Retrieving a Lost Distinction

I received an E-mail recently from Norman in California, who wrote: "What do you think of the retrievable rule? Myself, I've seen too much favoritism in deciding whose hands qualify for retrieval. Little old ladies and players who tip extravagantly seem to be granted more leeway than nonregulars or players who don't smile and chat a lot. I think that's deplorable, since the rules should apply equally to everybody. That's why I like the rule in one local cardroom (which states) that if a hand touches the muck, it's dead, period. And if it hasn't touched the muck, it's still live, period. Some people think that's too inflexible, but I think it's consistent with the concept of players being responsible for their own hands. What's your take?"

Well, I certainly agree that the rules should apply equally to everyone, regardless of the image they project at the table. Having said that, I must say that I think a retrievable rule is appropriate – as long as a uniform standard is applied in all cases. But I do have a problem with one respect in which the retrievable concept has mutated from its original intent and spirit. Along the way, it seems that a fundamental distinction has been lost. Consider the following scenarios:

Scenario No. 1: Player A is heads up at the showdown with Player B. They're sitting in the No. 1 and No. 9 seats, sandwiching the dealer. Player A shows his hand, which Player B can beat, so the latter turns over his winner. But knowing that Player A is a nearsighted fellow whose view is somewhat obstructed, Player B tosses his cards (faceup) toward his opponent. It is intended as a courtesy, so that Player A can see and confirm with his own eyes that he's beat, instead of just hearing about it from the dealer. Unfortunately, even though it's perfectly obvious that Player B's intention is to show down his hand, one of his cards takes an unlucky bounce, flipping facedown and making contact with the muck. But it is not mixed in with it, and his card is readily identifiable. There simply is no doubt – or dispute – as to which card is his.

Scenario No. 2: Again, it's heads up on the final round. Player X bets the river, and when Player Y folds and the dealer starts pushing the chips, Player X tosses his own cards in, forgetting all about Player Z, who had gone all in after the flop. Perhaps Player Z's cards are hidden from view, or perhaps the dealer hasn't distinctly separated the side pot from the main pot, so it still appears to be one pot. In any case, Player X momentarily has overlooked the fact that there is an all-in player, whose hand he can beat for the main pot. As in Scenario No. 1, there is contact with the muck, yet it is apparent to everyone which cards belong to Player X, and they are perfectly recoverable.

These are the kinds of situations that the retrievable rule was intended to cover. As to the uniform standard I mentioned, there should be overwhelming consensus, and the dealer should have no doubt whatsoever as to which card(s) belonged to the player. This precludes the chance of any angle-shooting, and the retrieval of a winning hand under such innocent circumstances is perfectly consistent with a common sense of justice and fair play.

Now, I can relate to the impulse behind the more cut-and-dried approach that Norman prefers. But in the evolution of the retrievable concept, a funny thing happened. You see, by making the muck itself the pivotal point on which the advocates of both approaches centered their debate, an assumption was made that is seriously flawed, and over time, it has taken hold. I'm talking about the assumption that if a hand is dead once it has touched the muck, it necessarily follows that it is still live if it hasn't. Unfortunately, this flawed conclusion has led to endless variations of …

Completely Different Scenario: Player No. 1 bets his trips on the river in Omaha high-low, and Player No. 2, having missed his flush draw, gives a crying call, thinking his rough low might sneak in (with only three players at the river, he hopes that both of his opponents are on the high end). But Player No. 3 turns over the nut low, so Player No. 2 folds. But the dealer, badly trained, doesn't kill his cards right away. They just sit there while the dealer continues counting the stub, or stacking chips, or reading other hands, and so on. After 15 or 20 seconds, a light bulb suddenly goes off in Player No. 2's head. (And perhaps it's a comment by a kibitzer at the table that flips the switch.) Wait a minute, he thinks, maybe I could have beaten trips. His attention had been exclusively on his flush draw, but now it suddenly occurs to him that his "incidental cards" might have formed a wide-gap straight draw that he hadn't even noticed during the actual playing of the hand – and he might have hit it. Even now, he's not really sure, but hey, no problem, for there his hand still sits. So, he simply reaches in and grabs it back. Since his cards never touched the muck, he is allowed in many rooms to do so. In the end, Player No. 2 drags half a pot – long after already having folded his hand.

But the concept of retrievability as it was originally conceived was never intended to give players a second chance to act. The very idea of a second chance for action contradicts the fundamental principle that action is binding. Indeed, I remember a time when it would have been routinely ruled that Player No. 2's hand was dead, muck or no muck – after all, he pitched his cards in facedown and forward, and having done so, his action was considered complete. Since all other forms of action are binding, why should folding be considered an exception? If checking is binding, as well as betting, calling, and raising, how can folding not be? After all, more than any other form of action, folding carries with it the aspect of finality.

It's ironic that in attempting to make players responsible for their own hands, the formula that Norman advocates can relieve them of responsibility for their own actions.

I think it's time for some serious review regarding the issue of when a hand is live and when it's dead. And I firmly believe that in formulating the rules that are to govern that question, the operative principle should be this: The live status of any player's hand should be determined by actions taken by that player. As things stand right now, too often the matter is dependent upon what others do – or fail to do. The result is that two players can perform precisely the same action in two instances of the exact same situation, yet in one case the hand will remain live, while in another it will be dead, depending on arbitrary factors beyond their control. But again, viewed in terms of essential principles, one's own action is the one thing in poker that is always supposed to remain entirely within each player's control.

Have you ever attempted a bluff, felt the satisfaction of having read your man correctly, and experienced that mix of exhilaration and relief that comes when he folds – only to watch the dealer let your opponent's cards sit there second after agonizing second while he lazily counts the stub with one eye on the ballgame? You want desperately to communicate to the dealer that proper procedure requires him to kill those cards right now, but you fear that your opponent could pick up on this, realize he was bluffed, and retrieve his hand.

It's a predicament that should never occur. Tells are a part of poker, but you should never, ever be able to utilize a tell that was picked up by folding – at least, not until the next hand …