Arrogance, the Biggest Bankroll Buster

A great poker paradox is that excellent players are often broke. Stu Ungar was the most famous example: He was an "immortal," but he often needed backers, and he died broke. Other fine players frequently need backers, and arrogance is almost always a major cause of their problems.

The Meaning of 'Arrogance'

It is "a genuine or assumed feeling of superiority that shows itself … in excessive claims of position, dignity, or power, or that unduly exalts one's own worth or importance: overbearing pride." That pride can be so great that it creates denial about essential realities such as one's abilities and limitations.

How Can Great Players Be So Stupid?

The absolute essence of winning poker is to wait until you have the edge, then exploit it. Some great players apply that principle brilliantly at the poker table, then ignore it by playing unbeatable games. They ship money from the poker room to the craps, roulette, and pai gow poker tables.

They want faster action than they can get playing poker, and they arrogantly ignore the laws of probability. They may never admit it, even to themselves, but in their secret hearts they believe: "Those games may be unbeatable for ordinary people, but not for me. I'm so superior that the laws of probability and lots of other rules don't apply to me."

Arrogance also causes some outstanding tournament players to be "live ones" in cash games. They beat tournaments, but lose heavily because they don't play well for cash. In fact, when some of them make the final table, their side-game opponents cheer them on. If they have a big tournament payday, their opponents will get a nice piece of it.

Their arrogance prevents them from learning from their past losses. They delude themselves that this time will be different, that their true superiority will allow them to beat games that have repeatedly defeated them.

How Do These Stories Relate to You?

You may think these stories are irrelevant. You don't need backers, or play craps or pai gow poker, nor are you a tournament champion who can't beat cash games. In fact, you're a steady winner, and your bankroll has grown nicely for months or years. Yet, arrogance may still be a problem. For example, you may play above your skill and bankroll levels or plan to become a full-time professional.

Playing above your skill and bankroll levels is extremely common. You, I, and most other people want to believe that we are much better players than we really are. This arrogance can make us play against superior players or for stakes we can't afford.

In fact, these two mistakes often go together because larger games normally have tougher players. If we overestimate our skill, we almost automatically underestimate our bankroll requirements. The bankroll needed depends upon win rate and variance (standard deviation). If we move to a bigger and tougher game, the win rate (in bets per hour) will usually go down and the standard deviation will go up (in both bets and dollars per hour). We therefore need a much bigger bankroll.

Unfortunately, arrogance may cause us to ignore this reality. It applies to other people, but not to us. If we win one bet per hour and have a standard deviation of X bets per hour at, say, $5-$10, we can easily delude ourselves that we will win one bet per hour and have a standard deviation of X bets per hour at $10-$20. We therefore believe we can beat larger, tougher games even though we don't have enough talent or bankroll.

Even if we avoid playing above our bankrolls or against superior players, arrogance can still hurt us. Perhaps our "A" game will beat this table, but we may overlook the fact that we rarely play it, and we aren't playing it now. A recent article about tennis stated that nobody ever plays "my game," the one we see in our minds.

"My game" is a composite of the best shots we ever hit. It's the service ace we blew past the club champion, that great overhead smash that beat Charlie, that wonderful backhand down the line last Tuesday, and that topspin lob that Bill couldn't reach. In fact, our normal game consists of a few good shots and lots of unforced errors.

We often think the same way about poker. We remember the great bluffs and calls, the brilliant bets for value, and the moves that won a big pot. We also remember bad beats, because they help us to delude ourselves. We forget the stupid mistakes and lucky breaks, because we want to believe that we play much better than our results would indicate.

Arrogance can also delude us about how well we are playing now, especially if we are losing. Instead of concluding that we're doing something wrong or the table is too tough for us, we blame bad luck.

Or, we ignore the fact that we're tired, or had too much to drink, or are distracted by something. Our "A" game may be good enough to beat these people, but if we're not playing it now, we're probably going to lose.

On this point I must take strong exception to the common imperative: "Always play your best game." Nobody always plays his best game at the poker table or any other place. Tiger Woods has missed short putts. Roger Clemens has been knocked out of the box in the first inning. Bill Gates has made stupid business decisions. You aren't superhuman, and it is arrogant to pretend that you can always play your best.

Becoming a full-time professional is another arrogant fantasy. Professor Hayano's Poker Faces proved that hardly anyone can make a good career of poker, and many writers, including myself, have told readers to keep their day jobs.

My poker discussion group recently considered this issue. One successful high-stakes player (with a World Series bracelet) estimated that only 2 percent of the wannabes make it, and another bracelet holder said only half of 1 percent make it. That is, the odds against succeeding were from 50-to-1 to 200-to-1.

But several readers are planning to quit their jobs and move to Las Vegas, Atlantic City, or another poker capital to become full-time pros. They have probably read equally pessimistic estimates of their chances, but arrogance makes them think they will beat the odds. Soon, most of them will go home with their tails between their legs, complaining about bad luck, short bankrolls, or anything else that will help them to deny the reality that they just aren't good enough.

What Should You Do?

First, recognize that arrogance is a ubiquitous problem. You've got it, I've got it, and so does nearly everyone else. We all want to believe we are special, and the nature of poker supports our pleasant delusions. Luck has such a huge impact on our short-term results that we can easily believe we play better than we really do. When we win, it's because of our skill. When we lose, it's because of bad luck.

Second, develop relationships with people who will puncture that bubble of arrogant delusions. You probably overestimate your own abilities. I certainly do, but my friends tell me the truth. Find someone who will do the same for you.

Third, believe what you hear. I don't like hearing my friends' criticisms, but know they are trying to help me. If I listen open-mindedly, I usually realize they're right.

Fourth, never forget that arrogance is both natural and destructive. It makes us feel good about ourselves, but we pay a high price for that short-term pleasure. We have to fight constantly against our natural arrogance to gain the greater, long-term satisfactions of beating the game.

If you would like to learn more about yourself and other players, you can order Dr. Schoonmaker's book, The Psychology of Poker. See the Two Plus Two Publishing ad on Page 115.