A Few Words On New Words

In linguistic philosophy we learn that language informs belief; manipulate language and you manipulate belief. All-knowing, all-seeing gods aren’t all-knowing, all-seeing anything to the true believers until someone labels them as such. It takes words like act now! or for a limited time only! to induce a spending frenzy among people who would otherwise not shop and not buy.

But what has that to do with poker?

Well, it turns out that language doesn’t just inform belief, it also refines focus. Call something a bird, and you know it’s a bird, but call something a saltmarsh sharp-tailed sparrow and you know what species of bird, where it’s found and a bit of what it looks like. That’s precision; refined focus. Now poker, as we know, is all about focus. The better you focus, the better you play. So then what might seem like a wildly self-indulgent exercise (willy-nilly naming things in and around your game) is actually a means of refining our focus. By naming things, and by referring to these things by name, we quickly move to a deeper level of understanding; we “know” these things better than we did before.

Suppose you describe a tight table as a “rock garden.” If this phrase is in your head, then when you see a tight game in progress and identify it by name, you suddenly have a higher awareness of that game, its strengths, weaknesses, pitfalls and possibilities. This is a shorthand, sure, and not a foolproof one, but it gives you a point of reference. By titleing the elements of the game, you know them better than you otherwise would.

Even more than understanding, there’s raw power in words – especially private words and phrases that you alone know. God gave Adam and Eve the job of naming all the plants and animals and the worms in the dirt and the fishies in the sea. Then God gave them dominion over these things. Ownership. Name a thing and you own it too.

How is this useful in poker? Hey, how is it not? You’re sitting in a no-limit hold’em game somewhere, and you notice that this new player routinely gets out ahead of his hand, betting too big, too soon, and putting himself in the jackpot. You silently assign that player a name…you call him rabbit, because that’s what they call marathon runners who jump out to early leads, only to burn out and fall back. Once you name this poker rabbit, he’s yours. You know that his bets consistently mean less than they should, and this gives you an edge you can exploit.

So here’s my startling thesis: inventing and using new poker slang will actually make you a better player. If you make it your business to name things in your game, you can’t help but focus on the game you’re in. Focus equals concentration, and concentration equals profit in poker. Plus, your hidden nicknames for other players will point you to the strategies that defeat them. That’s why I rename things every chance I get.

Some people have challenged my right to do this. “Hey Mirplo,” they say, calling me by my own slang poker name for myself, “where the hell do you get off making up new words for things? What gives you the right to reinvent language to suit your whim?” Good question. One I contemplate for many nanoseconds before dismissing altogether because, dude, we reinvent language all the time. Just think of the words and phrases we use daily that did not exist a generation ago. Cyberspace. Edutainment. Frenemy. Bromance. That list goes on and on.

Thing is, none of these words came out of nowhere. Someone, somewhere, coined each of them, uttered every last one for the first time in human history. Language is an act of creation, an act of individual creation. Everything that follows is just adoption and adaptation and convention and consensus. By the time everyone in your poker game is calling it a rock garden, it’s time for you to call it something else and move on.

I named my monthly poker group the Dead Money Society for no other reason than to remind us all about the spirit of whimsy we bring to our jousts. To my own certain knowledge, I gave the poker world the words flophead and omaholic (long, long before some of you internet whiz kids even knew what poker was – heck, even long before internet). I’ve also contributed harasshole (a bully at the poker table), perpendiculous (a player who adheres to a laughably strict ABC strategy), and gamnesia (the quality of forgetting how much you lost). Plus smokequarium, alcohologram and bellignorance. Don’t thank me, for I define myself through service. However, while it would float my boat in a major way to think that I’d somehow, somewhat shaped the language of poker, I’m not one to overestimate my impact in that world or in any world; each of us is the center of our own little universe and we’re of astoundingly little interest to the universe next door.

So take my words or leave them as you see fit. But definitely do this: Invent your own poker slang. To name a thing is to own a thing, and your own definitions for your routine poker problems, opportunities, opponents or situations will inform you more deeply about your own game than any words of mine. It’s an exciting freedom, one we don’t routinely get from teachers or parents or peers. But now you’re getting it from me. You have my permission to invent new words. All you want, for any situation whatsoever, to your absolute heart’s content. Do it! Try it! See if command of the language doesn’t give you new command of your game (or even – dare I whisper it? – your life at large). I’m betting it will.

And if you’re a fiend for this sort of exploration, please join my twitter stream at @TrueFactBarFact, where the new words just keep on coming. Today’s gem was zinfidel (a renegade red). Tomorrow’s remains to be seen. ♠

John Vorhaus is author of the Killer Poker series and co-author of Decide to Play Great Poker, plus many mystery novels including World Series of Murder, available exclusively on Kindle. He tweets for no apparent reason @TrueFactBarFact and secretly controls the world from johnvorhaus.com.