A while back I read a newspaper article that derided the increasing use of "doublespeak" in Washington. Doublespeak refers to words and phrases designed either to sooth sensibilities or conceal as much as they reveal. One example is a government report that described hunger in America as "food insecurity." Propaganda has now become "a struggle for hearts and minds." Problems with agencies are turned into "challenges." Doublespeak crosses political party lines. Instead of lobbying for repeal of the "estate tax," which would appear to give rich folks a tax break, Republicans call for an end to the "death tax," while Democrats, on the other hand, talk about "choice" to avoid employing the more sensitive word "abortion." Of course, Washington has no monopoly on fuzzy euphemisms, the article noted, citing some communities that post "No Outlet" signs to replace the somewhat
morbid-sounding "Dead End" warnings.
Doublespeak, the article noted, derives from the terms "doublethink" and "newspeak" from George Orwell's classic and frightening novel,
1984, which foreshadowed things to come.
Well, I'm not sure that doublespeak is all that bad, at least as far as poker goes. This profession, I believe, is burdened by more than its share of unnecessarily blunt and offensive terms that jar people who are as sensitive as I am. Therefore, I'd like to suggest a few alternate doublespeak replacement phrases that fall more trippingly off the tongue and land more soothingly on the ear.
Before beginning, I would like to dedicate this column to my colleague and friend Michael Wiesenberg, who is the pundit of poker parlance. I hope he approves and might even consider incorporating some of these usages in his next poker dictionary. (While we're at it, Michael, I feel somewhat regretful at continually referring to your dear Aunt Sophie as a
yenta in my columns. Do you have a kinder, gentler doublespeak term I might use? No? OK.)
Very well then, let's start this doublespeak column by examining the most dreaded term in poker: "bad beat." Say to someone, "Let me tell you about my bad beat," and you'll be greeted with moans and groans. But think how much more interest you will generate if you offer to describe a "mathematically unbelievable setback."
Do you get my drift?
OK. Now let's take another term, "drawing dead," which is as spooky-sounding as dead end. Doesn't "unfeasible improvement" mean the same thing but ring a little nicer and more positive?
For that matter, "dead" is used entirely too often to suit my taste in poker parlance. Take the phrase "dead money" to describe a live one. Apart from being a contradiction of terms, dead money is a very insulting way to describe a welcome opponent. Something like "dependable contributor" is far cheerier and more positive. And while we're at it, let's scrap "card dead," as well. Doesn't "suboptimal" sound better?
To continue, "maniac" is the currently accepted term for a player who raises wildly and unceasingly. That word frightens me. It conjures up images of a crazed and homicidal lunatic running around waving a dagger. How about "rationally challenged" or "unsupportively aggressive"?
Now, let's look at the other end of the spectrum and examine the term commonly used to describe an extremely
tight player: "rock." That word brings to mind a faceless, immovable obstacle, which I believe is often unfairly applied to a player who is merely conservatively selective and - to look at it positively - predictable. Instead of rock, my suggestion would be "financially prudent."
"Angle-shooter" is a thoroughly contemptuous term inflicted on those players who we believe are taking unfair advantage of situational occurrences. Well, that's poker, isn't it? Why not give these players the benefit of the doubt and refer to them as "alertly opportunistic"?
In much the same manner, calling someone a "slow-roller" simply because he delays turning over a winning hand long after you have shown yours might be an unfair label. This player might simply be attempting to avoid acting too hastily, so perhaps "deliberately contemplative" might be a more appropriate appellation.
Are you starting to see how much more civilized this game would be with a more judicious application of terms?
To take this discourse further, "suckout" is a term that has always appalled me on two counts. First, it is an extremely crude and coarse expression. Second, it is a scornful term for a player who has overcome a difficult obstacle by improving his hand enough to beat a superior one. How unfair! Even if it was your hand that was overtaken, shouldn't your opponent be applauded for his courage and daring in attempting a daunting and perhaps mathematically unrealistic pursuit? Therefore, I suggest that we refer to such a valiant feat not as a suckout, but as a "Don Quixote," in tribute to that idealistic tilter of windmills in Miguel de Cervantes' classic novel.
"Four-flusher" is a particularly nasty term of opprobrium that has found its way from poker into general language. While it originally described someone who tried to pass off four suited cards as a flush, it now refers to an especially devious individual. It is quite possible that a player announcing a flush when he held four hearts and a diamond had merely misread his suits. I therefore suggest that it would be more graciously forgiving and perhaps more technically correct to call him "unsuited" rather than a four-flusher.
Another term that bothers me is "knocked out," as in, "I just got knocked out of the tournament." It is a brutal expression, conjuring up images of a boxer being beaten into unconsciousness. Wouldn't it be far more refined to say that you had "disengaged yourself from the competition"?
There are countless other unfairly harsh phrases that come to mind. Just because someone blows his paycheck on poker each week, don't call him an "addict" when "enthusiast" or "risk-taker" would serve just as well.
And, finally, let's look at possibly the most derogatory word in poker, which is "railbird." I myself was guilty of using that pejorative term some years back when I wrote a beloved column titled, "A Field Guide to Railbirds," and now I would like to make amends. The term, of course, refers to a sidelined player who is attempting to be staked. What's wrong with that? All he's doing is offering people an investment and a chance to make a big score off his play. He deserves a more dignified designation, and since the railbird … I mean, player … is invariably broke, let's call him a "gaming investment broker."
Can you top that, Michael?
