I received the following email recently: “I have been playing a few years and consider myself a pretty good player. I consider myself Bob Dancer-trained and try to play accordingly. I have given up at least six royals going for the high pair. My question is how you overcome the mental anguish of missing the royal. It takes me days to get over it. I am retired, play 10 to 20 hours a week of 9/6 Jacks or Better or 8/5 Bonus Poker. Help me, please. Anguished in Ann Arbor.”
I did some calculation and my best guess is that this has happened to me between 600 and 700 times. But it’s a guess, because I have no recollection of it EVER happening. This guess is based on how many million hands I’ve actually played, on which types of games, and how many were on single line compared to Triple Play through Hundred Play.
We’re talking about a hand such as K♦ Q♦ J♦ 5♦ K♠, where the correct play depends on the game and pay schedule. If you’re playing Jacks or Better or Bonus Poker, like Mr. Anguished is prone to do, you hold the kings. If you’re playing Deuces Wild, you hold the suited KQJ. If you’re playing Double Bonus where flushes return 7 for 1, you hold all four diamonds.
If you hold the kings (whether it’s the correct play or not), once in 1,081 times the first two cards out will be A♦ T♦. Also, once in 1,081 times the first two cards out will be the 7♥ 3♣. As far as I am concerned, these two situations are equally relevant.
After I’ve held the kings and pressed the draw button, my “job” is over for this hand, and it’s time for me to start concentrating on the next hand. The best I can do is to play the hands perfectly. Going back and changing the past is not something I know how to do.
Although I prefer that I end up with four kings on this hand, I’m not too invested in that result. I know that I’ll get the 4-of-a-kind one time in 360 (more precisely three times in 1,081), full houses, 3-of-a-kinds, and two pair more frequently than that, but the hand will stay a single high pair more than seven times out of ten.
I have this type of draw numerous times every week. Sometimes I connect on the 4-of-a-kind and usually I don’t. Over the course of a year or two, it’ll average out pretty well, whether tonight is lucky or unlucky.
I suspect I’ve ended up with a 4-of-a-kind from this kind of position more tha 2000 times in my life. What this also means is that I’ve thrown away the royal more than 600 times from this same position. Drawing three cards to a high pair, you get any specific two cards (i.e. the cards that fill in the royal) one time out of 1,081 and you complete the 4-of-a-kind three times out of 1,081. Over the course of years, the numbers come out very close to this.
How many of this estimated 600 missed royals have I noticed? Exactly zero. Checking to see how the cards would play if I made an alternative, inferior, draw is a huge waste of time in my opinion. Doing this consistently would reduce my speed from 800 hands per hour to about 400. Why on earth would I want to waste that much time? Since I’m playing only when I have the advantage, this is slashing my dollars-per-hour win rate in half. It’s not only worthless information, but it’s expensive to gather. If you’re playing Fifty Play or Hundred Play, it could take several minutes at the end of each hand to work through all of this. Why bother?
Mr. Anguish seems to have the core belief that a missed royal is a tragic thing. He ignores the fact that trying for the royal every time (so that he can be assured of getting it when the cards are just right) would have cost him an extra 6,000 coins for every extra 4,000-coin royal received. He berates himself for not being clairvoyant enough to see the unforeseeable future.
The only reason Mr. Anguish takes the time to do this is to check whether he should feel really, really awful this time. One time in 1,081 he discovers that yes, indeed, feeling really, really awful this time is appropriate. The relief he feels the other 1,080 times is likely minimal.
To me, ignoring the specifics of a “what if” draw comes naturally. Perhaps Mr. Anguish is compelled to do this and can’t help himself. I don’t know. Offering useful advice on how you should deal with your compulsions is something I’m not good at. If this is something Mr. Anguish can learn NOT TO DO, I believe his life will work better.
