A Delicate Balance

About a year or so ago, several poker writers in these pages weighed in on the rule that entitles any player at the table to see any other player's hand, if it's played to completion. Although each had his own ideas about how it might best be revised, there was general agreement that this rule now serves a purpose for which it was never intended. It was originally created as a deterrent to collusion, not as a means of routinely gaining information about an honest opponent's play – which is exactly what it's become. As such, it now intrudes on a certain sense of privacy traditionally associated with folding one's cards.



Some cardrooms employ a variation that states that the shown hand, although already surrendered, will remain live if the request to show it comes from the apparent winner of the pot. (Normally, the dealer would tap the cards on the muck before showing them, signifying that it's a dead hand.) After all, there's no need for the winner, of all folks, to rub the loser's face in it, so on the off chance that the player who folded has misread his cards and mucked the best hand, we'll let him have the pot anyway, thereby teaching ungracious winners a never-to-be-forgotten lesson about sportsmanship and the Golden Rule. The thinking here is that if you want to cut down on players requesting to see their opponents' cards, you need to create a disincentive for such requests.



Unfortunately, this isn't much of a deterrent, considering that it applies, in any given hand, to only one player at the table. Or – does it? Recently I witnessed an extremely unusual situation in which it applied to two players at the same time, and since those two players have very different notions about poker courtesy, the result was a dispute that comes along once in a blue moon. In fact, I believe this was the first time I've seen such a situation arise – in 18 years of playing poker.



The game was hold'em, and at the river, the board read: A-Q-5-9-9. Three players had bet this hand vigorously along the way, so there was a fairly sizable pot. Player A held A-Q, and Player B and Player C each held A-K. Player A was the big blind, and his check-raise on the flop, and subsequent reraise after Player C popped him back, prompted Player C to remark that he wondered if Player A had flopped aces and fives. Apparently Player C remained convinced of this read, for he merely called on the turn, but when the river paired the 9, he exclaimed, "That changed everything!" He then gleefully raised Player A's lead bet. At this point, Player A simply called, and when he saw his opponents' hands, he experienced one of those short circuits of the mind that sometimes occur when one is weary from playing more than 20 hours straight. He focused on the aces up, king kicker, thinking it bested his queen – completely losing sight of the fact that his queen wasn't a kicker at all, but his second pair. Feeling no reason to show what he thought was a losing hand, he folded.



See where this is headed? There are two apparent winners in this hand, and one of them, Player B, is the kind of fellow who never in a million years would ask to see the loser's cards in this spot. For one thing, he thinks it's rude. (I happen to know this from comments he'd made in the past.) He's also mindful of the risk, and would never resurrect a dead hand that might turn out to be an overlooked winner. Player C, on the other hand, tends to be oblivious to such considerations, and his knee-jerk reflexes compelled him instantly to blurt out: "Dealer, I want to see that hand!" Unfortunately for him, the dealer obliged.



So, what should happen here?



Well, one thing is clear-cut: Given the apparent-winner rule, Player C has forfeited his share of the pot. But after that, things get a little trickier. There are three possible rulings:



1. Player A should be awarded the pot.



2. Player B should be awarded the pot.



3. Players A and B should split the pot.



So far, the majority of folks I've polled line up solidly behind No. 1, citing the fact that Player C's action revived Player A's hand to live status, and it is indeed the best hand. It may be unfortunate for Player B, but as the trial lawyers say, that bell can't be unrung. The floorman who was summoned, however, thought that other factors warranted consideration, and if your first instinct is to side with the majority, you might want to reserve your judgment 'til you hear him out.



First off, as he noted, this is a situation where one rule conflicts with another. Action is binding – that's as fundamental a rule as there is – and Player A folded his hand. No one, not even Player A, is contending that this was an accident; on the contrary, he meant to fold, and he did fold. If any other player at the table had requested to see his cards, those cards would have remained dead, consistent with the principle that each player is solely responsible for correctly reading his own hand. And while it's true that the apparent-winner rule creates an exception, it's also true that the only purpose of this exception is to discourage winners from taunting losers by asking to see their cards. That being the case, it should be considered inapplicable here, for Player B never did any such thing. He never committed the act that triggers the penalty of forfeiting the pot; someone else did that. The floor's discretionary power is based on the principle of fairness, and in our society, it is considered patently unfair for one adult to be held responsible for the act of another.



Obviously, if you find this argument compelling, you'll now be voting for ruling No. 2. And after hearing the floorman make these points, I assumed that's the ruling he would make. But he wasn't quite finished.



He went on to point out that just as Player B shouldn't be penalized for the actions of Player C, neither should he be over-rewarded for them. While it would be unfair to take away Player B's pot because of Player C's request, let's not forget that had Player C remained quiet, Player B would've been entitled to only half this pot. Therefore, the apparent-winner exception is still in play to the extent of reviving Player A's hand, but the forfeiture aspect of the rule, while binding on Player C, is inapplicable to Player B. So, the pot will be split between Player A and Player B.



Was this a perfect ruling? Perhaps not – but then, I don't think a perfect ruling was possible. It was, however, eminently reasonable, and I was quite impressed with the way this floorman considered a number of factors, weighed them against each other, and explained his decision in articulate fashion. (Contrast this approach with what one sees all too often: A floorman, in far less difficult circumstances, sidesteps the responsibility of rendering a reasoned decision by "suggesting" to two players that they split a pot, thereby passing the buck and applying pressure at the same time.)



Anyway, what do you think?



Brian Mulholland can be e-mailed at [email protected].