Patience: The ability to endure waiting or delay without becoming annoyed or upset; to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties.
I remember back in the ’60s – yes, I can remember the ’60s…barely – I saw a poster showing two vultures sitting on a dead tree limb overlooking a barren desert. One vulture was saying “Patience, my ass. I’m gonna kill something.” While playing in the first flight of a major local tournament, I recalled that poster and was feeling like that vulture. I had given a lot of thought about how a good player gets past all the people who play at poker to get into the money and ultimately, the big money at the final table. I ended up doing some research in an archive-of-sorts I keep of poker wisdom I find here and there.
When asked about the strategies he uses to get to final tables as often as he has, Phil Ivey said – and here I paraphrase his response – “Lots of patience. Sometimes I wait for hours to get a playable hand.” He also mentioned, in the multi-day tournaments he frequents, the first days are “…boring. Lots of time spent with nothing to do but wait for good hands.” I took that advice and coupled it with something I had heard from a number of respected and authoritative sources, that being; by and large, most players play too many hands.
I decided I would follow Phil’s advice and exercise much more patience than I had in past tournaments. Looking back, I believe I indeed played too many hands; the wrong hands from the wrong position at the wrong time. It’s the curse of poker players: We come to the tables looking for action, excitement, the thrill of the chase and closing in for the kill. Scooping someone else’s chips into our own stack is, in essence, defeating our adversary and laying waste his countryside. But playing too often and going into poker battle with sub-premium hands is like entering combat with only half a magazine of bullets; you’re at a disadvantage right from the start. So I decided in this tournament I would wait – patiently – until I had full magazines. I would exercise complete and total control over any response to the Siren’s call to come mix it up. I would wait for premium hands, and then combine those with positional advantage. I would lie low, focus on and study – really study – the tendencies, strategies and tactics of my opponents. I would…exercise patience.
I made it through to the first break (2 hours) realizing I had played only three hands in all that time and increased my stack by 50 percent! I watched as others tried to ram through K-J suited from early position…and were defeated. I observed small pairs, having missed tripping up on the flop, being played unto the river…and losing. I saw small-to-medium suited connectors (admittedly a personal favorite of mine…up until now) entering pots with a raise and then be wagered like they were gold right up to the end of the hand…and losing. It was amazing to me, now watching from the sidelines for the most part, the range yet shallow depth of the hands being played. It was the proverbial epiphany, the clouds opening up and the light shining down upon my head. All that was lacking was Charlton Heston’s booming voice commanding me to “Go forth amongst the heathen and vanquish them!”
I made it through the second break, by then I had tripled my stack to a healthy size, a little more than the average at that point. The field had fallen by half; I had played perhaps eight to ten hands in all that time and even with the increase in the blinds and antes, had done well. Hmmm…I think I’m on to something here. All I have to do is make it through another three blind level increases and I move on to the second, and last, day. Final table, here I come!
Looking down at A-Q suited from the cutoff seat, my remaining opponents were the button, the two blinds and a woman who from middle position smooth-called the big blind. I raised five times the BB and the button and both blinds folded. The woman at the other end of the table thought for a short while, and then called. The flop, I thought, was perfect: A-Q-4 with the ace and queen suited in hearts. Another lesson I had learned in a different endeavor years ago was to a) Strike when the iron is hot, and b) Take profit whenever you can. So I went all-in in order to drive her out of my pot. Again, she went into the tank for a while, then called my all-in! When she turned over her pocket red Jacks I thought I was golden…until the turn brought a heart and the river another. She crushed my tournament hopes right then-and-there with a runner-runner flush!
“…There is no joy in Mudville, Mighty Casey has struck out.” Is what it felt like. Presently it’s the following morning. I have had time to think about my play, analyze my strategy and try to ascertain if anything I did was wrong. I don’t believe so. I’m going to rest, repair and relax. I’m going to work on this some more, in future tournaments. I’ve made big, and I mean BIG, money before; perhaps I was lucky then, perhaps I was good but didn’t know it. I’ll work on this some more…tomorrow. Right now, I’m going out to kill something.
Courage: That still, quiet voice that whispers at the end of a bad day “That’s okay, we’ll try again tomorrow.”
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Drew Chitiea is a semi-pro poker player living in Colorado. His tournament wins are over $500,000 with 4th place at a WPT event and 2nd place at Binion’s WPC.
