On Wednesday, you may recall that we left you with the following poser:
A bat and a ball set costs €1.10. The bat costs €1 more than the ball. How much is the ball?
Most people do not arrive at the correct answer straight away. I know I didn’t. I was with the majority of people who experience an immediate impulse to say ’ten cents.’
The question was taken from Dan Gardner’s book, ‘Risk – The Science and Politics of Fear’ and, as he mentions, the answer ten cents, ‘looks and feels right.’ However, it is clearly wrong. As soon as your brain engages and overrides the gut’s instinct, you will reach the correct answer. However, players do not always take the time to do that at the poker table.
I played the following hand this week:
I was in mid position and had 77. A tight player raised to four times the big blind. I called and so did the small blind. The flop was 7-8-K, rainbow. The small blind immediately bet the pot. The raiser folded and the action was on me.
Although it was a hand I was unlikely to release, the player was very solid and I knew he was winning on other tables. The bet was worthy of respect, particularly as it signalled that he wasn’t scared of AK. I simply called because I wanted to see how the action progressed.
The turn card was a Q. The small blind bet the pot again. By this stage, I was more than a little worried about a set of 8s. I called again. The river was a ten. He checked. At that point, I knew I had won. However, that is not the point. I went all in, he instantly called and showed 8-7, for middle two pair on the flop. That is the point.
It was the impulse to say ‘ten cents’ that provoked the call. His gut tells him, ‘I am playing Hold ‘em, I have two pair, that is a good hand, I call.’ I am presented with a problem, I have an instinctive solution.
If his head had taken a few moments to think things through, he may not have called. He may have realised that he could only beat a bluff or AK. Instead he pressed the button immediately and kissed goodbye to his stack. He was scared of a bluff and reacted too quickly. Partly, it was not his fault: as he was a slave to his wiring, as we all are. As cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker puts it,
‘People who are emotionally driven to retaliate against [others], even at a cost to themselves, are more creditable adversaries and less likely to be exploited.’
Admittedly, I also acted quickly on the river. However, I had taken a few moments on the flop to think about my opponent’s style and his range of holdings. I had tried to overrule my emotional reaction to flopping three of a kind. In the end, those brief moments paid off as I knew he wouldn’t check a set on the river. (For the purists, I am aware there was a runner-runner straight and he may have been scared of it, but we are frequent opponents so it was unlikely he would put me on that.)
I am far from immune from making the same mistake. I commit such howlers on a daily basis. One of the most exasperating aspects of poker is that often, just when you are trying to think rationally, you hear a voice that says, ‘He’s full of s*it! Call! Call!’, and you become a slave to your instincts. If you are reluctant to admit that it happens to you, think about this: how many times have you been able to predict the outcome of a hand that you were not playing?
I wager (and I can write this with the confidence of a man who knows the bet will not be taken) that it is a lot. Certainly, you probably make fewer mistakes than you do when you are involved in the pot. As soon as you placed under stress, the likelihood that your emotional reaction will override your rationality is huge.
Ideally, you reach the ‘optimal state’ that allows the perfect blend of mind and body. Recall how Doyle Brunson puts it, ‘I go with my feeling, which is really a rapid analysis of conscious and subconscious thoughts.’ Achieving such a state will be difficult and I am nowhere nearer knowing how to reach it, but taking a second before declaring ‘ten cents!’ definitely helps.
A bat and a ball set costs €1.10. The bat costs €1 more than the ball. How much is the ball?
Most people do not arrive at the correct answer straight away. I know I didn’t. I was with the majority of people who experience an immediate impulse to say ’ten cents.’
The question was taken from Dan Gardner’s book, ‘Risk – The Science and Politics of Fear’ and, as he mentions, the answer ten cents, ‘looks and feels right.’ However, it is clearly wrong. As soon as your brain engages and overrides the gut’s instinct, you will reach the correct answer. However, players do not always take the time to do that at the poker table.
I played the following hand this week:
I was in mid position and had 77. A tight player raised to four times the big blind. I called and so did the small blind. The flop was 7-8-K, rainbow. The small blind immediately bet the pot. The raiser folded and the action was on me.
Although it was a hand I was unlikely to release, the player was very solid and I knew he was winning on other tables. The bet was worthy of respect, particularly as it signalled that he wasn’t scared of AK. I simply called because I wanted to see how the action progressed.
The turn card was a Q. The small blind bet the pot again. By this stage, I was more than a little worried about a set of 8s. I called again. The river was a ten. He checked. At that point, I knew I had won. However, that is not the point. I went all in, he instantly called and showed 8-7, for middle two pair on the flop. That is the point.
It was the impulse to say ‘ten cents’ that provoked the call. His gut tells him, ‘I am playing Hold ‘em, I have two pair, that is a good hand, I call.’ I am presented with a problem, I have an instinctive solution.
If his head had taken a few moments to think things through, he may not have called. He may have realised that he could only beat a bluff or AK. Instead he pressed the button immediately and kissed goodbye to his stack. He was scared of a bluff and reacted too quickly. Partly, it was not his fault: as he was a slave to his wiring, as we all are. As cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker puts it,
‘People who are emotionally driven to retaliate against [others], even at a cost to themselves, are more creditable adversaries and less likely to be exploited.’
Admittedly, I also acted quickly on the river. However, I had taken a few moments on the flop to think about my opponent’s style and his range of holdings. I had tried to overrule my emotional reaction to flopping three of a kind. In the end, those brief moments paid off as I knew he wouldn’t check a set on the river. (For the purists, I am aware there was a runner-runner straight and he may have been scared of it, but we are frequent opponents so it was unlikely he would put me on that.)
I am far from immune from making the same mistake. I commit such howlers on a daily basis. One of the most exasperating aspects of poker is that often, just when you are trying to think rationally, you hear a voice that says, ‘He’s full of s*it! Call! Call!’, and you become a slave to your instincts. If you are reluctant to admit that it happens to you, think about this: how many times have you been able to predict the outcome of a hand that you were not playing?
I wager (and I can write this with the confidence of a man who knows the bet will not be taken) that it is a lot. Certainly, you probably make fewer mistakes than you do when you are involved in the pot. As soon as you placed under stress, the likelihood that your emotional reaction will override your rationality is huge.
Ideally, you reach the ‘optimal state’ that allows the perfect blend of mind and body. Recall how Doyle Brunson puts it, ‘I go with my feeling, which is really a rapid analysis of conscious and subconscious thoughts.’ Achieving such a state will be difficult and I am nowhere nearer knowing how to reach it, but taking a second before declaring ‘ten cents!’ definitely helps.