I'm normally very level-headed when it comes to poker. I recognize that my profit in the game comes from the difference between my skill level and the average level of skill of my opponents. I seek out games where I am better than my opponents. It's all very logical. I play for money-period.
Well, not quite. I make at least one exception to that rule. Once a year, at least, I play in a tournament that is, quite honestly, probably over my head. I play in the World Series of Poker. I play for glory.
As I write this, I am getting ready to fly out to Las Vegas to play in the $1,500 7-stud/8 event. There will probably be at least a few hundred competitors including many seasoned tournament professionals. The field at an event like this is likely to include a wide range of players, to be sure. There will be rank amateurs just entering to have a good time. But the event will also include the very best poker players in the world. In order to win any significant money I will surely have to finish at the final table. And that means besting the best.
If I were to apply my typical standard of play, I would not enter. I am not among the very best 7-stud/8 players in the world. I am good-maybe better than 95 percent of all players. But I'm playing against the other 5 percent. So why spend the money?
The answer is that this is a chance not just for money but also for poker glory. The possible glory of winning a WSOP bracelet compels me. And that force is irresistible-even if logic fights against it.
I am not treating it capriciously, to be sure. I'm not just paying my money and hoping to get lucky. I've been preparing, as best I can, for the last couple of months-rereading my own strategy guide that I've prepared over the years, playing as much 7-stud/8 as possible, analyzing tricky hands away from the table to better understand optimum strategy, and using poker software to test the relative strength of different hands. I will also prepare physically by getting a good night's sleep, exercising, eating a balanced diet, and drinking a lot of water.
Even so, I understand my limitations. Though poker has been a nice secondary income for many years, I don't play poker fulltime. Though I have won more than my share of smaller weekly or monthly tournaments at casinos-with small buy-ins and primarily against amateurs-that is a far cry from playing regularly on the major tournament circuit. These guys, and women, do this for a living daily. This gives them familiarity with each other that they can exploit when the time is ripe.
On the other hand, I have one advantage. I am an unknown. No one will know what to expect from me-at least for a while. They may well overestimate or underestimate my play-giving me the advantage of surprise.
My overall strategy is to play solid poker from the beginning-looking only at the competition at my table. My initial goal is to accumulate chips in the early stages when, I suspect, my opponents will tend to be at their tightest. My end game relies on paying strict attention to my relative stack size while using my opponents' fear of elimination to give me select opportunities to be aggressive without the best hand. Similarly, I'll need to put my reading skills to the test, to sense when my opponents may be using their perception of my timidity to run me off of a winning hand.
The key, for me, is to acknowledge and then put out of my mind the possibility that I am overmatched-focusing instead on the task at hand-which is playing my best poker throughout the tournament. And playing my best poker is something I have become an expert at!
For more about my other exploits during the WSOP, check out my blog at www.houseofcardsradio.com.
Ashley Adams is the author of Winning 7-Card Stud and Winning No Limit Low Limit Hold'em. He hosts the radio show House of Cards, broadcast Mondays at 5 - 6 p.m. in Boston, MA, on 1510 AM, and on the Internet at www.houseofcardsradio.com. Contact Ashley at asha34@aol.com.
