Are You a Victim of TMI?

When you play poker against strangers, are you confident you'll prevail? Do you believe their lack of knowledge about you and your game outweighs your lack of knowledge about them and the way they play?

Conversely, are you sometimes hesitant and wavering when playing against someone with whom you've competed many times and have had considerable trouble? Are you thinking about the various ways you've played certain hands in certain situations against this particular opponent, and how all of that relates to the play you are now about to make against him?

Have you learned so many sophisticated plays that you sometimes forget how to make a fundamental play? Are you burdened by so many intricacies of the game that you forget to make the straightforward play?

You could be a victim of TMI – Too Much Information.

In 1995, I finished fourth and sixth respectively in the final two events of the World Series of Poker ($2,500 no-limit hold'em and $10,000 no-limit hold'em). I did this while knowing nothing about no-limit hold'em and nothing about how my opponents played no-limit hold'em. I did, however, have a decent amount of courage, albeit "blind" courage. And my momentum that year produced more and more courage, until eventually I became a fairly powerful presence at any table.

Four years later in the 1999 World Series final event, when the tournament was down to 12 tables, I was eliminated with a hand that I would have won in 1995! With the blinds at $300-$600, an under-the-gun $2,000 bet was made by a man with whom I had played a great deal of side-action pot-limit hold'em, and whose play I very much respected. Everyone folded to me. I was on the button with $22,000 in chips and was holding pocket eights. I thought this hand could be played in four different ways: call, make a pot-sized raise, move in, or throw the hand away. I called, and the flop came 9-7-6 with two diamonds. My opponent checked, and I moved in. My opponent called with the A 7 and made a flush on the river. In 1995, I had an uncomplicated move-in mentality. I wouldn't have had any side-game history with my opponent, and I wouldn't have been concerned about which of the four plays to make. I simply would have moved in my $22,000, and he would have thrown his hand away. It's pretty clear that in this particular case, anyway, I was a victim of TMI.

Nearly all poker in Europe is pot-limit. My most successful European trip by far was one that I took to Paris. If I tell you the reason why, you'll think I'm a nut case. But, I'll tell you anyway.

When I was in London, the pound was worth $2, so when I bet £100, I knew instantly that I was betting $200. In Amsterdam, the exchange rate was two guilders to the dollar, so when I bet 100 guilders, I knew that I was betting $50. In Vienna, the dollar was worth 10 Austrian schillings, so I knew that when I bet 1,000 schillings, I was betting $100. But in Paris, the exchange rate was six and a half francs to the dollar. I never got a clear picture in my mind of how much a 100 franc chip, a 1,000 franc chip, or a 10,000 franc plaque was really worth.

When I arrived at the Aviation Club de France, I gave the cage person some dollars and received some chips. I started winning immediately, and within an hour I was in the most relaxed mood I had ever experienced while playing pot-limit poker. At first, I couldn't figure out why I was so at peace and how I could play so powerfully without any strain. Then, all of a sudden, it hit me. The reason I was so calm was that, although I knew I was winning, I didn't have a clue regarding how much I was winning or how much I was betting. It wasn't like playing in Las Vegas, where if I were, say, $1,000 ahead, my subconscious would start nagging me with all sorts of management thoughts, such as, "Pay attention now, stupid, you gotta make sure you get $700 out of this."

Not wanting to destroy my peaceful mood, I didn't count my chips or cash them in. I took them to my hotel room each night and brought them back to the game the next day. I made a conscious effort to avoid dwelling on the amount of chips I was accumulating. By about the fifth day, I was playing with tremendous confidence, making all the right moves, making successful bluffs with huge bets, and even making a few correct long calls, not bothering to think about how much money was involved. I not only didn't know who my opponents were, I didn't even know how much I was playing for. One of my finest hours came at the end of the 10-day trip when my wife and I went all over Paris searching for the best exchange rate to switch our newly acquired francs into dollars.

So, what's the point of this article? Well, I wrote this one for my benefit. You see, if you've read all the way to here, and you and I end up at the same table in an upcoming tournament, this article should help me, because, as of now, you too have become a victim of TMI!