Remember the 'Play,' Not the 'Time'

Have you ever made the wrong play at the right time and won? Ever made the right play at the wrong time and lost? Sure you have. What I want to know is: What did you do the next time?

In the movie Swingers, Mike and Trent drove from Los Angeles to Vegas and sat down at a $100-minimum blackjack table. Uncomfortable with the stakes, Mike wanted to get up, but was afraid to lose face.

He bet $100 and was dealt 11. Trent whispered, "Double down." Mike hadn't planned on wagering even $100 for his entire trip to Vegas, but to save face again, he doubled his bet and lost.

Playing at a lower-stakes table, they got into an argument about whether or not it was the right play:

Trent: I'm telling you, baby, you always double down on 11.

Mike: Well, obviously not always.

Trent: Always, baby.

Mike: I'm just saying obviously not in this particular case.

Trent: You always double down on 11.

Mike: I lost, OK! How could you say always?

Your friends invite you to Las Vegas for the weekend. Knowing that you tend to exceed your limits, your spouse lets you go, but warns, "Gamble away our money and I'll divorce you!" You leave the house broke. Once you arrive in Vegas, you hold out for all of about 20 minutes before withdrawing $500 from the ATM. In half that time, you're back to broke.

Since it's only noon, you swallow your pride, bum $20 from Tracy, and kill the day playing carnival games at Circus Circus. At the stroke of midnight, you hit the ATM up for another $500 and you're back in business. The next thing you know, it's 2 p.m. and Tracy's yelling at you about missing your flight. You count your chips and see that you have exactly $500 in front of you. Punch-drunk from being awake for the past 30 hours, it hits you that your marriage may be in trouble. You figure that there's not much difference between losing $500 and $1,000, so in a last gasp effort to save your marriage, you bet all $500.

Your first card is a king. Your next is an ace. Booya! Blackjack, baby. Just as you are counting your money, you hear the dealer ask, "Insurance?"

"Mother flower!" you exclaim, as your eyes set sight on the dealer's ace. Now's the moment of truth. If you take insurance, you will be paid $500 automatically, which not only brings you to even for the weekend, but also may save your marriage. If you don't take insurance, you will push your bet or win $750.

A mathematician, or Trent, for that matter, would tell you, "Never take insurance. It's a bad percentage bet."

A marriage counselor, or Mike, for that matter, would tell you, "Forget the percentages and take the money." Sure, over time it's a bad bet, but in this particular case, the situation warrants taking the worst of it in regard to the percentage.

With all of these thoughts running through your head, you finally take notice that the dealer is staring directly at you. "Do you want insurance, sir?" he asks, seemingly goading you to take it. "He must know there's a 3 under there," you tell yourself. You gather yourself, look the dealer in the eye, and say, "My name is Ab-dul, and I came to gam-bul. Insurance is for suckers."

"As you wish, sir," he says, as he turns over a one-eyed jack. Looks like you made the right play at the wrong time. Try explaining that to your spouse.

Fact: You can make a decision based only on the information in front of you. Going back and questioning the decision based on the outcome is ridiculous. How many times have you heard a player, after having his aces snapped, say, "I'm running so bad, I knew I shouldn't have played that hand." Yeah, right.

Poker players hate to admit a mistake, so they often paint a rosy picture (lie) to feel better about themselves. When my friend Doc misses a bet on the turn and then gets beat on the river, he'll always say, "If I had bet the turn, I just would have lost another big bet. He wasn't going anywhere anyway." Maybe, maybe not – but the outcome doesn't matter.

When Doc misses a bet when he has the best of it, he's reducing his edge. Rationalizing the one bet he saved on a particular hand is a defense mechanism that he uses to make himself feel better about his poor play. Because he doesn't take the time to critically review his play regardless of the outcome, he continues to make the same mistakes.

When Doc makes a bad decision with a positive outcome, he will go back and justify it. "If I hadn't played A-9 offsuit for a double raise, I wouldn't have won the biggest pot of the night. The guy with A-K gave me all that action when I flopped aces up. That was my even pot!"

Doc is so fixated on the immediate outcome that he refuses to admit that he made the wrong play at the right time. All he chooses to remember is the right time.

Recognize that it's part of human nature to rationalize poor decision-making. Don't call it second-guessing or Monday morning quarterbacking. Just take the time to go back and evaluate what you did based on the facts in front of you. The people who will falter again are those who don't go back and evaluate their decisions.

In poker and in business, winners don't worry about immediate outcomes. They just keep making the right play.

For five ways – plus a wild card – to make better decisions, send an E-mail to [email protected], subject heading: Getting the Best of It.