Playoff Performer/Tournament Player?

Throughout 18 NHL seasons and with three Stanley Cup rings with three different teams, Claude Lemieux has been known to be what is called a "clutch playoff performer." In 1995, Lemieux even won the Conn Smythe trophy - an award given to the most outstanding player during the playoffs.

Throughout his career, though, he never put up great numbers during the regular season, yet when the playoffs came around, something magical always seemed to happen. Lemieux, never considered to be a prolific goal scorer, scored 19 game-winning goals in the playoffs alone. Was this a phenomenon, or was there a psychological reason for all of this? More importantly, why am I discussing hockey statistics in a poker magazine?

Hopefully, I'll be able to answer both of those questions for you. Let's tackle the first one: Was it just a coincidence that Lemieux seemed sluggish and slow during the grueling regular season, and then miraculously came out of his shell just in time for the playoffs? Was it random luck? Of course not.

Lemieux thrived on "the moment" - he lived for the pressure of "do-or-die" situations. He was at his best when his back was against the wall and it was time to turn on the juice and give it that something extra.

So why, then, was Lemieux never able to duplicate that same intensity throughout the regular season? Was he conserving energy for what he believed was more important - the Stanley Cup playoffs? Or, was he just not mentally capable of maintaining that high level of intensity throughout the grueling 80-game NHL season? I think it was a combination of the two.

Back to poker, I'm assuming you may be on to where I'm going with this. How many of us are really capable of focusing on each and every minute detail that will help us at the poker table, day in and day out, without going insane? Our goal at the table is supposed to be: Play each and every hand as optimally as possible given the situation. To accomplish that goal, we need to be focused on our opponents' betting patterns, their emotional states, as well as their perceptions of us, pot odds, tells, our emotional state, implied odds, past hands we've played against these opponents, our opponents' skill levels, and so on - at all times!

Good luck. It's a nice goal to set, but I've yet to see a poker player in the world who's capable of that kind of commitment. So, until either Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods takes up poker, it should be safe to say that everybody, at one time or another, doesn't have the mental strength to play his "A" game.

Claude Lemieux could do it only when the stakes were high, and he had everything to lose - or win, in his case. Now, I may be going way out on a limb here, but I honestly believe there is a similar quality that separates the great "tournament players" from the great side-game players. Huh? OK, let me explain.

There is a myth - which is actually true in a number of cases - that professional tournament players can't beat the side games. Many of the players in the side games marvel when those same tournament players continue to win tournaments. I remember hearing this joke/comment in an $80-$160 hold'em game one day: "Game selection? You know how I decide how good a game is? I count the number of World Series of Poker bracelets at my table. The higher the number, the better the game. Oh, baby, this game looks like a seven, deal me in!" That was a direct quote from a tourist who was actually an excellent limit hold'em player.

So, why would a "great" tournament player be able to win tournaments yet seem outclassed quite often in the side games? There are several reasons: First, tournaments and side games are completely different animals. In side games, the presence of large discrepancies in stack sizes, as well as time pressure, is nonexistent. All you're left with are the fundamentals.

Second, a player's tilt factor plays a much larger role in how he fares in side games than it does in tournaments. In a tournament, you are protected from tilt by the fact that you can't keep reaching into your pocket until all of your money is gone. If you go on tilt in a tournament, you lose your buy-in, and then get to blow off some steam away from the table.

Third - and this is the one I'd like to focus on - some great tournament players aren't at their best unless their backs are against the wall, unless the added stresses of time pressure and survival are present. Some players actually thrive under the pressure of do-or-die situations, just like Claude Lemieux in the Stanley Cup playoffs.

Their focus is enhanced, and they raise their level of intensity to what is known as "the zone." Yet, when faced with the prospect of sitting in a live game, many of these tournament players either don't have the fundamental knowledge necessary to succeed, or they allow their level of intensity to drop to a point where they are no longer taking the game as seriously as they probably should. Many of them might not realize that to succeed when playing live, they still need to play their "A" game! Just because there is no clock, or because they have unlimited rebuys, doesn't mean they can get away with playing their "C" game.

However, there is a lot to be said for, and a lot of credit is due, those tournament players who thrive under pressure. It is a unique talent that a select few people possess. A different type of emotional stability is necessary to thrive in tournament poker. It's what lots of people like to call "heart."

Conversely, many of those side-game players who take pride in beating up on the tournament players who suffer in the side games could never duplicate those tournament players' results in their arena (tournaments). They could never measure up to a tournament player's "A" game when it's all on the line, despite the fact that they get the best of him on their turf (side games).

Ideally, you want to be a player who learns to thrive in both arenas and respects their intricate differences. You want to be not just a "side game" player or a "tournament player," but a "poker player," a rather lofty title.

If you aren't too stubborn and are willing or want to become a "poker player," there are constructive ways to go about it. If you've never played tournament poker before but do well in side games, there is an easy answer for you - buy Sklansky's new book Tournament Poker. From it, you'll get a better understanding of why you should play drastically different in tournaments. Then, apply some of that knowledge in some weekly tournaments. Get some hands-on experience.

If you are a tournament player who wants to learn how to beat the side games, the answer is not quite that simple, unfortunately. The best way to go is to start all over. Forget about all of the potential bad habits you've picked up from tournament poker, and learn or relearn the basic fundamentals of the game. There are plenty of good books out there that may help you. Check your ego at the door and start small. Once you've put in some hours and proven to yourself that you are capable of beating the game, then, and only then, should you consider moving up in limits.

Personally, I take great pride in being able to succeed in both tournaments and side games in my eternal quest to become a complete poker player. If that's not important to you at all, not much of what I've said would interest you. If you are happy doing what you are doing, that's clearly your prerogative. I would simply hope that you might learn to respect the abilities of those who do what you can't, rather than carry a negative, jealous attitude toward them because of their shortcomings - be it live games or tournaments.

Live games are to tournaments what the regular season is to the playoffs.

The only difference is, you have to qualify for the playoffs by succeeding in the regular season. Actually, now that I think about it, that doesn't sound all that different after all.

To learn more about Daniel's recent trials and tribulations, go to www.fullcontactpoker.com to read his weekly diary, as well as past columns that you may have missed.