Tales From the Felt-Playing Poker Around-the-Clock

Poker is many things to many people. However, the essence of poker is that it's a game of opportunity. It provides an opportunity for people to improve themselves. It's a means of redistributing wealth. It provides an economic ladder to an entire class of individuals who might otherwise be working at low-paying jobs. It challenges conventional attitudes and outdated values about money and social status. Above all else, it's a game that does not discriminate by sex, race, nationality, religion, or level of education.

People who are disadvantaged in mainstream society – perhaps because they were born in a foreign land and can't speak English fluently, don't have an advanced college degree, or don't fit the perfect profile of the corporate mindset – often excel inside cardrooms. In fact, many of these individuals have earned hundreds of thousands of dollars and have risen to the top of the poker pyramid at the expense of those who have profited handsomely in mainstream occupations. Call it "sweet revenge." Perhaps the real truth is that, for some, poker has been a way to achieve social and economic justice.

But poker is more than just a vehicle for economic and social transformation. It's one of the few activities that goes on continuously. While free market forces operate within a narrow time frame, and the rest of the world punches a daily time clock, waking by day and sleeping at night, poker has no constraints of time. It's played 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. In some cardrooms, poker games that began years ago are still going on. Sure, the players have come and gone and come again, but the game never ends. Right this instant, no matter what time of the day you are reading this column, thousands of hands are being dealt. In most cities, you can find a good poker game just as easily at 3 a.m. as 3 p.m.

Because poker is an around-the-clock activity, many of us poker players are forced to live unconventional lifestyles. We often work at night and on weekends. We anticipate holidays – not because they enable us to take time off, but because holidays usually bring in weaker competition and the games are more profitable. Friday night to a poker player is like "Monday morning" to a regular working stiff. The work week is just beginning. Many of us work at night and sleep during the day. We see movies at 2 p.m. and eat lunch at midnight. It's a world turned upside down and inside out with reversed timetables. Inevitably, this topsy-turvy atmosphere creates conflict with some normal everyday activities.

Outside the cardroom, poker players are forced to live by society's rules. It's a cruel adjustment. Try to see a doctor, make a dental appointment, get a car loan, or enter a bank when it's convenient for you, and you are apt to find the doors locked and the lights out. Most businesses open at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m. and close just as many of us are having our first cup of coffee. Some people even have to get up at 6 a.m. Can you imagine? Eating is another problem. Try to get a decent meal in any city other than Las Vegas after midnight and you're going to end up eating at Denny's. In short, the regular working stiffs have a huge edge outside the cardroom, just as sure as we have the advantage inside.

Indeed, those of us who are disadvantaged in everyday life and who are at the mercy of the time tyrants have distinct advantages inside the cardroom. Because we have adjusted to our lifestyle, we are able to suspend natural physical instincts that tell us when it's time to sleep and when it's time to wake up. Our opponents are not quite so fortunate. Doctors, dentists, bankers, and people with regular jobs often stay out and play poker far too long. They play during the week or get fatigued on weekends when they are not used to being awake at 3 a.m. They tire easily. Their skills deteriorate. They burn through more money than they had planned. You see it happen every night.

As I previously stated, poker is a game of opportunity. The right conditions for winning do not always present themselves at the most convenient time. The best opportunity often comes when we least expect it, and even when we may not feel up to the challenge. For this reason, I have always preferred to play poker during the graveyard shift; 4 a.m. for me is like 4 p.m. to most people. On the graveyard shift, I often see players who are tired, on tilt, playing to get even, and emotionally distraught. Some players are big winners and are now more carefree with their money. No one can play their best poker under these conditions. This is what I call "prime time." Give me a poker game at 3 a.m. vs. 3 p.m. anytime. I'll be there.

Not everyone can play around-the-clock or for days at a time. When it comes to playing many hours without sleep, I'm fortunate to have pretty good stamina. I can usually stay focused and play a good game no matter how long I've been at the table. Just as there are "morning people" and "night people," I believe some players have a natural ability to suspend their internal time clocks, while others feel drowsy because their bodies are telling them it's time to sleep.

Poker games used to last for days at a time. The higher the stakes, the longer the game usually lasted. Whether it was illegal underground games on the Southern circuit or high-stakes poker in Las Vegas, the games many years ago were just as much a test of physical and emotional stamina as poker skill. The man with enough fortitude to outlast the others was likely to be the man with the most chips when the game was over. In some ways, not that much has changed.

In 1993, when poker was first legalized in Atlantic City, the games were unbelievably good – around-the-clock, seven days a week. But the action on the weekends was even better. Poker players drove in from the large cities of the Northeast – places like New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington – and the rooms in Atlantic City were packed with tourists. In fact, Atlantic City poker was a gold mine for the first couple of years. It was like a modern gold rush, the likes of which we have not seen since.

My "Monday" usually began on a Friday afternoon. I regularly played all the way through to late Sunday night. I tried to nap during the early-morning hours if I had the chance, but the games were so good that it was just too expensive to go to bed. If you went to bed for eight hours, you were costing yourself nearly two big bets an hour. Add the cost of a $100 hotel room, and a night of sleep cost several hundred dollars. I suppose the best way I can explain it is that it's like getting ready for bed, then hearing that an armored truck has dropped a bag of money on the street below and $20 and $50 bills are flying all over the place. I mean, how are you going to sleep if you know there's money floating around? That's what it was like in Atlantic City back in 1993.

As the players improved, the games got tougher, of course. After a few years, the gold rush was over. I began to travel elsewhere to find juicy games – to California, Las Vegas, and other places. I did take things to the extreme a few times. On a visit to Las Vegas a few years ago, I started playing poker on Thursday at noon. I stayed up and played around-the-clock. Before I knew what time or day it was – it was Friday morning. My wife, Marieta, pressured me to get some sleep, and I agreed. I told her I'd be up to the room at midnight, and would get a decent night's rest. Well, wouldn't you know it, I got into the best Omaha high-low game I've ever seen that night. There was one player who played every hand to the river – every single hand. After he bought in almost a dozen times, he finally excused himself at 5 a.m., explaining that it was the first time he'd ever played Omaha. I mean, how can you leave a game like that? It would take a team of wild horses to pull me away from the table. I'm not going to leave a game like that – ever.

At about 8 a.m., Marieta came down to the poker room and saw me sitting there propped up on a couple of seat cushions flinging chips into the pot. I felt bad that I had not kept my word about going to bed the night before, but when she saw the racks of chips piled up, she knew immediately what had happened. She understood.

Since it had been two days since I'd slept, Marieta suggested that I take a short nap. The trouble was, there was a 10 a.m. no-limit hold'em tournament, and I was already registered to play. So, there was no way that I could leave. The tournament started with 180 players. I managed to survive eight hours and made the money by finishing 12th. After that, I took a shower and got dressed. That night, we heard Chris Ferguson give a speech at a banquet. He talked about how to play hands, and I hung on every word, pumped with adrenaline.

On Saturday night, I went out and played another seven hours. The next morning, I finally crawled into bed and had the best 15 hours of sleep of my life. Then, we got up on Monday morning and drove to Yosemite National Park and camped out for a week. We paid for the entire trip with poker winnings from the four-day marathon. Sure, it was tough, but the ends justify the means.

Of course, I realize that most players do not have this luxury, and that not every person can physically push himself to the limit. There are also concerns that sleep deprivation is not healthy, and perhaps even self-destructive. But the point is, the best poker games often take place at a time that's least convenient to play. Opportunities do not always present themselves between 9 and 5. The best poker game may be a 40-mile drive across town, and you may have to make a sacrifice to get there. Winning does not come easily. It's work.

There also is a myth about playing only when you are at your best. That's complete nonsense. At certain times of the day or night, the vast majority of players are not going to be playing their best game. As long as you can stay focused and play correctly, you may be able to give up a little bit of your edge and still win – as long as your opponents have lost a more significant share of their own skills through fatigue and other factors. Sometimes, your opponents are so bad that you can simply play on "automatic pilot" (that is, in a straightforward manner) and still win money. I'm not saying you can do this in every game and win, but I am saying you don't always have to be at 100 percent.