Poker Articles

When to Leave a Game
By Nolan Dalla
(All Rights Reserved)

In previous writings, I've addressed the question of when is the correct time to leave a "good" poker game -- even when you're convinced the game is beatable in the long run. Some of those columns generated discussion, and even controversy. Since all players must ponder the question of "when to leave" each and every session, I thought it would be wise to follow-up with a few additional thoughts on the subject.

In my earlier columns, I gave specific examples from holdem games in Atlantic City. In one situation, I played in a tough $15-30 game and won $1,000 in just 45 minutes. While stacking chips from yet another pot won, I was called for another game at the adjacent table. I decided to pick-up from the table and move to the next game. My reasoning was that even though I made good money, the present lineup of tough players made my large win something of aberration (I knew every person at the table -- all were competent players). The prospect of additional earnings against the tough players was negligible, and certainly not as favorable as another game I was scouting that appeared much softer.

In the second example, I sat down in a loose $20-40 hold'em game. The game was really wild, with many large pots and lots of action. In the first 30 minutes, I took a series of tough beats. My misfortune was obvious to everyone at the table. Thereafter, opportunities to steal, drive timid players out of a pot, or bet for value were practically non-existent. Even more troubling -- one of the best players at the table sat on my immediate left and was crushing the game. I decided to pick-up my chips and move on, convinced that I could not manipulate my opponents into doing what I wanted under those conditions. By staying, I would be forced to show down the best hand whenever I was involved in a pot. I wasn't comfortable with those limitations.

A number of readers did not agree with my advice, and were forthright in telling me so. I received many e-mails and even a few handwritten letters from players all over the country. Those who disagreed with me expressed the conventional point of view held by most poker writers which suggests -- as long as you see opponents making mistakes and you can maintain good judgment -- you should continue playing in any game. While that approach is generally correct in many situations, there are enough exceptions to this rule that merit further discussion and clarification.

Not everyone disagreed with my advice. The most convincing argument in support of my position came from a reader named Jim Karlinski. He sent his comments to me by e-mail. Karlinski started his career several years ago as a poker dealer in Atlantic City. He has since turned to playing poker full-time in Los Angeles and Las Vegas -- mostly in the $15-30 to $30-60 range of limits. With Karlinski's permission, I'd like to share his remarks with you:

Dear Nolan:
I just read your latest article. I felt I just had to tell you this funny story. A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend of mine who is a struggling low-limit pro. We were discussing about when to leave a game, how long to play, (and so forth).

It may be disturbing for you to realize that the few times I dealt to you at the Taj Mahal, and the few times we played together, you were under very intense scrutiny. Anyway, I told my friend that I learned everything I needed to know about when to leave a game one day, by dealing a game at the Taj in which you were playing.

I'm sure you won't remember this, because it happened almost two years ago. You sat down in a $15-30 game in which I was dealing and proceeded to get five raising hands in the first round of play! The game was tremendous -- with nine "tourists" and yourself. I mean, it was a fantastic game. Some of the players were drunk, and nobody was a threat to you. Anyway, you got pummeled by a few backdoor draws and ended up stuck a bundle within the first twenty minutes. Every beat was a bad one, but the game was still great. When time collection came, I couldn't believe that you got up and walked over to a more difficult table a few rows down.

I never asked you specifically why you got up from that game, but I figured it out later. I told my friend the story and the lesson I learned from watching the incident -- that momentum and control over a table is one of the most important concepts in poker, yet least understood aspects of playing the game at an expert level. Sure, the deck has no memory, and there is no way to predict how the cards will run. But the idea that each hand is an independent event is a myth perpetuated by writers who don't really seem to understand the nature of the game.

For example, if I bluff you five hands in a row -- and show you the bluffs each time -- what percentage chance do I have of bluffing you on the sixth hand? It's not exactly zero percent, but it's close. Therefore, on that sixth hand I better have the goods, or I'm losing the chips. The same concept applies to control over weak players. If I "program" my opponents by constantly winning or consistently losing, they will EXPECT me to do the same in the future. A losing player will get his bluffs and steals called more often, and in turn, be bluffed into more than a player that is winning big. Even if I'm convinced I can outplay a certain field, if in the short term I have been getting run over, it might be a good idea to consider picking up. Perhaps moving on to greener pastures is the best thing -- at least until the weak players forget about my image as a "losing" player.

Karlinski's letter makes several excellent points. A few of those points are worth emphasizing. He writes, "Momentum and control over a table is one of the most important concepts in poker." Naturally, I agree. But I'd change just one small caveat: "Momentum and control over a table is one of the secrets to winning in poker."

Few players fully appreciate the paramount influence of game perpetuity on their financial results. The majority of players, it seems, are absorbed in the present. Their perceptions are jaded by short-term memories of what they observe. When opponents see you losing hand after hand, they tend to play with more confidence (which usually means more aggression - which is bad news if you're trying to re-establish control and manipulate your opponents into playing incorrectly). This, in effect, accentuates your chances of suffering protracted losses. On the other hand, it also fuels the fires of fear in your opponents' eyes when you are winning big. In essence, game perpetuity (or momentum) validates the conjecture of alternation in poker cycles -- that when you are running bad, it can seem like eternity. And when you're winning big, everything seems to go right. In other words, when it rains, it pours.

Karlinski adds: "The idea that each hand is an independent event is a myth perpetuated by (those) who don't really seem to understand the nature of the game." Again, he's right on target. The problem with the conventional point of view about staying in a game is that it relies too heavily on the popular poker idiom, "in the long run." We hear this all the time in cardrooms, particularly amongst more sophisticated players: "I'm down in the game right now. But, in the long run I know I can beat these guys." That's probably true if you are playing against less-skilled players. Trouble is, you don't have an infinite amount of time with the weak players for statistical probability to run its due course. You probably have, at most, only a few hours to exploit your advantages. It's not necessarily long-term anticipation of positive results that are important, but what can be expected to happen in the next few hours that matters. A player that is losing badly, even if he is a competent player, is at a serious disadvantage because (in most cases) he simply doesn't have enough time to resurrect his tainted image and reassert control over opponents. At 25-30 hands dealt per hour on average, he may have only 100 hands or so to turn things around. He'll be at the mercy of the deck, praying for help. That's the problem.

When Karlinski wondered "why" I got up from a good game after getting five powerful hands cracked in twenty minutes, he was on track to discover a powerful winning concept. The concept underscores the importance of cutting one's losses. When losing heavily, you cannot utilize the entire spectrum of strategic alternatives that all good players must have. Your options become limited. For instance, losing often nullifies venerable poker strategies such as bluffing, semi-bluffing, raising to isolate weak players, and other advanced strategies that are employed by most good poker players. Of course when losing, there's a natural inclination within us to want to keep on playing and let the laws of probabilities take their course. The problem is -- staying in a game where you have suffered some humiliation makes the advanced concepts you've learned, and perhaps even mastered, futile. After they see you lose a rack or two, you're going to have to show down the best hand to win the pot. It's as simple as that.

In poker, there are always exceptions to any so-called rule. An unimaginative (tight) strategy can be a winning strategy in some "no-fold'em holdem" games, even when you have suffered heavy losses. Some games are comprised of so many poor players that you can play a straightforward game and still grind out a profit, although the ordeal will be a test of patience. That being said, I still tend to take a contrarian approach -- that if you can't use all of the concepts you have learned through years of study and experience, you are not maximizing your full potential. You're playing poker with handcuffs on.

Look for games where you can use your full range of skills. This is particularly true in venues where there are plenty of good games to chose from. If there are plenty of games available, why stay at a table where you are getting crushed when you can make a fresh start elsewhere?

The overwhelming majority of my poker experience has been in middle-limit games (hold'em, Omaha, and stud). These games -- which range from $10-20 up to $40-80 -- seem to attract the widest distribution of skill, by far. In middle limit poker -- players range from those who have almost no grasp of fundamental concepts, to players who are near-experts. Such a diverse talent pool makes for a wide variety of games and table conditions. By practicing proper game selection, combined with knowing when to leave a game and cut your losses, you will put yourself ahead of most of your opponents who continue playing in bad situations. "When" you decide to leave a game can be just as important as which game to join.

Nolan Dalla can be reached at: nolandalla@pokerpages.com