The Hand, Not the Heart

Stohlermandude Calls
Your BluffIllustration by
Master Matt

Poker is a game of bluffing. I'll lead you to believe that I started playing poker because of the Robert Altman film California Split when, in fact, it was the cheesy flick Rounders that peaked my interest. I'd like you to think that my first TV exposure to poker was Deuces Wild when it was actually Chris Moneymaker winning the World Series of Poker on ESPN that got me hooked. I will tell you these untruths to engender a sense of awe that I am in the poker avant garde and should be trusted so that later, when I say things like "I play poker as something to do with my hands while I drink with friends" you will believe me. Poker is all about bluffing—but bluffing only works if people believe you.

Of course, this isn't a “how-to” article on bluffing in poker. If you're a post-collegiate, pre-professional twenty-something, then you already know how to bluff. You bluff all the time. You bluff to yourself ("This paper deserves an A and I deserve another drink"), bluff to your friends ("Of course I agree with you that there's a noticeable difference between the Shawn and Matt eras of Tapes'n'Tapes"), or bluff to your company ("I am working on this very important project full-time. I am definitely not writing an article on poker and reading biographies of Tapes'n'Tapes while I am at work.”). We are all practiced in the art of deception. But this is beginning to sound like a half-ironic send-up of a "Life is Poker, The Rest is Just Details" shirt, and that is not my intention either. So, this is not a “how-to” article—it is a speculative “why” article.

Perhaps you, like me, found Rounders appealing because of Matt Damon's preternatural ability to read his professors' minds or the look on John Malkovich's face when Teddy KGB's tell is finally revealed. Perhaps you were enthralled by David Cross's resplendent performance on Celebrity Poker Showdown. Most likely, it was Chris Moneymaker, the professional accountant who won the World Series of Poker, who drew you in. His Cinderella story was gripping (despite the absence of poker announcer Gabe Kapler’s dulcet tones). It's likely that one of these astounding performances drew you in to poker, but why have I/you/we stayed? I personally play poker so I have something to do with my hands while I drink with friends.

I've never played an entire game of poker sober. Not even when I played with my in-laws did I totally refrain from alcohol (leading to a hilarious episode in which I said "fuckballs" in front of my new mother-in-law). I once began playing a poker video game sober, but it quickly drove me to drink and turn off the PS2. There's a symbiotic relationship between poker and drinking. I'm guessing that most of you readers aren't yet to the
come-on-over-and-talk-about-mortgages-and-vacation-houses-and-how-difficult-it-is-to-get-our-kids-into-a-good-preschool-cocktail parties point in your lives, but I'd also wager that you've got at least one foot out of the bar scene or you do a substantial amount of pre-drinking at home before heading to the pubs. Well, if you're not comparing tasting notes on Chablis and swapping stories about Timmy's ACT Prep/Irish dancing class, you're going to need a reason to have people over.

Sure, you could listen to music or watch TV, but then you'd just end up talking about how derivative Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is or who’s in the lead on America’s Top Model. When playing poker, you are doing more than that. You are drinking with your friends, talking about your lives, occupying your hands. And having something to do with your hands is key, because it keeps you from drinking too much. I've never played sober, but I've never had to boot and rally during a poker game either.

Of course, if poker was simply a game to keep your hands busy, it wouldn't be very interesting or popular. What keeps you playing is the drink, to be sure, but it is also the stakes—though not the stakes you might think. Certainly, money plays a part in our desire to play. We don't have vacation homes or tenants, so winning an extra $5 actually helps our checkbooks (if only to defray the cost of beer). Even if it's a $30 buy-in, the stakes that matter are catching our friends in lies without jeopardizing our friendships. If we are actually called on any of the bluffs we make throughout our day (say, if someone actually asked me to elucidate the difference between Shawn and Matt, or if my workplace took away my computer’s alt-tab abilities), the consequences could be severe.

In poker, however, you only lose the chips you put into the pot. Being called on a bluff and losing $2 by representing a flush when you're holding a pair is a lot more palatable than being called on your affinity for The Sea and Cake or your claim that your thesis is going really well. Poker allows us to see how well we know our friends. But the costs of gaining that knowledge are limited by the game. Unlike Truth or Dare, poker doesn’t drag out dirty secrets about who slept with whose girlfriend. It’s a matter of the hand, not the heart.

I should close by looking you all straight in the eye and saying something savage like "Ultimately, I just play to take your money," but I won't do that. Instead, I'll tell you that poker is really just a basic game of statistical probability. But unlike a pre-calc or statistics class, you can drink and talk to your friends, which makes statistical probability a hell of a lot more fun.

And ultimately, I do get to take your money.