Why I Play Cash Games

I am very happy that High Stakes Poker on the Game Show Network has become such a huge hit, because it's the first time that the general public can see what a high-limit cash game looks like. These games are very different from the usual tournament fare that we have become accustomed to seeing on TV. Much more play, fewer all ins, players coming and going at will, and great camaraderie are all hallmarks of this show.



I have always been a cash-game player, and for the last six years, a full-time cash-game professional. I have elected to play middle-limit poker for a living and, since the poker boom, have been asked numerous times why I don't play tournaments.



There are many reasons why I prefer to play cash games, and I have listed some of them here:



• It's steady income.

• I am more of a singles hitter.

• I dislike short stacks.

• I play when I want to play.

• I sit where I want to sit.

• It's more social.

• The luck factor is lower.

• I get revenge for bad beats.

• I need a smaller bankroll.

• I don't have to play hands unless I want to play them.



It's steady income: If you are a winning player, cash-game poker presents an opportunity for a reliable, predictable cash flow. Of course, it's still gambling, with good days and bad days, and winning streaks and losing streaks, but cash play tends to average out these streaks more quickly. In 62 months of professional play, I have had eight losing months. My longest streak of losing sessions was seven. My hourly rate has never been less than a big bet per hour in my primary game ($30-$60 limit hold'em).



Tournament play has far more ups and down. In a field of 200 players, perhaps 18-21 get paid. And most of them don't get paid much (after getting their buy-in back). A very good tournament player can go weeks or even months without a significant cash. This has to be psychologically draining, as well as financially draining. I prefer to avoid this.



I am more of a singles hitter: This is related to the preceding topic. I know that I am never going to make a life-changing score in middle-limit poker. But, I am going to provide for my family in much the same steady way that I did for the 30-plus years that I brought home a salary. Perhaps this boring way of grinding out a living is not for you, but it suits my personality and style. During my entire poker career, I have won 67 percent of the times I have played. While that is not a goal in itself, it does provide a certain peace of mind in the long run.



I dislike short stacks: I enjoy sitting behind chips. I feel successful, and I look successful. I usually buy in for two racks, and if I get down to one rack, I buy more. I get a nice feeling of psychological well-being from this. In tournaments, most players are perpetually short-stacked. As soon as they get some chips, the blinds go up, and they are still within one or two hands of busting out.



I play when I want to play: For medical reasons, I can't play long sessions, and I have always been a night person. For this reason, I primarily play four to five hours, somewhere between 9 p.m. and 4 a.m. If I get to a cardroom later than planned, I can still start when I get there. This enhances the freedom I feel from simply being a professional player with no bosses to report to.



I sit where I want to sit: I like certain seats more than others, for comfort and visibility reasons. But I am willing to make changes for strategic purposes when it seems important. It may take a while, but I have the freedom to change seats or even to change games when it is to my advantage to do so. I am never stuck in a bad position for several hours, working to overcome my terrible position relative to other players or threatening stacks. I can move or quit.



It's more social: Many players come to cardrooms to pass the time in a friendly environment. It feels more like a home game to them, where they can tell jokes, talk sports, stay as long as they want, and not feel pressured. Players entering tournaments seem far more focused on the prize money, the tournament clock, the restroom breaks, and their fight for survival than on just relaxing and having fun. I like having fun, and having time to talk to other players is one of the reasons I prefer to play in live games rather than online. Yes, I'm there to win, but I'm also there to have a nice evening, and to help others have one, as well.



The luck factor is lower: Any poker game is gambling, and luck dominates short-term results. But I believe that luck dominates tournaments for a far longer time than it does cash games. A friend once said, when asked why he does not play tournaments, "It's hard enough to beat eight or nine people." I prefer to know that if I make good decisions, I will have good results much sooner and more often in cash games than in tournaments.



I get revenge for bad beats: This is not as drastic as it sounds. Just because a player gives me a bad beat or two (or more), it does not mean I am gunning for him. I am at the table to win money, and I frankly don't care whose it is. If I lose to player A and beat player B, that's OK by me. But when I do take a bad beat, or several, I am still in the game, and not walking to the rail. That means that I can continue playing with the mathematically challenged character who just put the beat on me, and I may have opportunities to play additional pots in which he willingly takes the worst of it. And that's really all I can ask for.



I need a smaller bankroll: Tournaments cost money. Yes, I understand the concept that your loss is limited to your buy-in, while your upside potential is huge. However, those buy-in losses mount up, and opportunities to make a substantial score are fairly rare. As a winning cash-game player with a good hourly rate, I can get by on a fairly small bankroll, even though I take out some money for expenses. I never need backers, and I will never be on the rail looking for one. This is important to me, because if I need a backer, I will have someone to whom I am responsible for my play. Since I play for myself with my own money, I never have to answer or explain myself to anyone.



I don't have to play hands unless I want to play them: In cash games, the blinds do not go up. If I am dealt an unending string of J-3 types of hands, I don't have to sit there and decide which one of them I'm going to have to play. I just throw them all away and wait, until the next session if need be. It may be boring, but it's also sound poker. I'm perfectly happy to wait for opportunities with positive expected value for as long as it takes, although sometimes I do try to create some. I never enjoy the tournament pressure of deciding whether to put my money in with Q-6 offsuit or wait and hope the next hand is better.



Conclusion: I understand the siren call of tournament poker: limited buy-ins, big prizes for a few, a reasonably high luck factor, playing with famous people, and perhaps even getting on TV. So, I doubt that my column will sway many of you to give up all of that to win more frequently, be more comfortable, enjoy the game in a relaxed way, come and go as you please (including to the bathroom), and know that your results are far more directly linked to your decisions.



Tournaments and cash games are very different, and require differing skills and mindsets. But if tournaments have not been treating you well, or even if they have, you might consider learning how to win in cash games, and stick with them. Perhaps you will learn to enjoy them as much as I do.



Barry offers poker lessons tailored to the specific strengths and weaknesses of the individual student. Please visit his web site at http://www.barrytanenbaum.com/ or e-mail him at [email protected].