To Show or Not to Show

In one of my many other lives (novelist, creative consultant, public speaker, reformed mime), I’m a teacher of writers, and one of the most important things I teach them is to question hidden assumptions. These assumptions — untested givens like, “My writing sucks,” and, “They won’t like me” — are the scourge of a writer’s existence. Untested assumptions can wreak havoc on a poker player, as well, especially those assumptions that start out as insights into what is or is not correct poker play, but eventually harden into habit, or even downright taboos. I have recently discovered one such taboo in my own play, and have been working hard to crack it out of its concrete case. The taboo? Showing cards to online foes. It used to be my policy never, ever to reveal my cards after showdown. Lately, I’ve been wondering if that policy is useful, and I’ve been putting my assumptions to the test.

The argument against showing cards is a simple one, and seemingly valid: You risk giving too much away. Why should anyone ever get free information from you about anything? And I suppose that if you’re a beginning player or a naïve one (which is where we all start out, and maybe where this taboo gets cemented in the first place), it’s a wise dictum. You may think you’re being crafty in showing a successful bluff, for example, but how can you be sure that superior foes aren’t going to figure out a way to use that information against you? You can’t, which is why you shouldn’t show cards to superior foes — and when you start out in the game, that’s just about everybody.

But what about later on, when you’ve grown in sophistication and acquired, among other things, a good sense of how others perceive you, and how that perception might be manipulated and changed? In other words, what about when all of your foes are not, in fact, superior to you? What about when they’re worse, maybe much worse? Mightn’t this be the time to start having some adventures in showing your hands? Maybe … but still the taboo exists: Don’t give away free information, ever. Well, you know what? There is a time to give away free information, and that’s when it’s information that you want them to have. Then, it’s not information, it’s misinformation, and that’s a whole other kettle of fish. Suddenly, showing cards is not self-indulgence or mean spirit of the neener-neener-neener sort. Instead, it’s a tool — and tools are good. Man uses tools; if we didn’t, we’d still be living in trees, wondering where our next banana was coming from.

Here’s how I go about using this tool of misinformation: First, I uncheck the Never Show Cards option on my Internet-poker interface, so that I at least have the option of revealing what I hold. Next, I take the temperature of the table. If I feel that I’m in a challenging game against a bunch of good players, I’m not likely to show my cards, for I don’t trust that they won’t be able to use that information against me. (Of course, if I’m in that tough a game, I’m probably already looking for a softer one, or even already gone.) If the game is of the right type, though — populated by weak-minded, easily manipulated foes — I’ll look for an opportunity to blow my own cover. I’ll start by showing a couple of kosher hands: strong holdings that I bet strongly and that hold up. This creates the impression that I play only quality cards — or at least that that’s the impression I’m trying to convey. They won’t buy it, of course, for they aren’t total idiots. Then, I look for an opportunity to run a naked bluff, and after they all fold, I show that hand, too. This is where I run up against the taboo, for many people (myself included) think it’s generally wrong to show the fish that they’ve been fished. But I have found that showing bluffs in tandem with showing strong hands can have a very unsettling effect on the table. They don’t know if I’m strong-playing-weak, weak-playing-strong, or, indeed, the last float on the clueless parade, with no real idea of how I’m playing at all.

Psychologically, this can be very potent. Some players get furious when you start to show hands. They consider it a nonverbal version of smack talk, and in a sense it is, for you’re telling your foes, “Hey, I can show you my hands and still beat you.” It tells your foes that you consider them inferior. Viewed through a certain filter, this can be rather insulting; it can put people on tilt — which is one reason that we do it, of course. And there are several others.

Here’s one: When we show cards, we get everyone thinking about us and our game, rather than thinking productively about their own.

Here’s another: When we show cards, we might get to see some in return, from opponents who are less adept at harmonizing the cards they show with the way they play. In other words, we might end up trading destabilizing misinformation for profitable real data.

Here’s yet another: When we show cards, we create a maniac image, and that’s often a good image to have.

Finally, there’s this: When we show cards, we embolden ourselves to run naked bluffs, a necessary part of successful poker. If it’s part of our game plan to run a bluff and then show it, we start looking for opportunities to drive 9-5 as if it were A-A. This makes us stronger, fiercer, bolder, more dangerous players.

So, the next time you’re playing online, why not try adding this trick to your repertoire? Here are two tips to start you on your way: First, show only winners. Never show the hands that you’ve folded or the good laydowns that you make. Showing such hands gives only a picture of how you react, and that’s not information that you want to make clear. By showing your winners, you create a picture — a distorted and conflicting one — of how you act. That’s a big difference. Huge.

Second tip: Start small. Showing cards and then making adjustments according to the cards you’ve shown is a skill that takes some learning. Also, don’t try it out in the biggest games that you play. Try it in the smallest. You’ll be more fearless because you have less to lose, and your foes will probably be weaker ones, too. And, of course and always, “Don’t challenge strong players, challenge weak ones; that’s what they’re there for.”

Go show. It could show some profit for you.

John Vorhaus is the author of the Killer Poker book series and the poker novel Under the Gun. He resides in cyberspace at radarenterprizes.com. Photo: Gerard Brewer.