Timestamps

0:30 – hello and welcome
4:15 – GirafGanger7

As “The Poker Philosopher”, and in honor of one of my favorite non-poker blogs, I occasionally consider the ethical dimensions of a high-profile controversy or occurrence in the poker community. This is the first in a series of posts about the major players in the recent Poker Stars – Full Tilt Poker – Department of Justice settlement. Older editions of The Poker Ethicist are available in the archives.

Q: As you’ve probably heard by now, the Department of Justice recently approved a settlement in which PokerStars will buy the remaining assets of Full Tilt Poker, pay a fine to the DOJ, restore the FTP balances of non-American players, and ultimately re-open the site. American players (more specifically those of us who were Americans as of June 29, 2011), via a process yet to be determined, will be able to apply to the DOJ for restitution of our money. The online poker community, myself included, is understandably elated about this near-ideal resolution to perhaps the darkest chapter in our short history.

Many direct their gratitude towards PokerStars. The word “savior” has been tossed around liberally. Numerous Stars-sponsored players have expressed pride at representing the company. Short Stacked Shamus, in a characteristically entertaining blog post, paints PokerStars as the hero in a John Wayne-esque narrative of law-breaking and vigilantism. Dominic Kofert, CEO of PokerStrategy.com, sees them as the benevolent dictator of the new world order of online poker:

Once the acquisition is completed and Full Tilt goes back online, PokerStars, which already has a world-wide market share of around 60%, will have substantially grown the margin by which it is the largest operator in the world. With most competitors severely struggling, I will not be surprised if PokerStars/Full Tilt’s market share reaches 75% by the end of 2013.

For many, this market dominance will be something to worry about. However, judging by PokerStars’ conduct over the past years and assuming that the company’s great philosophy does not change now that PokerStars.com co-founder Isai Scheinberg has to step down, I think that PokerStars will act responsibly and with the players in mind going forward – as it has always done in the past.

Do we owe PokerStars our gratitude? Or was this just a savvy maneuver to acquire their largest competitor and establish a near-monopoly on online poker? Should the average player really be celebrating this deal?

A: To quote Grandpa Simpson, “A little from column A and a little from column B.”

Let’s start with the obvious: PokerStars isn’t doing anything out of the goodness of their heart. There’s been rampant speculation about why the company would be interested in Full Tilt. Did they seek its customer database? Good will with the DOJ? Good will with the online poker community? Re-entry to the US market? All of the above?

Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever their reasons, I believe Stars wouldn’t have purchased FTP unless they believed it was in their interest to do so.

I know they’re playing a game and acting strategically in their own best interest, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. What I’ve always respected about Stars – I used to represent them myself – is that they are playing a long game, and that’s good for customers.

Among other things, PokerStars has just purchased a generous helping of legitimacy for online poker. Black Friday and subsequent revelations about the FTP “Ponzi scheme” made mainstream headlines around the world and surely scared away thousands of would-be depositors from other online poker sites. Making the affected players whole may not undo the public relations damage entirely, but it’s a gigantic step in the right direction.

The companies that have done the most harm to online poker – Full Tilt Poker, Ultimate Bet, Absolute Poker – were playing a short game. Common wisdom once held that no company would risk slaying the goose that laid the golden egg by stealing customer money. That assumption proved wrong. Principals at all of those companies chose a short-term windfall over an uncertain but potentially even more profitable future. In other words, they took the money and ran (or not).

In ways large and small, PokerStars has repeatedly demonstrated that they are in it for the long haul. It’s clear from their recent actions that they expect to be in the online poker business 10 years from now, and they’ve just made an investment that may take that long to mature.

That makes them a good company to work with, because it means that good customer service is in their interest. They want satisfied customers and repeat business. They want legitimacy and a regulated, predictable marketplace. Their business model seems to align with the interests of their players in a way that, at least in retrospect, FTP’s and UB’s did not (though also in retrospect, the signs were there: re-entry tournaments, anyone?).

Arguably, FTP and UB made the wrong choice, not just ethically, but financially. They may well have made more money by running honest businesses. Sometimes greed overtakes good business sense, and sometimes people are just short-sighted.

I’m grateful that PokerStars has so far eluded these pitfalls, but I don’t delude myself into thinking that they are playing sheriff out of an innate sense of justice. Nor have they claimed to be. In fact, I would distrust any company that did claim such.

I expect a large corporation to act in its own self-interest. If one tries to tell me they are not, then they’re lying, and that makes me suspicious. I’m far more comfortable in a relationship where I know what game the other party is playing and I can see how their interests align with mine. Both PokerStars and I have an interest in the long-term viability and legitimacy of the online poker industry, and that makes me glad to be their customer, even if I’m not kissing their feet. I’m grateful that they seem to have the foresight that some of their competitors lacked, and that even as they close this landmark deal they continue to work tirelessly to serve their customers.

That doesn’t mean that I’m sanguine about a single company possessing such a large share of the market. I feel better when a company, no matter how benevolent the owner (who, by the way, is stepping down as a condition of this settlement) or how strong the track record, feels that treating their customers right is good business and not simply “the right thing to do” as a matter of principle. Principles change, especially when there’s a lot of money at stake.

Thankfully PokerStars still has a lot of self-interested reasons to treat its customers well. They may soon face competition from gaming mega-brands like Caesar’s/World Series of Poker in a regulated US marketplace. They know that they can’t afford to rest on their laurels if they want to gain access to that market at all, let alone be competitive in it. It’s no coincidence that PokerStars’ own announcement of the settlement concludes with these words:

Our settlement acknowledges that both PokerStars and Full Tilt are eligible to apply for a license in the U.S. to offer real money poker when states or the federal government offer such an opportunity. We look forward to this opportunity and are confident that we bring tremendous value, regulatory experience, market credibility and financial integrity to the marketplace.

We’re optimistic about the future and we look forward to sharing the next chapters in our history with you.

My sentiments exactly.

The title of this post is in German because that’s where I am right now. My girlfriend and I have just embarked on a three-month Europe trip. My inability to play online poker has become a convenient excuse to travel the world, spending several months first in Canada and now in Europe. As far as occupational hazards go, these aren’t so bad.

In a sequel to my Gray Friday article entitled Three Days in Madrid, I described meeting two new friends after a last-minute decision to play the Grand Final of the European Poker Tour. Appropriately, both Soeren and Nico are also coming to Berlin for the EPT, and I hope to see both of them today. Nico and I traveled to Cannes for the WSOP-Europe a few months ago, but this will be the first time I’ve seen Soeren since Madrid.

In the last year, Nico’s home country of Spain has adopted legislation restricting its citizens to playing on Spanish-only sites, and Soeren’s home country of Germany threatens to enact similar legislation. Back in the United States, the patchwork of pending legislation at the state and federal levels is too complex for me to keep up with it. Although the holy grail would be legislation welcoming PokerStars back into the US market so that US players could compete against the rest of the world, at this point even the creation of a US-only market would be a vast improvement over the status quo.

For now, though, I remain a poker nomad. I play the EPT Berlin on Monday and hopefully the rest of the week as well. Last night a former student who lives in Berlin picked us up at the train station and took us to dinner. Soon we’ll be on to Amsterdam, where I hope to meet another former student and also spend some time with Richard “tzen1” Veenman, a member of PokerStars Team Online whom I first met in the Bahamas earlier this year.

A long-time blog reader offered us a couch to crash on in his Paris apartment, so that’s where we’ll be after the SCOOP. Then there’s hiking in the Swiss alps, hopefully meeting a student in Switzerland while we’re there, and then on to a small town in Germany for the wedding of one of my closest friends, who asked me to be his best man on this date in 2011.

I still haven’t answered any of those big questions, but I’ve managed to orient myself and muddle my way through a messy situation by focusing on what’s important to me: relationships with family, friends, and my girlfriend; traveling, meeting new people, and having new experiences; and making the best of any situation in which I find myself, doing my best not to look to the past with resentment or longing nor towards the future with fear or anticipation.

How did Black Friday affect you? What has your life been like for the past year? How do you feel on this important anniversary?

For as long as I’ve had this blog, I’ve started every year with a series of posts about my poker-related goals and resolutions, and I’ve ended every year by assessing the progress I made towards them. I set goals for 2011– my most ambitious ever, actually- but now it seems pointless to even look at them, as Black Fridayrendered them more or less irrelevant.  The best laid plans of mice and men, eh?

I’m not really in a place to start setting poker goals for this year, either, since I have no idea what the year will look like for me, poker-wise or otherwise. Not since my final semester of college have I felt this level of anxiety and uncertainty about my future. Those Big Questions are back: Where will I live? What will I do? Who will the people around me be?

I’ve spent the last week and and a half fending off questions, some idle and some concerned, at various gatherings of friends and family. My recent life as a nomadic poker professional was strange enough to them that they’ve learned to accept without alarm the fact that I don’t know where I’m going to be two weeks from now.

Online poker made enough mainstream headlines that random aunts and uncles knew something had happened. Explaining everything that’s happened to online poker and to me in the last eight months is a mouthful that hasn’t gotten much shorter despite the amount of practice I’ve had spelling it all out.

I want to be clear that I’m “anxious” rather than “worried” or “depressed”. There really aren’t bad outcomes, which is very reassuring. Making big decisions is stressful regardless, but it is considerable consolation to feel confident that everything will work out in the end.

The two big advantages that I have over my 21-year-old self are money and experience. I graduated from college with $10,000 in the bank, $50,000 in student loans, no job, and no plan. OK, I had a bit of a plan, but it was a stupid one.

I never would have predicted it, but poker proved to be the missing ingredient that salvaged that plan. It enabled me to live with my girlfriend in Boston, start a non-profit organization, and travel extensively. What began as a way to make ends meet while searched for a job has blossomed into a full-on career, a phenomenon that was highlighted when I joined PokerStars Team Online. Knowing that I was able to muddle my way through a period of anxiety and make a very satisfying life for myself once before gives me a lot more confidence for this go-round.

The funny thing is that after two years, the whole nomad thing was wearing a bit thin, for me anyway. I wanted a little more stability and to feel at home somewhere. This didn’t make its way on to the blog, but one of my goals for the year was to get more settled somewhere.

Fail. The girlfriend and I returned to Boston intending to settle in place there and work out some big decisions about where to go and what to do in the longer term. Those conversations were taking place in late February and March. You know what happened next.

Suddenly I was driving to Montreal on Easter Sunday to open a Canadian bank account in the hopes that it would facilitate withdrawal of the money I had online. Of course that was before PokerStars painlessly returned US players’ funds and before that other site did the things that it did (or before we realized what was going on there, anyway). There was a last-minute trip to Madrid, and although I didn’t cash in the European Poker Tour main event, my third top-100 finish in the WSOP main event certainly took the edge off of Black Friday. Then two months in the Canadian Rockies, a European road trip, two months in Vancouver (featuring another deep run in a live tournament), camping in Death Valley (do you know anyone else who flies to Las Vegas to take a break from gambling?), then my mother’s house in Maryland for the holidays and some undefined period thereafter. You can imagine how quickly family members’ initial concern for my professional well-being melts away when they hear that list of “hardships”.

The only advantage that 21-year-old Andrew possessed over the man I am now was having his twenties ahead of him. Before all the 30-, 40-, and 50-somethings start rolling their eyes, let me clarify that I don’t feel old in the sense that my best years are behind me or that I’ll never have the chance to do all those things I wanted to or anything like that. As usual, David Foster Wallace captures the feeling far better than I could:

I am now 33 years old, and it feels like much time has passed and is passing faster and faster every day. Day to day I have to make all sorts of choices about what is good and important and fun, and then I have to live with the forfeiture of all the other options those choices foreclose. And I’m starting to see how as time gains momentum my choices will narrow and their foreclosures multiply exponentially until I arrive at some point on some branch of all life’s sumptuous branching complexity at which I am finally locked in and stuck on one path and time speeds me through stages of stasis and atrophy and decay until I go down for the third time, all struggle for naught, drowned by time.

OK, it gets a little too dark there at the end. My own feeling is that, “It’s not too late but it soon will be”. I’ve managed to make remarkably few major decisions or long-term commitments in the last eight years, but that’s starting to feel less tenable.

As a poker player, my instinct is always to gather more information, and there’s still so much we don’t know about the Whos, Whats, Whens, Wheres, and Hows of online poker in the US. Whether not I’ll be able to supplement my income by playing online poker has huge implications for what I do and where and how I live.

Poker has also taught me to play the hand I’m dealt and accept that the eventual outcome may not be under my control. At the moment, I’m looking no more than a few weeks into the future. I’ve got a few more days in Maryland, then I’ll be in the Bahamas for the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure, then it’s a little vaguer but possibly visiting friends and family in some combination of Maryland, New York, and Florida, then in Boston for a Boston Debate League tournament, and then… well, that’s still a work in progress.

Skimming a year’s worth of posts actually turned up a quote that should conclude this little rant nicely. It’s from one of Jared Tendler’s post-Black Friday blog posts, and I originally quoted it in my own post-Black Friday post:

Right now you’re looking for answers. The problem is that some of you are so desperate for answers you’ll listen to almost anything or anyone. That desperation is very similar to feeling desperate to win. You’ll do almost anything to shake this feeling because the uncertainty is almost too much to handle.

The reality is that there aren’t many answers out there right now. If you try to force an answer too soon, you’ll be making the same mistake if you were forcing the action because you need to win money right now. You have to stick to a sound and logical strategy.

Happy New Year, everyone. Let’s make it a good one.

More than 20,000 players from around the world will all compete in the same tournament, at the same time. In a matter of hours and through the magic of the internet, a few lucky players will turn $55 (or less, obviously there are tons of satellites and an FPP buy-in option) into six figures. Of course a few people do that every week in the lottery, but this is a competition where skill matters, where at least some players will actually have a positive expected value, and where rather than raking a massive cut of the prize pool the way a state lottery does, PokerStars is actually adding money via bounties on myself and the other Red Spade pros.

The tournament takes place this Sunday, November 20th, at 3PM Eastern. Even though we’ve never met and live on opposite ends of the Earth, you’ll have the chance to compete against me and win a bounty for busting me. I think that’s pretty cool.

One of my first thoughts, upon hearing the news of April 15th, was that I was suddenly going to have a lot of time on my hands. My girlfriend and I were already going to a wedding in North Carolina, and we quickly made plans tovisit friends New York and invited another couple up to visit us in Boston, and . Then I began to realize that actually there were some poker-related things that I ought to do, such as go to Madrid for the EPT event there, and that our lease in Boston was up at the end of May.

Given that we had no permanent residence anyway, leaving the country seemed like a very viable prospect. Less than a week after Black Friday, though, there was very little information about what would be required for expatriates to start playing on PokerStars again. I figured that I ought to get all my ducks in order in the few days that I had, because I wanted to avoid moving out of the country without even knowing for sure that I’d be able to continue playing online. Plus, even if the relocation thing didn’t work out, there were rumors swirling that having a non-US bank account might expedite the process of getting money out of my PokerStars account, which remember at the time we had no idea when that money would become available.

So I (or I should say “we”, my girlfriend was a big help with this) did some research and concluded that I ought to be able to open a Canadian bank account without a Visa or proof of residency. Several posts on 2+2 corroborated this.

We drove from Boston to Montreal on Easter Day. We didn’t lie at the border, but we never mentioned poker, either. We just said we were visiting, which is indeed how we spent most of our time. It was the first time my girlfriend had ever been outside of the US.

We spent that night in a hotel in touristy “Old Montreal” but had reserved a studio apartment with a landline, which our research indicated would be important for the PokerStars verification process. The next morning I woke early and walked a few blocks to a UPS store.

“Bonjour. I need to get a mailbox.” The woman behind the counter looked like a deer in headlights. She was barely twenty years old and clearly did not speak much English. I’d come to Montreal under the impression that it was a bilingual city, but really it’s a French-speaking city with many residents who can speak English. All of the signs are in French, and in most neighborhoods, people will presume that you speak French.

“Une boite postale?” I studied quite a bit of French in high school and college (well I didn’t do much studying in high school, had a terrible relationship with the French teacher, but that’s another story). As you might guess from my nom de internet, I was interested in French philosophy, and at my best I was translating Foucault. I can still read most anything in French, but I was never much for speaking or especially listening, and of course it’s only gotten worse without practice.

The woman still looked confused, but it turned out this was because she was knew and had no idea how to sell me a mailbox. “I must call my supervisor,” she stammered. The supervisor spoke English very well and explained the options to me, then had me hand the phone back to the employee in order to walk her through the process. Fifteen minutes later, I had a mailing address in Montreal.

I rendezvoused with the girlfriend back at the hotel, where we checked out and then headed to the nearest bank. A young Asian man at the reception desk told us that there were no appointments available until late in the afternoon (appointment? to open a checking account?) but directed us to a larger branch a few blocks away.

The receptionist at this large downtown branch, which was on the first floor of a skyscraper named for this bank, was a snooty-looking woman who seemed put-off that I was even asking her about a checking account. In her defense, I was dressed like a tourist and wearing a backpack and probably looked like I’d be keeping a balance of about $500. She told me that I’d need to have a tourist visa or work permit.

Thinking that I was calling her bluff, I asked, “Do you have anything in writing that I can take with me? That says which documents I’ll need.”

Without missing a beat, she reached under the counter and produced a sheet of paper that explained exactly what she’d just told me. This was not at all what the bank’s website had led me to believe, but it was clear that this woman wasn’t budging, so we left.

Another major Canadian bank had a branch just across the street. This time my girlfriend waited outside with my jacket and backpack, and I looked about 70% more professional. I asked the receptionist what I’d need to open a checking account as an American. “A tourist visa, a work permit, something that proves your address.”

“I have to have a proof of address?”

“That’s right.”

Once again, she had this policy in writing, though she was much friendlier than the woman at the first bank. Ugh, this was just not consistent with everything we’d heard.

Dejected and a little embarrassed, we checked into our apartment and did some more reading. People were still saying that they’d opened Canadian bank accounts with no problem. One 2+2 poster even said that he worked for a Canadian bank and knew for a fact that Americans could open accounts without any kind of Canadian documentation.

The next morning, I made an appointment to meet with an account specialist at a bank in a more residential location. It wasn’t particularly close to the apartment, but Montreal has a great bikeshare program where $5 gets you virtually unlimited use of bikes parked all around the city for 24 hours. Pick a bike up at any station, drop it off at any station. It’s one of my favorite things about the city.

I rode a bike up to the bank at the appointed hour, and when I went to drop it off at a station across the street from the bank, I encountered a

dark omen: a deck of playing cards had somehow spilled in front of the bike rack and was now dingy and rain-soaked and generally dismal-looking. Sighing, I went inside.

The account specialist immediately started explaining to me the accounts that were available. There wasn’t a single question about where I lived or why I wanted the account, and the only ID I needed was my US passport and my Maryland driver’s license. I don’t know if it was the residential location or the fact that I had an appointment, which seems to be standard for opening a bank account in Canada, but it couldn’t have been easier, and I walked out with a checking account and an ATM/debit card.

Unfortunately, by this time it had become clear that PokerStars was going to require more than a phone number, an unsubstantiated address, and a bank account, and also more than the few days we had left in Montreal to consider my case. The good news, which incidentally reduced the utility of my Canadian bank account, was that they’d also made arrangements for US players to withdraw funds. I returned to the US with a Canadian bank account and mailing address that may or may not prove useful and without a guarantee that I’d actually be able to play on PokerStars if I were to return to Canada.

My heart beat eagerly as my eyes scanned the waiting crowd at Madrid-Barajas Airport. It’s nice to know that, after nine hours of traveling, there is a friendly face seeking out you amidst the anonymous crowd, but there was more to my anxiousness than that. The face I was looking for wasn’t exactly familiar: I’d seen it only once, in a photograph. But if Nico wasn’t here, I was going to be seriously screwed, with little money, even less knowledge of the local language, and no plan for getting to my hotel.

It tells the story of my first three days (though actually most of the best stories are from the nights) in Madrid, including significant hands that I played on Day 1A of the European Poker Tour Grand Final. Of course, I spent more than three days in Madrid, but the article is long enough as it is. I plan to share a few more stories on this blog in the coming days, so if you enjoy the article, keep any eye on this page for bonus material!

It still seems surreal to me, so many years later, that I can make any living, let alone such an extravagant one, clicking buttons on a computer screen. What purpose does this serve? Who is helped by my facility with hand reading, range analysis, and turn overbetting? Would the world, or even any person other than myself, be any worse off if I were no longer able to ply my “trade”? We may be about to find out.

The whole thing has always felt too good to be true, and now I feel like I am waking up from a dream. Something about this seems right and proper, in a cosmic sense, like someone has finally realized I’ve been getting away with something for too long.

In this case, GT employed much better phraseology than I did. This is an excerpt from the de-translation of the excerpt from my blog that was quoted in Hungarian on the site. Note the bolded phrase, which I swear I am not making up:

“Yesterday I accidentally found it in a spam email in Mail, which informs me that my account is $ 1,040.26.The letter 2010th February 19 dátumozású was only yesterday, but stumbled as the spam filter caught. I thought this is something a refund of the UB Hall of frauds.”

Technology always pushes the boundaries, especially ethical boundaries. The primary way to think about these boundaries, I think, is the way Andrew presented them: Does everyone have the same understanding of what is allowed, and the same opportunity to use technologies which are allowed? If so, no ethical problem.

I think the conditions that he identifies are spot-on, and I want to delve a bit deeper into them. This time around I’ve got more questions than answers, so I’ll be very curious to hear your opinions on the subject.

The Right To Know

My claim is that use of any technology allowed by the rules of a casino or poker site is ethical, and that using anything disallowed is unethical. This is because, by choosing to play at a particular venue, players agree to both their host and their fellow players that they will follow the posted rules.

As piefarmer points out, this presumes that everyone understands the rules, or at least has the opportunity to do so. Exactly what obligation does this impose on a casino or poker site? Certainly the rules need to be readily available, in writing, for any player or potential player to inspect. Assuming that they are, then I would argue that choosing to play at that venue constitutes agreement to follow those rules, even if the player never actually reads them or fails to understand them correctly.

I think that there must also be a way for players to receive clarification as to the meaning of rules. At live venues, this requires readily available floor staff and properly trained dealers who can explain things clearly and accurately. As many of us know, getting a consistent answer to a question about the rules is not always a trivial matter when playing live poker, and I believe that to be a serious failing of a casino’s obligation to its players.

Is there any obligation on the part of online poker sites to affirmatively warn their players that others may be using HUDs and other technology? I’m sure there are people every day who start playing online and have no idea that such software is available or that their opponents may be using it.

It seems to me as long technology is mentioned somewhere in the Terms & Conditions, the site meets this obligation. I’m interested to hear people’s opinions on this, though. Is there anyone who would argue that sites have an obligation to be more assertive on this point? Perhaps announce to all their players, via e-mail or pop-up, whenever they add a new program to the list of approved software?

Equal Access

This is a thornier question. Is equal access to technology essential to make it ethical? What if there were some piece of poker software that somehow violated the laws of the US but were legal in most other countries. Would it be ethical for a poker site to permit the use of this technology? Would it be ethical for players to use it? What if there were some amazing software whose creator refused to share it with anyone other than a select group of his friends?

Also, is the cost of the software relevant? If there were some amazing software that was readily available for purchase and use by anyone but that cost thousands of dollars, would we still be able to say players had equal access to it?

In response to a recent post I made about using a HUD, commenter “Elmer Fudd” asked,

“I would like you to comment on the ethics of using a HUD in the first place. It most certainly gives you an edge over players that don’t use such software and provides you with stats that you couldn’t readily obtain during a live game. I guess I’m an old-fashioned poker purist, but anything that gives you a slight edge over other players is cheating. “

I would say anything that gives you an unfair edge is cheating. Sleeping and eating better than my opponents gives me an edge. Reading more books than they do gives me an edge. Using a second monitor gives me an edge over opponents attempting to multi-table on a single monitor. Yet none of these is unfair, because my opponents have equal opportunity to take advantage of them.

An edge becomes unfair when it violates the rules of the game as defined by the casino or site hosting the game. Even if you disagree with a particular rule or believe that other players are violating it, violating it yourself is unethical because it is essentially dishonest. By playing on a particular online poker site or at a particular casino, you are promising your fellow players that you will abide by a particular set of rules. This defines the parameters of the game, the ways in which players may and may not seek an edge.

When I sit down at a live game, I accept and agree that physical tells will be part of the game, and that signaling to a partner at the table will not. My opponents, in turn, agree to the same. They know that to keep up with me in this contest, they will need to practice their face-reading skills but not their sign language. If I were colluding with another player, this would gain me an unfair advantage, because it is one my opponents are not expecting me to have and one that they have themselves agreed not to pursue.

On sites that allow them, HUD’s are a legitimate part of the game. Insofar as they do not violate a site’s terms and conditions, then everyone playing on the site implicitly agrees that they are allowed. Some may use them more than others, and some may choose not to use them at all. Similarly, I might choose not to attempt to pick up physical tells during a live game, but this does not make it unethical for my opponents to do so. As long as I have the same opportunity, the playing field is level.

Using a HUD on a site that prohibits it, even if you were to find a way to make the HUD work and to evade detection, would not be ethical. Doing so would violate your agreement with the site and with your fellow players on that site. It would give you an edge that your honest opponents would not enjoy, and this would be unethical.

Online poker is not merely a derivative form of live poker. It bears many similarities, but also many differences. Just because something would not be allowed or possible in a live setting does not mean that it is unethical when done online, any more than a rule prohibiting cell phones at the table at the Rio would it make unethical to use a cell phone at the table at MGM. Different venues have the right to establish their own rules. Some players may prefer the rules generally found in a live setting to those found online, but they may not impose their preferred rules as an ethical obligation on their online competitors.

I can honestly say that it an honor to represent Poker Stars. Not only do they offer the best games and the best customer service of any site I’ve ever played on, but they are by far the most trustworthy and upstanding. To the Poker Ethicist, that stuff is important.

When I see Poker Stars reps soliciting players’ opinions on poker forums or talking about recent game changes on the Two Plus Two Pokercast, I am always impressed by the level of thoughtfulness that goes into their decisions. Even when there are changes that don’t benefit me personally, it is reassuring to see that they are not made arbitrarily. There are people who understand poker and look out for the interests of all of their players, not just those who play high stakes or high volume, calling the shots, and the result is the best online poker site on the internet.

So if you see me at the tables (soon to be sporting a headshot of yours truly as my avatar), be sure to say hi- I’m now contractually obligated to talk to you!

Limiting online poker or banning it altogether will not stop the problem gamblers, who will continue to find ways to gamble – legally or illegally. But it will hurt the honest professionals who rely on their poker earnings to supplement their incomes. It is time for Congress to reverse the damage done by UIGEA and fully legalize online poker. More important, it is high time that lawmakers respect and protect individuals’ right to spend their time, money and careers as they choose.

Minton also does a nice job of providing an argument for poker-as-skill-game that ought to be clear and compelling to a general audience:

A 2009 study by Cigital, a leading software-security consulting firm, analyzed 103 million cash-game hands from an online card room and found that the best cards won just 12.5 percent of the time. That means the other 87.5 percent of the time, a better card player got players holding better cards to fold. This clearly demonstrates that the “luck of the draw” has little to do with a player’s ability to win.

Sidenote about the Washington Times: At the 7-11 in Baltimore County where I used to work, we sold not just the Baltimore Sun but also the Washington Post and the Washington Times. The Post is by far the best of those papers, but the Times is the most conservative, and some for that reason it had its share of fierce loyalists. We didn’t keep many on hand, and if one of the loyalists came in to buy one but found we were sold out, he would complain about being forced to choose between, “The BS and the ComPost.”

“They’re like poker fluffers,” she quipped without missing a beat. “They get it started, and then the pro comes in to finish it off. You’d have to be a pretty big tool to agree to something like that, not just ethically but like… as a matter of personal respect.”

I agree, though I’m sure plenty of people care a lot more about getting backed for these tournaments by any means necessary, not to mention getting to take credit for the win on sites like Pocket 5’s, than they do about stuff like ethics and personal respect. Anyway, I think “Poker Fluffers” is a brilliant names for these clowns, and I encourage you all to do your part to make it stick!

“I just don’t think he’s telling a consistent story on the turn and the river. On the river, now, all of a sudden he wants me to believe that he does have a monster hand and he wants to put all of the money in, so much so that he’s willing to bet more than the pot. So, on the river, all of a sudden he’s saying, “I want to play a huge pot,” and that’s not at all what he was saying on the turn.”

It’s just a transcript of a phone conversation, so it reads kinda rambly, but other than that I think I came out pretty well.

Professional No Limit Hold ‘Em, Volume 1 (PNLHE) is one of my all-time favorite poker books and the one that I recommend to anyone looking to get started to the game. I eagerly awaited the publication of Volume 2, which was rumored to deal with short-handed games and more advanced concepts, and mourned its loss when its authors parted ways with Two Plus Two Publishing.

Ed Miller, Sunny Mehta, and Matt Flynn ultimately self-published the book now known as Small Stakes No-Limit Hold ‘Em (SSNL), and it’s even better than I’d hoped.

Read the full review including my “Two-Minute Recommendation” in the Book Reviews Section of the site.

Read the full review

The question, then, is how many worse hands Villain plays like this for value. After discussing the hand for a while, we decided there actually weren’t many. AT+ mostly 3-bets pre-flop, 98 and 68 probably aren’t betting the turn, 96 needs to be discounted for lack of a flop raise, and does A7 go for two streets of value? I think it ought to, but most players probably chicken out and check the river or bet smaller.

So I think this is a shove against really good value betters but a call against pretty much any 2/4 player.

No-Limit Hold’em, $4.00 BB (4 handed) – Hold’em Manager Converter Tool from FlopTurnRiver.com

Button ($620.90)
Hero (SB) ($458.70)
BB ($440)
UTG ($359)

Preflop: Hero is SB with Q, 8
2 folds, Hero bets $10, BB calls $8

Flop: ($24) 9, A, 6 (2 players)
Hero bets $16, BB calls $16

Turn: ($56) Q (2 players)
Hero checks, BB bets $40, Hero calls $40

River: ($136) 8 (2 players)
Hero checks, BB bets $100, Hero raises $390.70 (All-In), BB calls $272 (All-In)

Total pot: $880

Results:
Hero had Q, 8 (two pair, Queens and eights).
BB had A, 8 (two pair, Aces and eights).
Outcome: BB won $878