Bafflegab

Back in the day (and I’m talking waaay back in the day, when $1-4 seven-card stud was not only a big game to me but likely the biggest game in the house) I used to use an image play that drove my opponents batcrap crazy. I would take a dollar bill, any old random one I happened to have on hand, and slowly, methodically, shred it into tiny, tiny bits. Then I would take these bits of ex-dollar and fluff them into a little pile by my chips. I played with the pile obsessively, breaking it down and building it up, just like a madman. I let a wild light come to my eye, but I really didn’t need to go so far. The mere act of shredding that dollar bill convinced my foes that I was definitely and unequivocally out to fricking lunch. It was a strong image play, probably the best value for money I’ve ever gotten out of such shenanigans. Why? Because it wasn’t just strange and unexpected, it was taboo … even illegal, according to some people (though not, as it happens, according to the law, for destroying US currency is protected under free speech provisions). In any event, it was unsettling. It made people ask why would this madman intentionally destroy a perfectly good dollar bill?

The answer of course is perfectly clear: to put you on tilt.

As such, the strategy worked a treat. Those who weren’t upset by what I did were at least intrigued. Those who weren’t intrigued were contemptuous. They figured that if I was so far around the bend as to destroy a dollar bill, I couldn’t be much of a threat at the poker table. (In fairness, at the time I was not much of a threat, but that’s a story for a different time.) And even those who didn’t judge me certainly thought about me, which was really the point of the exercise: to get people thinking about me. About my actions. My motivations. My mental health. And the more they thought about me, the less they thought about – yeah, that’s right – them.

Do you have this weapon in your arsenal? Do you have strategies and tactics for taking your opponents’ focus off their own decisions and actions and putting that focus on you? It’s a great tool to have hand, and one that’s so easy to use. Tell jokes. Make random (or inflammatory) political observations. Speak in funny voices. I have a friend who does a killer Barack Obama impression. When he bets or raises in Obama’s voice, people can’t help but stare or laugh, and this makes them think a little less clearly about their own bets or raises. Try it! Try it for yourself. You don’t have to be a clown or an impressionist. You really only need a dollar bill.

Will you look like a fool? Of course you’ll look like a fool. And what, pray tell, is wrong with that? If your foes think you’re a fool, they will completely underestimate you. If you think you can’t make money on the margin between how they view you and how you really are then you simply aren’t paying attention.

Of course, if you don’t feel like swinging from the jester’s rope, there are still myriad other image plays you can make. Have you ever considered launching a misdirectomy or two? This involves giving people poker advice that you know to be wrong. Not only will this distress those who have a staunch taboo against “giving lessons at the table,” it will also cause people who listen to you to completely misjudge how you play the game. Yes, it’s ballsy and yes, it’s whimsy, and no, not everyone can pull it off. If you can pull it off, however – if you can talk one way while playing another – you’ll have everyone zigging while you merrily zag. A consummation devoutly to be wished.

Now, having said all that, let me wave the following flag of warning: This sort of image chicanery is really only appropriate to games where you already have very much the best of it. If you’re among a bunch of drunks, or clueless tourists, or congenital woodentops (oak from the neck up), then by all means fling as much image as you can. If, however, you’re in a game where the players are generally as smart as you, or smarter, you want to proceed carefully, or lay off altogether. Why? Because good players will see through you like glass, and easily deduce both your real intent and your real approach to the game. Example: If you’re intentionally and loudly mis-measuring pot odds (something I will do from time to time in the right circumstances), your best foes will know that A) you got the math wrong on purpose, B) you probably know what the right math is, and C) you can be counted on to do the opposite of what you’re saying with your image play. In such a game, you’re much better off just keeping mum and focusing on playing correct poker. Then again, if the game is that tough, why are you in it in the first place? Like the sign says (and has always said), “Don’t challenge strong players, challenge weak ones. That’s what they’re there for.” Any time you’re in a game where your image shenanigans won’t work, you’re probably in a game that’s not so good to begin with. Take a look around the room. Find a better game. Find a game where shredding a dollar bill has some, shall we say, currency. That’s the game you want to play in, for that is a game you can beat.

In my novels (comic mysteries featuring the exploits of world-class con artist Radar Hoverlander) I often use the word “bafflegab” to describe the verbal tricks that scamsters will use to dupe the unsuspecting marks, mooks, rubes, and suckers who cross their paths. Out here in the real world, the deft use of an image play can be a very effective form of bafflegab. You can get your foes leaning the wrong way, and then hit them when they tilt. Again, try it! Try it by shredding a one-dollar bill. Try it with a twenty if you dare. Just don’t try it with a hundred.

Send that to me instead. ♠

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.