The Rules Guy: How To Conduct Yourself at the Poker Table

Most players learn poker’s explicit rules pretty quickly: the “one-chip rule,” for example, or “verbal declarations are binding.” But not everyone seems to have digested the game’s vast book of unwritten rules, admonitions like “don’t berate other players (particularly bad ones)” or “say ‘nice hand’ even when you mean something entirely different.”

Enter “The Rules Guy.” TRG believes that civility and sportsmanship are never wrong, and that bad behavior (even when you’re simply trying to get an edge) is bad for the game. Have you got a question about how to conduct yourself at the poker table? Email TRG at [email protected].

Almost, but not quite, meaningless…

Dear The Rules Guy:

I’m sure every player knows someone like this: the guy who picks up an entire stack of chips, reaches towards the betting area and then drops one or two chips for a call — and sometimes just raps the table for a check. I know he’s shooting an angle, but I confess I still cower a bit when I see those chips crossing the line. Is there something I can say when he does this? And your thoughts on betting lines, please?

— Wary in Laramie

There are some days when The Rules Guy wonders if poker hasn’t become one long, semi-continuous orgy of angle shooting, bad behavior, and one-upmanship. In fact, there are seven such days each and every week, or at least that’s the way it seems when TRG is inside a card room.

There are also days when TRG believes that everyone outside of poker is shooting angles, too, allowing their competitive impulses — a “winning at any cost” mentality — to override their sense of fair play, honor, and personal integrity. A better amateur psychologist than TRG might say such behavior is driven by an inferiority complex…but TRG digresses. Back to your question.

You’re right: This particular intimidation tactic is as rampant as it is ineffective, but still irksome. The fake bet or the “aggressive” check is hardly an angle at all, just a bit of posturing that can only be dangerous to the easily intimidated. Your opponent is (a) trying to elicit a reaction using a classic scare tactic or (b) hoping to be seen as an aggressive, alpha male, table captain type.

TRG isn’t dismissing your fears, just reminding you that they are probably misplaced. Recall Mike Caro’s core dictum (in Caro’s Book of Tells): Strong means weak and weak means strong.

Rules vary on what constitutes a bet, but it seems to TRG that the key rule is this one, from the Tournament Directors Association (emphasis theirs): “It is the player’s responsibility to make his intentions clear.”

That’s in the rule about raising (No. 40 if you’re interested in looking it up), but making your intentions clear strikes TRG as an important part of a fair game. If your intentions aren’t clear, you’re either a moron or you’re shooting an angle. But whatever you’re doing, you’re not living up to your responsibility.

It doesn’t take much practice to verbalize your intention or cut the bet out of your stack before you put the chips into play. And TRG will even say it’s acceptable to use the cutting-the-bet-out tactic to get a read on a player; that’s a legitimate form of trying to gain information. But when you grab chips and cross the line, well, you’ve crossed the line. Sort of.

Which brings TRG to the notion of the betting line that adorns so many poker tables. Many players mistakenly assume the betting line represents a boundary: Cross it, and you’ve made a bet. Don’t, and you haven’t. Would that this were the case; it’s a triumph of good and common sense.

But the reality is considerably less germane to players. The betting line is primarily a convenience for dealers (though opinions differ on this point). If a bet is across the line, it’s easy for the dealer to bring the bets into the middle when the action is complete. It’s a nod to ergonomics. This isn’t a bad rationale for the betting line: greater speed and greater accuracy in ensuring the pot is right.

And whether it’s binding or not, the existence of a betting line also reduces the opportunity for angle shooting. If chips are dropped on the inside of the line, it’s hard to make a case that it wasn’t a bet or a call.

TRG’s question for poker’s rule makers is simple: Why not make the betting line binding when it comes to betting? Put the chips over the line and cut them out on to the felt: That’s a bet. If not over the line, that’s not a bet. The real challenge for such a rule is the guy you describe, who puts chips over the lines but doesn’t cut them out. The ultimate challenge is to get players to simply announce their intentions unambiguously, with words or chips.

As for what you can do: You always have the right to ask for clarification: “Is that a bet? Is that a raise? How much is the bet?” and get an answer before committing to a call or taking another action. Asking for clarification (in turn, please!) is a great habit if you’re facing a mumbler, a silent player, or an angle shooter.

In your case, a couple of such questions should deter your would-be table captain from continuing or at least alert other players to his machinations.

Have a good rationale for not making the betting line binding? TRG would love to hear it.

Get off the damn phone…

Dear TRG:

The rules are clear: According to the TDA, “Players may not talk on a phone while at the poker table. House rules apply to other forms of electronic devices and electronic communication.” The WSOP has a similar rule. Why does this go on? And what can we do about it?

— Silent Cal Coolidge

TRG confesses that he loves his smartphone and cannot imagine life without it. (What on earth did TRG do before Words With Friends?) But TRG is old school enough to look askance at people who talk, yell, argue, and shout indiscriminately — who yap away as if no one were around. (And there’s a special circle of hell for those who can’t be bothered to use a headset or hold the phone to their ear, treating their phones like speakerphones in public. Horrible behavior!)

It’s not just that we don’t want to hear about your boss, your ex-wife, your shingles, your car troubles, or your bad beat(s). (But make no mistake: we don’t. None of us.) It’s that we don’t want you to slow down the game or distract the players in the hand.

This is an issue of common decency, a mild exercise in morality. What ought to be done should not need an explicit rule at all: Don’t talk on the phone while you’re playing. Don’t even talk on the phone while you’re out of a hand if you’re still sitting at the table.

Of course, there are explicit rules about phones at the tables, and they vary from room to room, but are designed to prevent collusion — obviously, a worthwhile and necessary goal. But for once, forget about the rules: Don’t use your phone in a way that encroaches on another player’s mental or personal space. Just don’t do it. Not because of a rule. But because it’s rude. ♠