Table Selection: Why the Second-Highest Limit Game in the Room Is Often the Best

One of the things I never understood about the late Stu Ungar was his refusal to play in ordinary poker games. Even when he was penniless and struggling to survive during the final year of his life, Ungar utterly rejected the notion of playing in anything other than the biggest game in town. Had he put his mind to it, he easily could have beaten any poker game – no matter what the stakes. But he couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a $100-$200 game when a $300-$600 game was enticing him just a few feet away. The idea of playing anything lower than that was an alien concept.

"They'd have to wrap me in a straightjacket," Ungar replied when I once asked him why he didn't take the sensible approach and hammer out a respectable hourly wage in a modest-limit game. Imagine being broke, raising a stake, and beating a $75-$150 game for one big bet an hour. That's $6,000 a week! Ungar wouldn't even consider the idea. Of course, I later came to realize that the three-time world champion didn't play poker for money. He played for other reasons – ego among them. He just couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing him in a lower-limit game. If Ungar wasn't sitting in the biggest game in the room, people might think he was broke – or so he believed.

Ungar's colossal talent excuses his egotistical attitude. But most of us don't have that luxury. Most of us can't afford to be governed by narcissism when it comes to gambling or playing poker. Anyone who enters a poker room and sits in a high-stakes game simply to impress other people is bound to end up a loser.

Over the years, I've had the good fortune of visiting many cardrooms, in all areas of the country, and even overseas. I'm up to 130 rooms now, and still counting. I've made an interesting discovery that seems to apply almost everywhere. Wherever I've gone, I've seen that the highest-limit games do not necessarily equate to the greatest potential win amount. In fact, I've made far more money (and seen more money being made by good players) playing in the second-highest game in the room. Before I begin to speculate as to the reasons why this is so, let me explain further what I mean by the "second-highest game in the room."

Aside from the megacasinos in the biggest markets, where games at all limits exist day and night, most cardrooms across America are of moderate size – perhaps eight to 10 tables. Most of these cardrooms offer low-limit poker and a couple of middle-limit games. An "average" cardroom (if there is such a thing) might consist of a couple of $1-$5 stud games, a few $3-$6 and $5-$10 hold'em games, and perhaps a $5-$10 Omaha high-low game. There's also bound to be at least one $10-$20 game, and perhaps a $15-$30 or $20-$40 game (stakes and games vary based on location). From Reno to Atlantic City, from California to Mississippi, from Washington state to Connecticut, from Arizona to Louisiana, about 70 percent of all the poker rooms where I've played spread this variety of games, or close to it.

In most of these rooms, I find that the second-highest game is usually the best game. For example, if there is both a $20-$40 game and a $10-$20 game going, I always put my name on both lists. If I'm called to the $10-$20 first, that doesn't mean I won't also look at the $20-$40, but it's not a foregone conclusion that I'll end up in the higher-limit game. Why is the second-highest limit often the better game?

(1) The highest-limit game in the room will usually (but not always) consist of the best players in the immediate area. Since many poker markets can support only a couple of middle-limit games (this is particularly true in less populated areas), the stronger players gradually bust the weaker players. Then, the strong players in the bigger games wait for weaker players to rise up through the ranks, or rely on visitors to feed their games. If new blood does not come into the games, they eventually step down one by one, and the highest-limit game is now the next lowest increment (the sure sign of a dying poker market). I can recall dozens of instances when I walked into a strange cardroom and observed pros and semipros trading antes and blinds in a shorthanded game while waiting for the "sucker" to come along – while the next limit down was a great game full of wild gamblers. Guess which game I picked?

(2) The highest-limit game in the room may have players who actually want to play higher. There is no guarantee that once you sit down, you won't be asked to raise the stakes (be sure, most everyone at the table will have already agreed – and it will be left up to you). Are you prepared? Do you want to play higher? What kind of table image does that convey to opponents if you are the lone holdout who wants to keep the same limit? If you aren't prepared to play higher, you might consider passing on this game. By the same token, if you are truly a world-class player, you should be in this game.

(3) The second-highest game in the room usually consists of players from all across the spectrum. Players who are not good enough to play higher (or lose in the bigger game – perhaps because they play poorly) will usually sit in the secondary game. Low-limit players who are "taking a shot" will tend to sit in the secondary game. Players who are desperate to recoup losses quickly will often sit in the secondary game. Again, I can recall many instances when the big game appeared to have a tough lineup, while the secondary game was a crossroads of various skills, degrees of experience, and levels of confidence.

(4) The second-highest limit game will usually be more loose-passive than the highest-limit game. The big game is almost always made up of players who are either loose-aggressive or tight-aggressive (both opponents are dangerous if you have a short bankroll). Players in the bigger games usually have enough experience to know that they won't win by playing passively. So, these games require significantly higher buy-ins (and bankrolls), in most cases. Contrast this with the secondary game that often consists of many players seeing the flop without a raise. This is the optimum game to be in – assuming that you play well after the flop and are indeed a stronger player than your opponents.

There's nothing terribly dramatic about the following story, but it typifies why a secondary game is often the better game. In Arizona earlier this year, I walked into the poker room on a Tuesday night; it was my first visit. The room was filled with low-limit games. There were also a few middle-limit games that piqued my interest – $10-$20 hold'em, $15-$30 stud, and $20-$40 hold'em. I placed my name on all three lists and was soon called for the $10-$20 game. I later saw that the $15-$30 stud game (the biggest stud game in the room) was shorthanded. The players were older than average and seemed to be passing time trading the antes. There wasn't much action. From what I could see, hands rarely continued past fifth street, and there was never more than two players in a confrontation. During a break, I went over and watched the $20-$40 hold'em game. Most of the players never entered a pot without raising. It cost $40 to see every flop. Players were bluffing and semibluffing on every street. The players also knew each other and seemed to have insights into each other's style (knowledge that I did not have). By contrast, I discovered that the $10-$20 game was a complete melting pot of talent and experience. A few of the players were visiting from out of town. Most of the players played passively and never bluffed. I overheard one player quietly confide to another player that the stakes were higher than his "normal" game. Another player kept buying in for $200 at a time, and was complaining about his losses. This was by far a better game than the other two. It wasn't even close.

I never even considered transferring to the other two games. Why should I? The $10-$20 game was rollicking, and I clearly had an advantage. Later, I got to thinking that the players in the other two games were not nearly as smart as they thought. While $10-$20 might have seemed beneath them – since they were so used to playing for higher stakes – the real money to be made was in the $10-$20 game. I see this dynamic inside many cardrooms. There's even been some discussion that this concept applies to the very high-limit games in the big cardrooms, as well. I'll let others draw their own conclusions about that.

My point is this: A winning player can make just as much playing one limit lower than his usual game – providing that the players are considerably weaker. In a recent column, for instance, I explained that you can win more money from five "bad" players in a $10-$20 game than two "bad" players in a $20-$40 game (all other players being equal). Who's the smarter poker player, the player sitting in the highest-limit game with greater bankroll fluctuation, or the player in the smaller game with a bunch of weak players who are easily manipulated?

Whether someone is a "good player" or a "bad player" is entirely relative. Is someone who's capable of beating the $20-$40 game but is losing at $40-$80 a "good player"? He might indeed be a good player (relative to all poker players), but he's also a dumb player if he's spending all of his time in the $40-$80 game. There are many "good players" who make incredibly dumb decisions inside every poker room – thank goodness.

It's true. Most players follow the Peter Principle: They rise to their greatest level of incompetence. Once we get a taste of playing in the big game, we're usually too ego-driven to step down. A player starts at the lower limits, then plays $10-$20 and wins, then moves up to $20-$40 and breaks even, and then plays $30-$60 and starts losing. Once the player has become accustomed to seeing the size of the pots in the $30-$60 game, it's hard to refocus again on the $10-$20 game with the same level of discipline and commitment. So, what happens? Many players stay in the $20-$40 and $30-$60 games and struggle for years.

It's wise to always play at a limit that will fully sustain your attention and interest – and thus make you play your best game. But as I've discovered through the years, there's often just as much money to be made in the second-highest game in the room as there is in the highest.