When I was in high school I learned to love the novels of Kurt Vonnegut.  You’ve probably heard of at least a few of his books:  for example,  Player Piano,  Cat’s Cradle,  Slaughterhouse Five,  Welcome to the Monkey House,  and Sirens of Titan.

My favorite was always Mother Night.  This was a remarkable book that I am reminded of repeatedly at the poker table.  Allow me to share some insights about poker that I gleaned from it.

Vonnegut presents a picture of a world right after World War II.  His protagonist is a spy during the war  --  pretending to be a Nazi propagandist,  spreading hate and lies about the Allies.  But he has assumed this identity only to get access to inside information that he would surreptitiously share with his CIA handler.

But the war ends.  His handler dies.  He escapes Germany,  fleeing to the United States,  with the help of Nazi sympathizers who knew him as the great propagandist.  He lives precariously and ironically,  pursued by Nazi hunters with whom he is ideologically aligned,  and helped by the very Nazis he had fought as a spy.  And so,  he unintentionally fully assumes the false identity he has created  --  trapped inside the character he had only pretended to be.

CLICK TO PLAY AT TRUE POKER

Now,  about poker.

You,  as a player,  have a certain image that you project to other players.  Even if you think it isn’t the true representation of whom you think you are as a player,  it seems true to your opponents.  That image of yourself  --  the one the other players see  --  is the image you need to be concerned about.  It is far more important than your image of yourself  --  how you view your own play.

Here’s an example.  You’re a solid,  tight,  aggressive player.  You are a winner in the long run.  You may not be a professional,  but that’s more a function of the other things you have going on in your life than it is because of the quality of your play.  You sit down at a no limit holdem table.  You get horrible cards  --  I mean the worst starting hands there are  --  for nearly one hour.  You fold every hand,  even the small blind when the hand is folded around to you.

You know that you aren’t a rock.  But what are your opponents going to think?  They’re going to see you as a one-dimensional player.

Or imagine that you raise in early position with 9h9s.  You get called by two players.  The flop comes AhKs7d.  You check,  someone bets after you and you fold.  It was the right move.  Imagine that a similar scenario unfolds a couple more times in a 30-minute period.  Players are going to tag you as weak-tight.  The label is unfair  --  insofar as it is based on a small sample size and doesn’t give you credit for the correct plays that you made.  But there it is.  Perfect though your play may have been,  strong though you may be,  your opponents  (those who don’t know you,  anyway)  will see you as a weak-tight player who folds under pressure.

Now in both of these situations you’re still going to think of yourself as a solid player,  someone to be feared and respected at the table.  But your image,  which was created by happenstance,  will be quite different,  at least to those who haven’t played with you much before.  It’s THAT image that you should be concerned about because it’s THAT image that will affect how your opponents play.

As in Mother Night, at the poker table we become what we seem to be to others.  We must embrace that image and use it  --  not letting our pride get in the way.  That’s tough to do.  It’s hard to encourage someone’s negative image of us at the table.  Our egos demand that we be respected and feared.  But if we are perceived as weak,  we should allow ourselves to be viewed in that light.