisingly dramatic, even moving fashion -- near the book’s conclusion. Along the way, we read about Coren’s becoming involved with “Late Night Poker,” the ground-breaking poker TV show that debuted in 1999 and on which she eventually appeared both as a player and a commentator; her early experiences at the Vic and in Vegas, including her first participation in events at the WSOP; her developing many friendships with poker players, with nifty character sketches of figures like Dave “Devilfish” Ulliott, Neil Channing, John Duthie, Hamish Shah, Roland de Wolfe, and the Hendon Mob guys; her other, more significant relationships with men (all discreetly handled); and the illness and death of her father, the satirist Alan Coren.

A few themes emerge over the course of the book, besides the ongoing “education of a poker player” that is happening throughout. As one might expect, there is the whole “woman in a man’s world” motif, symbolically introduced in the book’s opening line: “My brother’s game is on the other side of that wall.”

As in that interview with Wise, Coren makes some keen points here when discussing the subject of women in poker. “Men and women are not sufficiently different, psychologically, for either gender to be ‘naturally’ better at poker than the other,” she maintains, though quickly adds that she is “not saying that gender differences don’t exist.” She goes on to speculate that “If the differences between men and women are relevant to the game at all, it should be true that women’s traditional qualities of craftiness, patience and guile should balance out the male instincts of aggression, bluff and bluster.”

When playing at the Ladies Event at the 2001 WSOP, Coren notes the strangeness of the scene -- that is, a poker room filled with hundreds of women at the tables and no men -- humorously describing it as “like science fiction.” “It’s a vision of how the world could have been,” she writes, “if somebody stepped on a butterfly and it all turned out different.” While not everyone is going to agree with her conclusions on this subject, I think her book does provide a valuable contribution to the ongoing conversation about women in poker.

Another, somewhat related theme that emerges in the book is suggested by the title, taken from traditional wedding vows. Coren frequently notes how her path in life has not included marriage or children (yet), and indeed poker -- with whom she’s had a lifelong “romance” -- kind of takes the place of that traditional sort of relationship. (As she notes in the preface, “poker is the most companionable thing I do.”) There is also a lot in there about the “the romance of poker” and its various thrills, all of which she relates accurately and effectively.

Those of you who have read Coren’s columns know she is both witty and “literary” in her writing -- that is to say, she definitely can make you laugh, but she can also deftly employ various poetic devices (symbol, metaphor, allusion) to help her communicate her intended meaning. I could make this post even longer by citing the many examples of both her wit and literary sensibility, but I’ll confine myself to sharing just one of each.

Among the book’s many laugh-out-loud moments is Coren’s account of her meeting Phil Hellmuth in 2001. He’d come over for a series of “Late Night Poker” in which Coren was also participating, and a group goes out for dinner. Ever the entrepreneur, Hellmuth begins describing his idea for an album -- The Phil Hellmuth Poker Album -- for which he’ll compile songs from other bands’ outtakes. Coren questions him about the project, not understanding what exactly makes it a “Phil Hellmuth” album or a “poker” album. “‘I will have collected the songs,’” he explains, excitedly (and enigmatically). “‘And I’m a poker player.’”

Coren’s response is to cite the lack of relevance. “‘You might as well gather up a bunch of animals,’’” she says, “‘put them in a field and call it The Phil Hellmuth Poker Farm.’”

As far as “literary” moments go, I especially like one Proustian passage in which she shares a flashback to a trip to a flea market as a 12-year-old with her father, a memory which is in fact inspired by her account of a Vegas trip and a particularly successful run at the craps tables with a group of friends. It is “one of those moments you dream about in gambling,” she explains, where the group keeps winning and winning. Her description of the run dissolves into a giddy, lyrical expression of that hard-to-define pleasure that comes from winning (and, not incidentally, from experiencing meaningful companionship, too): “We cannot lose. We will never lose again. We will never be lonely, we will never get ill and we will never die. Our chip towers are rising and rising and rising and rising. Dice are beautiful. Everything is beautiful. Everybody’s beautiful.”

Like I say, there’s more here. But I think you get the idea. There’s some strategy talk, but that’s not why you pick this book up. Rather, For Richer, For Poorer is for those who love literature, who love to laugh, and who love poker.