Why You Keep Getting Bad Beat At The Tables

It was about two weeks ago Thursday when I played the hand that changed my perspective on Internet poker forever.

I was playing one of those crapshoot multi-table tournaments on Party Poker, and was inching towards the bubble with a pretty healthy chip stack.

Two more to bust before we were all in the money, and I look down to find bullets. Rockets. Pocket Aces. The cure for what ails you.

From middle position, I was first to act and limped in. I figured one of the maniacs behind me would get cute, and then I'd lay the wood. Sure enough, the short stack on the button pushed, and in what I read as an isolation raise, the big blind pushed too!

The big blind was the big stack, but was such a maniac that I didn't think twice before pushing myself. The cards were revealed, and I was way ahead. The short stack had Ace/Ten, and the big blind maniac had Ten/Ten! I was an 83% favorite from this point, and when the flop fell with no help to the others I felt invincible. Another blank on the turn...

...And then it happened. The river. Maldito rio.

It was the case Ten. I went from above-average chip stack to bubble boy in one lousy card.

I slammed my fist on the desk in anger and screamed aloud, "Why have the poker gods forsaken me!?!"

My computer chirped back at me instantly in a familiar tone. "You've got mail!" This was a little weird considering I didn't even have AOL, but I checked my mailbox anyway, and I did have mail.

"Antigua Awaits," read the subject line. I opened it up to find a link to a travel website with all arrangements confirmed in my name, and the opportunity of a lifetime.

I had been beckoned to speak with Poque the First, God of Online Poker.

I arrived via small plane on an off-map airstrip two-tracked through a Caribbean meadow where I was greeted by my Antiguan sherpa Winston. With his assistance, we were set to make the trek up Boggy Peak in the southwest corner of the island, where Poque the First makes his residence.

After a fairly tough climb for only being 1300 feet above sea level, I arrived at the mountain estate of Poque the First. Poque the First is a smallish man with tiny hands and a bald head that bears a striking resemblance to Freddy Deeb. I doubt this is coincidental. While I had expected that a proper god might be adorned in flowing robes and gilded crowns of woven olive branches, this god was shod in perhaps the most luxurious velour tracksuit I had ever seen, with mirrored shades and a platinum rope chain completing the ensemble.

Poque the First greeted me amiably, and brought me into his den for our interview. The room was plush, and not unlike a sports bar or off-track betting facility, a multitude of monitors were scattered throughout the room - each featuring different tables from different sites as they were being played.

I was assured this would be a no-holds barred interview, and sat down with Poque the First to understand his role in this new gaming phenomenon.

PokerPlayer: Poque the First, thank you so much for taking the time. Can I just call you "Poque?"

Poque the First: Absolutely, and it is my pleasure.

PP: I'm curious as to your name. "Poque," of course, being an early version of the poker we know today - but "the First" alludes that there may be more who come after you.

PTF: Good catch. Under the direction of Loki himself, those of us who are chosen to reign in sub-realms to his are able to choose the new name under which we will rule. Kind of like your Pope. I chose "Poque," as per your assumption, and since I am the first god of online poker, the rest is self-explanatory.

PP: So you work under Loki...

PTF: Yes.

PP: The Norse god of mischief.

PTF: This is surprising? Watch this.

On a nearby monitor, a picture-in-picture screen showed an average twenty-something American in a baseball hat subset in the game in which he was playing. I watched Poque deal him Aces at the tournament table at which he was playing, then magically make every action button (bet, check, fold) disappear from his interface. The young man watched in vain as his character was timed out, folded, and three players went all-in pre-flop. Just to add a final touch, Poque put the two remaining Aces on the flop. The young man threw his mouse against the wall, shattering it to pieces.

PTF: (Laughing heartily) That guy is my favorite. I've got him completely convinced that online poker is rigged.

PP: Wait, but if you're interfering like this, wouldn't he be right?

PTF: Of course. But I don't rig it against everybody. I don't have the time anymore.

PP: What do you mean by that?

PTF: In the earlier days of online poker I watched almost everyone play. I took a great deal of pride in meting out the good luck with the bad as evenly as possible.

PP: But...

PTF: But, that was not Loki's will. As online poker grew, it became not only impractical to keep things even, but Loki bid me towards chaos. Now, I have my eyes on a few thousand players in particular, and from there I do pop my head into everyone's game from time-to-time. Just to keep things fresh.

PP: So that one-outer that brought me here?

PTF: (Beaming) You like that one? Hey, you were the one who wasn't content to just coast into the money. I couldn't help but have a little fun with you.

PP: Yeah, thanks. I noticed upon walking in that you've got nearly every single online poker site out there represented on these monitors around the room.

PTF: Every one but PokerStars.

PP: Why not PokerStars?

PTF: They don't need me. They already have the reputation for bad beats. Are you familiar with their nickname?

PP: No.

PTF: You've never heard them referred to as "RiverStars?" Regardless, I can just let things go over there. They're not rigged, but they don't need my help.

PP: So what did you do before becoming the god of online poker?

PTF: This is a new era, and I'm really quite pleased with the way Loki is embracing new technology. Before this, I was the god of ice fishing for a couple thousand years. It wasn't a very exciting position until the thaw every year. Then I could find the guys still intent on driving their trucks out onto the ice in fifty degree weather and set them adrift. I miss that part of it a little bit. But it was pretty menial job, so far as being a god is concerned. Prior to that, I cut my teeth as the god of coin tossing.

PP: Coin tossing?

PTF: It was my internship. Can't screw up "heads" or "tails" I suppose.

PP: Fascinating. Can you tell me who else works under Loki?

PTF: Considering I had to get special permission and cut through miles of bureaucratic red tape just to bring you here, no. I really can't I can, however, tell you that what you have long since thought to be true...

PP: That there is a god of golf?

PTF: (Smiling, nodding, and clapping) I can neither confirm nor deny that.

PP: Myths and legends are filled with stories of mortals offering sacrifices or appeasing the gods in some way to provide themselves a favorable outcome. What can we do to get you on our side at the tables?

PTF: The only downside to working under Loki is his "No Tipping" policy. You can't so much as roast me a goat anymore without Loki raising an eyebrow. Now, there are some things that you mortals do that raise my ire.

PP: Such as?

PTF: (Pondering) I believe we need to leave some mysteries intact. However, my counterpart at the local links? He'd probably prefer to see those "Dorf on Golf" videos in the landfill instead of in your DVD collection.

PP: Duly noted.

PTF: Oh, and maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but the more attention you draw to yourself in those little chat windows at the poker tables? I love knocking those self-proclaimed (finger quotes) "experts" down a peg or two.

PP: Is there anything else you'd like to communicate to our readers before I let you get back to work?

PTF: (Looks around furtively before leaning in) Let's just say that if you get all your money on the table as a favorite, I'm going to find the most creative way possible to bust you. Not every time, mind you. But don't be like our friend Jimmy here (gesturing towards monitor where the young man is picking up pieces of shattered mouse). Have a couple extra mice around, and know that I'm a trained professional. I cause chaos for a living. All these guys who calculate the percentages to catch a certain card or cards on the turn and river?

PP: Yeah?

PTF: Let me make those calculations real easy. It's all 50/50. You're either going to catch the card, or you're not.

PP: And it all depends on if you're watching.

PTF: (Smiling appreciatively) Now you get it!

I left Poque the First's mountain estate with little more certainty about online poker than I had before - but I knew two things for sure. First, I was going to have to get rid of some of my Tim Conway DVDs by any means necessary. And second? Unless you're that angry young man plucking tiny little screws out of his shag carpeting, Poque the First doesn't really care if you win or if you lose.

Some days you'll get Poqued, and other days you'll be the one doing the Poque-ing.