Calling the Game - Part II

Last time, we looked at the general significance of calling the game. This time, I'd like to focus on stud in particular, for stud poker differs from flop poker in two essential respects that make calling the game especially important. First, the starting point of the action is not constant in stud; it often changes from round to round. In flop games, the action always begins to the left of the button, whose position remains fixed through the duration of each hand, but in stud, the action begins with the highest (showing) hand. Since every round of cards offers the prospect of a change in that department, it is not uncommon for the action to start in three or even four different positions during the play of one hand. A player who acts first on fifth street may act last on sixth, which makes the positional aspect of stud quite different from hold'em or Omaha.

The second difference is that in flop games, there are only five upcards, and they're never taken out of play – so there is never a time when they become unavailable for visual reference. But in an eighthanded stud game, as many as 32 cards can appear faceup. Now, it's not often that you'll actually see 32, but that's because players are folding their respective hands on various streets, the result being that not only are dozens of cards appearing during the course of play, but many of them are disappearing, as well. With so much information disappearing, the challenge of the game lies in processing that information – and retaining it. "Out of sight, out of mind" can be fatal in stud poker.

Why do these two differences make calling the game in stud so important ?

Well, right now I'm looking at a manual of dealing procedures. While it's true that some procedures vary from cardroom to cardroom, others are quite standard, such as the following: "On third street, always call the low card by rank and suit. On succeeding streets, announce the high hand. Do not indicate the beginning of action with only a hand gesture." Whoever originally authored this procedure, especially that last sentence (and you can find similar wording in countless dealing manuals), understood something very important that, sadly, is lost on many dealers today, and it's this: The dealer's job is not merely to inform the player with the high hand that he is first to act. His job is to let everyone know – and to let everyone know at the same time. A crisp oral announcement accomplishes this; a physical gesture alone often doesn't. After all, there's no reason to assume that all of the players will even see the dealer's gesture, since there's likewise no reason to assume they'll all be looking in the direction of that player at that particular moment. Stud players have a lot to look at, and a lot to look for, and that job becomes very difficult when they literally don't know where to begin.

When dealing stud, it's important to remember that as the cards on any given round are dealt, the players are confronted with information that immediately requires them to pursue related information. For example, let's say that I have a pair of queens on fourth street. Now, here comes fifth street, and one of the last cards to fall is a king. Instantly, I am confronted with several tasks. I need to look at all of the other hands to determine how live this new potential threat is; that is, are there other kings out there? Also, if I didn't make two pair on fifth street, how live are my other three cards? And the player with the king – how live are his other cards? Another extremely important consideration is whether he's going to be acting before me or after me. Meanwhile, another player has just picked up his third diamond. Uh-oh – is that what he was after? Obviously, the answer to that question, or at least a clue, lies in how live the other diamonds are, so I need to do a quick count. Tracking all of these things can be difficult (and this is only a small sample), for the action is going to begin almost immediately after the last card is dealt.

But although it's difficult, it is possible; the key is to glean some information in the second or two before the action begins, and then to continue gathering data on the fly by keeping your eyes at least one hand ahead of the action as it proceeds clockwise. But what makes this task impossible is when players begin folding before your eyes can get to their cards – and that is exactly what happens when the dealer fails to announce the high hand promptly. The action begins without you, so to speak, and you suddenly find yourself one step behind the action – looking to your left as a player to your right is folding information that could be critical, then looking to your right and asking what he folded while yet another player folds – and you're perpetually playing catchup. Ironically, in those situations in which the information you missed wouldn't have been relevant to your hand anyway, it now becomes relevant – if only because of the uncertainty that is now injected into your decisions.

A dealer acquaintance of mine once put it best, and it's no coincidence that he was a fine stud player himself, and therefore had a keen understanding of what players need. He said: "A stud player's eyes should be free to focus on the cards from a strategic point of view, rather than having to search this way and that for the starting point of the action; therefore, the dealer should deliver that information to his ears." I should add, by the way, that there's certainly nothing wrong with complementing the vocalized announcement with a hand gesture – in fact, I think it's a good idea – but the gesture by itself just doesn't do the job. It's simply too easy for some players to miss it while looking elsewhere, or when their eyes are cast downward looking at their holecards. Likewise, it's not enough just to say, "Bob," when Bob has the high hand. After all, while you may know that Bob is the player in seat No. 5, does everyone at the table know who Bob is ?

The same principle applies to announcing pairs. Recently I asked a dealer why he never announced my pairs, and he told me that he thought it would be an insult to my experience – he didn't want to offend me by implying that I couldn't see the pair for myself. But again, such a conclusion is based on the faulty premise that announcements are made for the benefit of the holder of a particular card or hand, when in fact they are made for the benefit of the table at large.

By the way, I'm certainly not oblivious to the fact that the repetitive nature of dealing, when combined with human nature, makes it inevitable that dealers will shift into cruise control at times. I understand this, and frankly, it's perfectly natural. But that is precisely why the best habits should become ingrained in a dealer's routine. As I used to say when I was training dealers: If you're going to put procedure on automatic, it's best to do it with the right ones, like calling the game. Believe me, the players will appreciate it.