Another Look at Forgiving Yourself

My friend Barry Tanenbaum recently wrote a column called “Forgive Yourself” (Card Player, March 24, 2010). It was based on the epilogue of his excellent book Advanced Limit Hold’em Strategy.

When I read that epilogue, my first thought was, “Did Barry get religious or join some New Age, touchy-feely group?” After thinking about it, I realized that it was the right way to end his book. So, I decided to end my own book, Poker Winners Are Different, with the same point: “To improve your game, you must experiment with new ways of thinking and acting, and some of them will cause painful mistakes. If you can’t forgive yourself, you will dwell on those mistakes and become unwilling to take essential risks.”

A recent conversation convinced me that you should take this principle further. Don’t forgive yourself just for making mistakes. Forgive yourself for making good decisions that don’t turn out well. You may think that this kind of forgiveness is unnecessary, but many people bitterly criticize themselves for making such decisions.

For example, a cash-game player told me that he rarely plays tournaments, partly because he “made a bad mistake” in the only significant one that he ever tried.

“I was the chip leader, and we all were in the money. The total prize pool was about $30,000. The second-largest stack raised, and I reraised with aces. She pushed all in, and I put her on kings. My gut told me not to call. I had enough chips that I should not risk them against the only other big stack. But, I didn’t listen to my gut. I called, she flopped a king, and I was crippled.”

The critical point is that he felt that he had made a mistake, when his decision was a no-brainer. He had an 80 percent chance of busting the second-largest stack, which would have made him a big favorite to win the tournament. Since first place pays much more than second, and second pays much more than third, folding would have been a terrible mistake.

He needs to do more than forgive himself for a mistake that he didn’t make. He has to come to terms with poker’s inescapable variance. You’ve certainly read that you should focus on making the right decisions and ignore the results. You’ve probably said that you understand that principle, but have you accepted it emotionally?

I suspect that many readers have not done so, even ones who understand and intellectually accept it. Emotions are not logical, and when a +EV [positive expected value] decision doesn’t turn out well, we can feel terrible about it. For example, have you ever bitterly asked yourself any of these questions?

“Why did I play last night? It was a soft game, but I’ve been running bad, and last night’s loss really hurt.”

“Why did I three-bet Joe? I had the best hand, but he was on a rush and drew out.”

“Why did I bet the turn? I put her on a flush draw, and she always makes her flushes — at least against me.”

“Why did I make that bluff?”

Unsuccessful bluffs are especially likely to be seen as mistakes, even when they are very +EV plays. Let’s say the pot is laying you 5-1 odds, and you believe that a bluff has only a 25 percent chance of succeeding. Since that bluff is a +EV play, you should make it and not feel that you’ve made a mistake the 75 percent of the time that it fails.

There is a flip side to this feeling: You can get mad at yourself for not making a bad decision that would have turned out well. For example, a solid player raises from under the gun, which he does with only aces through jacks, A-K, and A-Q. So, you fold A-J suited. The raiser had A-K, the flop came A-J-X, and you would have won a big pot.

Or, you fold 10-9 offsuit under the gun, the flop comes Q-J-8, and you would have busted someone who flopped a set of eights. Your decisions were unquestionably correct, but they may feel like mistakes. You may even severely rebuke yourself for “playing too tight,” “being a wimp,” or “not going with my gut.”

You Must Focus on the Long Term
Intellectually, all good players accept that principle, but your emotional reactions to short-term results can overwhelm your logical mind. David Sklansky and I discuss this issue in our new book DUCY? (It stands for “Do You See Why?”) We urge readers to develop a detached, long-term perspective at both the intellectual and the emotional level. Don’t just understand that you must base your decisions on logical, mathematical analysis. Accept at the gut level that your short-term results are almost irrelevant.

If you can’t accept unpleasant short-term results, you will make bad decisions for irrational reasons. Worse yet, while you’re berating yourself for bad results, you may become distracted and make real mistakes.

Forgiving is not Forgetting
I’m certainly not suggesting that you forget, ignore, or minimize your mistakes. If you do, you’ll continue to make them. Nor should you assume that you made a mistake if a play doesn’t work out. Be balanced and objective.

If you’re unhappy about your results, take detailed notes at the table, then put the last decision out of your mind and focus on playing the cards that you’re holding. After leaving the table, discuss your notes with a poker buddy, coach, discussion group, or online forum. During these discussions, thoroughly and dispassionately analyze your thought processes. What factors did you consider? How much weight did you give to each one? Which factors did you overlook, minimize, or overemphasize?

Preparing and making a report to other people will improve your thinking. You may see your mistakes before anyone else sees them. And the more information you provide to other people, the more they can help you.

You need their feedback because you can’t be completely objective about yourself. So, listen with an open mind to their criticisms. Instead of defending your decisions, dissect them and regard other people as helpers rather than attackers.

I frequently participate in poker discussions, and far too many of them become emotional. Many people say they want feedback, but argue whenever anyone criticizes their play. Instead of trying to learn from each other, they try to win the argument. It’s silly, but very human. Everyone seems to forget that we all need to develop our ability to do the only thing that counts in poker — make good decisions.

What’s the Bottom Line?
Avoid the extremes of berating and defending your decisions. Minimize all emotions, and analyze situations as thoroughly and objectively as possible. Then, act decisively. If you don’t like your results, do another analysis, preferably with other people’s help. If you made a bad decision, learn from it. If you made a good one but had bad luck, shrug your shoulders, say, “That’s poker,” and forget it.

Dr. Schoonmaker is David Sklansky’s co-author of DUCY? He is the sole author of The Psychology of Poker, Your Worst Poker Enemy, Your Best Poker Friend, and Poker Winners Are Different.