'E.V.,' Phone Home!

Many of the advanced poker books I've read do a wonderful job of teaching poker like a science designed to do one thing: extract money from one's opponents. The authors seem to believe that any energy one exerts on other matters is a waste of time, and distracts the player from The Poker Lord of Creation, "E.V." ("expected value"; that is, the amount of money one rates to make in a given game over the long term, oftentimes expressed as an E.V. for a particular play, sometimes expressed as an E.V. of big bets per hour).

While I certainly wouldn't argue that analyzing poker in this fashion is wrong – and indeed would argue that analyzing it this way does eliminate a lot of sloppy, lazy thinking – I believe it falls far short of presenting the complete picture, and can make otherwise happy people feel guilty or even stupid for gaining enjoyment from other aspects of the game.

If you're a full-time professional whose efforts determine if and when your family eats, or whether or not your kids can go to college, I suppose if you want to feel guilty whenever you wander away from E.V., you're not acting inappropriately.

I believe, though, that in this short trip we get around the planet, we should try to extract the maximum from our time here, and much of the time that means focusing on people, not on money. Even if you don't buy that, accept the reality that you had better find something to enjoy in poker beyond your winnings, because by the time you've given the house its well-earned rake (and I do mean well-earned; if you've ever tried to run a serious home poker game, you know just how much work is involved), and given the real superstars a chance to suck their inevitable winnings out of the game, you are going to come out behind, financially. It's just an inescapable mathematical necessity (there, that phrase should please the E.V. people!).

I'm not suggesting you swing all the way around to the opposite point of view and figure that you must view poker as a way of paying for entertainment, as I believe realistic craps, slots, and basic-strategy blackjack players should do. It's possible to make money in the long term at poker, and there's nothing wrong with trying to do so, and trying hard. You might make it, and even if you don't, you can wind up losing far more slowly than the folks who find themselves hypnotized by Let It Ride.

There is a middle ground, though, and to me, the most important part of that middle ground is the people we meet through poker. Many friendships spring from the game, and that's quite natural: Familiarity tends to breed either contempt or attraction, and when you encounter someone who possesses a commonality of interests and talents, it's only natural that friendships are going to emerge.

Lately, I've had some encounters that have driven this point home more than usual. I met actor/director James Woods on the MS Ryndam during the PartyPoker.com Million III, and he had some interesting things to say. Woods has always been one of my favorite actors, and it turns out that those bright, fast-talking characters he plays aren't such a reach: He's an M.I.T. grad and is certainly high energy. (I'm not saying that means he's no actor: That part comes in when the bright, high-energy guy starts playing someone so edgy, he'd physically assault a best friend just for casually calling him crazy.)

I was number something-or-another in a line of journalists who each had a few minutes to interview Woods, and I wanted to know more about the obvious: Certainly his acting skills helped his poker, I felt sure, but how much?

"That helps some, sure," Woods said. "I mean, lots of times opposing players assume an actor is going to be an idiot, and if I add some white noise in by carrying on three different conversations at once and not going into a rigid freeze, I can get people to attack and take advantage of that. But, actually, it's the directing I do that helps me more. When I'm sitting in that chair, I'm trying to decide, 'Am I buying what this guy is selling? Do I believe the emotion he's trying to give his character?' Studying people that way – studying good actors and seeing if I can read them – helps more than any acting I might do."

Woods proved to be an affable, easily approachable person for any of the fans who approached him on the ship, and I think seeing a real celebrity treat "the common man" this way is a nice lesson for "poker celebrities." Although many of poker's greats are gracious, too many of them are cliquish "If you're not a fellow poker superstar, I don't really have time for you; you understand, guy?" sorts of folks.

It turned out, though, that Woods thought his conduct was par for the course. "One of the things I love about this game," he said (he's taken a headfirst dive into the game over the last seven months), "is the people I meet. There are so many quality people in the poker world, genuinely kind, interesting, generous, funny people; it's one of the nicest communities of folks I've ever run into."

While Woods is probably getting treated a bit more kindly than the average player, just because of his own celebrity and the way he doesn't ram it down your throat, I had to stop and pause to consider his words, because after all, this is a fellow who sits in that director's chair and decides if he's buying what the actors are selling. I have to believe he has a better ability to read who's genuine and who isn't than I do. That's most of his profession, and only a part of mine.

While poker certainly has its ne'er-do-wells and people of questionable integrity, you find those in every group, and there's no reason to define a group by its least common (or pleasant) denominator. My experience is that I find more people at both ends of the spectrum than I do in the general population: a higher percentage of truly kind, interesting, bright, moral, funny, fascinating people, and a higher percentage of people I don't even like spending time with while they're handing me their money quickly.

The great thing about that experience is that to a small extent, I can control which sort I hang out with while playing, and to a quite large extent, I can control which sort I hang out with while not playing. People are what make this world go around, and the interactive nature of our game gives us a chance to enjoy many of them. Although it's sometimes difficult to turn it on and off – to go from trying to rip someone's guts out at the table to sharing an important feeling or piece of news away from it – it's not impossible, and we really can choose to talk about matters beyond bad-beat stories, if we want to.

"Your money or your life," the archetypical robber demands as he points the pistol at you. Well, I think we have a chance to obtain the same, but not as an either/or demand, but as a possible win and possible chance to share. Lots of players talk about new or weak players being poker's "natural resources," because of the money they lose. I believe poker's natural resources are the folks who can give us a run for our money, and who can share the most valuable thing they own: themselves.

Andrew N.S. Glazer, "The Poker Pundit," is Card Player's tournament editor, and he writes a weekly gambling column for The Detroit Free Press. He is the author of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Poker (Alpha Books, September 2004), Casino Gambling the Smart Way (Career Press, 1999), and Tournament Poker With the Champions (Huntington Press, spring 2005). He is a consultant to www.PartyPoker.com, and welcomes your questions.