Training for the Olympics

The Olympics occur every two years, alternating winter and summer games. The World Series of Poker rolls around every year in April and May like clockwork. This year I played in two events, and as I reflect back on my experience, I feel very much like that ski jumper named Freddie who was so outclassed that he became the underdog favorite. The difference, of course, is that Freddie trained for years and was still terrible. I played twice and went right into the deep end without one clue as to how deep deep is.

The first event of the WSOP was the $2,000 limit hold'em tournament. I woke up at 5 a.m., 6 a.m., 7 a.m., and so on, until my husband could not stand it anymore and finally went to make coffee. If I had known that this was all it took, I would have started it 25 or 33 years ago. So, now I was up but not talking. I was just frozen in time – on a long, quiet beach with a soft breeze and no clocks, stress, or people, and I had perfect hair and a perfect body. Then I remembered that I am really a very competitive person and I may actually have fun.

Barry and I left the house to go to Binion's Horseshoe. I was like a Chatty Kathy, which is a sure sign of nervous energy. Barry was trying to be reassuring by telling me that I am a natural, blah, blah, blah, like this was news. He had brought me from zero knowledge to opening hands and a speck more. What I didn't realize at the time was that a speck is just a speck no matter what you call it.

We met Mark Gregorich for their annual kickoff strategy breakfast, and they were both way too calm. I had reason to feel anxious; I just could not figure out why.

After breakfast we went up to the tournament room (it's the bingo room the other 11 months of the year). The tension was so thick that you could not have cut it with a Russian icebreaker. Besides the long-awaited Series, there were some peripheral things going on that had everyone else on edge. Also, the computers were down again for the second straight year with 615 entrants. The noon tournament did not start until 1 p.m. Since I already had my ticket, I sat for an hour trying not to peak before I actually got to play. When the tournament started, I felt OK – not great, but not suicidal, either. My table was rather cold in terms of personality, and I actually lasted for four hours. What I came away with was a new approach to this strange life and game. This was the poker Olympics, and I had not trained properly for my newfound game. Here are some savvy tips for new players that I had to learn the hard way. They are not about playing poker, but about training and survival.

1. Of course, go to the restroom before the tournament starts, but if you need to go again, you have to time it perfectly. There is a right time and a wrong time to leave the table, depending on where the button is and how close you are to it, and how fast you can run from your table to the correct restroom. Hint: Steeple jumping is a useful sport for poker players. People line the rails that lead to the restrooms, and they will not budge to let you through. Either you jump over them or learn to run them over to get to your desired destination. "Excuse me" falls on deaf ears.

2. Drink as little as possible before and during the tournament, or my first tip becomes your main objective.

3. Know the break times and the times for limit increases beforehand, because you will never know what is being said over the loudspeaker. The loudspeaker is a semimonster; it's loud but incomprehensible.

4. Endurance. As bad as you may feel about busting out, in the long run, earlier is better than later unless you make the money. I was out by 5 p.m. and Barry didn't bust out until almost midnight. We both ended up with nothing, but I was home seven hours earlier and relaxing, not having won anything. Barry was beat and dragged himself home, and he also won nothing. Hmm, that doesn't seem right. In order to survive all those extra hours, you should practice staying up hours and hours past your bedtime for at least a month before the big tournament so that you're not yawning at 11 p.m. and trying to drink really strong coffee. Then, again, you must refer to tip No. 1.

5. Breaks. They're the best time to stretch and walk around, go to the restroom, and wash your hands. There is not enough time to do anything else. At the dinner break, eat light, as food can make you sleepy, and overeating can cause table sleep. And again, drink little.

6. Good sportsmanship. One of my earliest thoughts on gambling was that you could judge a player's real personality by how he acts at the tables. I am still constantly shocked by behavior. How hard is it not to make a scene? How hard is it not to throw your cards at the dealers (another future article)? At the Olympics, good sportsmanship is the norm. Why isn't it in poker?

My overall play was way too tight, and I knew it at the time. Again, many of the guys came up to me afterward and said nice things. When I was sitting at the table with them, I felt like chum in a shark tank, but later they came up and gently gave me tips, and they were always right on. They also made me feel more relaxed about myself and the game. The interesting thing is that they were always the guys who intimidated me the most. Who knew?