Oh, Say Can You See?

"Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us

To see ourselves as others see us!

These famous lines were penned by the great Scottish poet Robert Burns. Bobby would have gotten a lot of material at the poker table, because it's the rare player who has the power to see himself as others (his opponents) see him. As a rule of thumb, the view a player has of himself tends to be considerably more charitable and generous than the way others at the table picture him. So, let's investigate some typical cases and see if you can recognize any of these people. Hopefully, you won't recognize yourself.

Let's start off by examining the player who raises virtually every hand, forcefully reraises should someone dare raise him, and always caps a pot when offered the opportunity. Ask the player how he would describe himself, and he would probably say something like, "I see myself as an aggressive, dominating, strong, daunting, and fearless player."

Now, ask his opponents to describe him. Their viewpoint would be a bit less laudatory: "He's a maniac."

Or, let's go to the other end of the spectrum. Take a player like Aberdeen Angus McTavish, who hates to enter a hold'em pot with anything less than suited aces; or anyone else who tends to play about one hand every two hours. How does such a player see himself? He would use such terms as "selective, patient, analytical, and discriminating." Other players might see him in a slightly different light: "That guy's a rock."

Continuing, let us examine the player with his little bag of tricks. You know, the guy who pretends to pass with a slight movement of his hand when he's loaded, hoping someone else will bet so he can raise. When everyone else checks, he will protest that he never did so himself. Or, if he has a weak hand, he might make an out-of-turn movement toward his chips, hoping to prevent someone else from betting. How would such a player see himself? "Well," he might say, "I like to think of myself as a sophisticated strategist."

Do his opponents agree with that assessment? "Are you kidding? The bum's an angle-shooter."

Now, let's examine someone who's four racks into a game and hasn't booked a win since Ronald Reagan was president. Ask this poor soul how we would describe himself. "It's pretty obvious, I'm a very unlucky player," he will tell you resentfully.

Others at the table are certain to have a different and slightly less forgiving assessment. "Unlucky? He's a fish."

But let's say this same player finally goes on one of those unstoppable rushes some evening. Almost any hand he plays, no matter how unplayable, turns into a winner that night. As he piles up his huge stacks of chips, ask the gentleman to evaluate himself and he's likely to shrug and modestly admit that he's simply an expert player.

Ask anyone else at the table, and the answer will be slightly different. "That pigeon has a horseshoe up his butt," will be the sour reply.

Ever find yourself seated at a table with a player who talks endlessly, even when everybody ignores him? Someone who feels compelled to comment on every hand played, to offer his analysis of every upcoming ball game, to tell you about a movie he's just seen, to describe in detail his physical ailments? Mr. Voluble, you can be certain, sees himself as "sociable."

His long-suffering tablemates are likely to take a different view: "Damn nuisance."

The list goes on and on. Someone who calls for a deck change every time he's lost two hands in a row thinks he's a logical and aware individual who's altering his karma. To others at the table, he's a superstitious idiot who's slowing down the game. Someone who habitually pays off bets by calling with marginal hands thinks he is doing his job by keeping the bettor "honest." His opponent raking in the pot sees him differently: "A calling station."

Finally, let's scrutinize the individual who approaches you, assures you that he's the favorite to win tonight's tournament, and offers you the opportunity to stake him for 50 percent of his action. How does that individual see himself? "I'm a professional poker player and an entrepreneurial dealmaker," he is likely to respond proudly.

The rest of the poker world might have a different view: "A railbird."

Well, that's just a sampling. From the evidence, I don't think the "giftie" has enlightened very many poker players.