My good friend Alex Fitzgerald is generally acknowledged to be the poker world’s best teacher. He plays pretty good, too.
He sent me this “really useful article” last month.
Poker is life and life is poker. The same rules apply. – JDW
Hey guys,
I wanted to send you a really useful article today, because, well, I’ve been grinding a bit lately and I’ve missed you guys. I’ve still got a move to do this weekend, but until then…let’s get into something really useful.
This article isn’t running on America’s Cardroom. Or anywhere. This is just for you. I’m going to talk to you as if you’re one of my friends, and I’m not going to hold anything back. I hate false modesty as much as I hate cockiness, so prepare for neither.
Some of you guys look up to me. You want to do the things I’ve done in life. You want the EPT or WPT final tables. You want the WCOOP or SCOOP wins. Maybe you want to finish your own book, make your own Youtube channel, run your own podcast, whatever…it doesn’t really matter.
I’m going to give you the secret to how I’ve done all those things.
Okay, you ready for it?
You might need six whole notebooks for this.
1. Show Up
2. Act “As If.”
Pretty tough, I know.
Believe it or not, the above two items are ridiculously hard to accomplish.
Let me give you an example.
At a recent live event, I took a lesson on live tells. I did not want to go to this lesson. I was tired. The instructor was abrasive.
I showed up though, and I acted as if I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.
The guy ended up telling me:
1. I look like a complete asshole when I play, and people want to take my chips because of that
2. My facial expression can best be explained as, “who farted?”
3. I give away tells all the time with my ___________
4. Every poker player gives away tells with their _______________
Now, obviously, waking up early to be told what a jerk I look like when I play cards was not enjoyable, but learning items three through four has helped me a great deal. It allowed me to pick off a huge bluff in a WPT months later.
Unfortunately, I can’t share items three and four with you because the third tenet is.
3. Keep your appointments. Keep your word.
I told him I wouldn’t tell anyone else because that’s his business, and that’s that.
To this day, if I am more than ten minutes late for a lesson, the lesson is free. That’s not for my student. That’s to make sure I don’t get in the habit of blaming the trains or anything else.
Now, allow me to explain why showing up and acting “as if” is all you need.
No one else is working.
People talk a lot. They get a talker’s high out of saying what they’re going to do.
You should develop a personal disgust for yourself if you’re one of these people.
On a serious note, there is absolutely no reason I should be winning poker tournaments or writing books. I once streaked across a senior citizens soccer game. On a college placement exam, I was told to return to 9th-grade math. I’m not exactly a Rhodes Scholar.
I have not been prepared for any job I’ve ever done. If you listen to the early Oneouter episodes I cuss every three words, and it’s almost welcomed because there’s so many “uhmms” and “likes” between the curses.
I was an awful poker player in high school. People laughed their asses off when I told them I wanted to go pro.
I’ve written novels and scripts that never got published.
I showed up for my commercial fishing job without knowing the difference between port or starboard.
But the keywords in that above sentence were I showed up.
You can be remarkably stupid and get very far in this world. You’ve got an even better shot if you’re in the United States Of America.
When I was younger, I asked myself what a professional poker player would do in my situation.
At the time, I was mowing lawns to pay for the garage I was renting. I couldn’t afford more than $1.00 tournaments. I felt *%*&ing ridiculous keeping spreadsheets with my treasured $74.00 roll.
But I told myself, “a professional poker player would take these tournaments seriously, never take shots, and would play as much as possible.”
And that’s what I did. I acted “as if.” At school, I read every poker article I could get my hands on. At home, I played every hour I could.
And I didn’t get better.
Even when I went pro and got some money together, I wasn’t much better. I peddled a couple of tricks and was terrified of the day they’d wear out.
It’s taken me over ten years to feel completely comfortable playing No Limit Hold’em.
In that time, I’ve made a lot of sacrifices. For years I didn’t read. Other years saw me not seeing a single movie or TV show. I’ve visited beautiful cities and not seen much of them. All because I was acting, “as if.” I wouldn’t let myself have fun until the training was done. And because I was so slow I had to train much more than others.
But the rewards are so damn sweet it doesn’t matter.
You have to always be planning. “What would my hero do in this situation?”
If your hero would wake up early to lift weights then, damn it, do it.
If your hero would seek out training videos that took four viewings to understand then, damn it, do it.
If your hero would reach out to a 100 people to get one study partner then, damn it, do it.
And when you show up SHOW UP. Don’t mail it in.
I kill myself in every lesson. I chug coffee right before I go on, and I get every damn note I have in to the lesson. I prep before the guy comes on the line. I give out my personal cell. And that’s why I’m turning down more clients than I take on.
That’s the thing people don’t get. The way you do anything is the way you do everything.
How are you not going to show up in third-grade basketball and expect to make the NBA? The ballers in grade school make the middle school squad. The middle school squad members become the high school starters. College scouts look at who’s lighting it up in high school ball. NBA scouts are at all the college games.
But the good news is, nobody’s working. Nobody. Everybody’s got a damn excuse.
And the better news is, you’re likely to live to the age of 80, and poker only requires your mind to be in great shape.
Seriously, though, guys…
Do you know how many guys used to kick my ass when I played cards in high school? It was a joke.
They all had a natural feel for the game…
…And none of you know who they are.
Some of them went on to great jobs in other industries. But some of them didn’t. And it pisses me off. Because they should be here enjoying this with me.
Here’s my honest-to-God advice if you want to make it in this game. Take it line by line. Don’t skim this.
1. Develop A System.
Think through as many situations as you can away from the table. Get addicted to envisioning your opponent’s confused face when you automatically bet into them in a situation you’ve studied. Fall in love with that. Go to bed with it.
Big problems first. Know that system like the back of your hand. And play more than anybody else could ever hope to in your situation. Then play some more. Refuse to be outworked.
I have released a system of my own. There are others out there.
Copy off our papers. Take what works. Leave what doesn’t. Develop other parts. Make it your own.
Don’t trust anybody. Not even me.
Verify everything.
2. Wait A Day
I stole this from the Navy Seals. It works.
They tell you to do some nutcase stuff, but it’s all effective.
For one, sleep six hours. Set three alarms.
I did it most of the time I was coming up. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but then again, this is the game we’re in.
If you’re tired, give it a day. If you’re still tired the next day, take that day off.
But half the time, once you get a good night’s sleep you’ll be good to go the next day.
Don’t worry about pace. Just keep moving.
3. 5 Minutes…
When you wake up for that second day, and you still feel like you’ve got nothing left…
…give yourself five minutes.
I tell myself, “I’m taking the day off anyway. I’ve got nothing to lose. I’ll make myself work five minutes then if I feel like it I’ll quit.”
Oftentimes, once I get moving I don’t stop.
4. Gamble On It
When I was struggling with sobriety, I told a doctor friend of mine if she ever randomly drug tested me and found anything I’d give her $10,000. It was the greatest thing I’ve ever done for myself.
If I don’t show up to the gym, I owe my friend there money.
If I don’t show up for my poker training, I’m out another dollar total.
Gamble on yourself showing up, and you’ll never miss.
5. Stop Thinking
If you’re doing anything, you’re doing everything.
If you’re going through anxiety, the worst thing to do is nothing. Just get to the emails. Hammer them out. Go for a run. Do something with your unraveling energy.
You’re never going to feel motivated. It never happens.
I never look forward to one of my study sessions. I’d rather watch ESPN.
I hate when the alarm goes off and I have to get to the gym. I’d rather sleep in.
But with enough training, you can learn to stop thinking and just move.
Just start. Just go. Just show up.
You’ll find once you start that everything is fine. And that’s when you can…
6. Love The Pain
I hate getting on the train early in the morning during a Northeast winter to go lift weights. I love weight training.
I hate busting a tournament and second guessing myself. I hate busting a tournament then wondering why I’m not questioning my game more. There’s no one on Earth who loves poker as much as I do.
The pain is the good stuff.
I remember the all-nighters working so much more than the nights I spent partying. And I love them much more.
I hated every moment of editing The Myth Of Poker Talent. But I look back on those endless nights fondly now. Because holding the damn thing felt so good.
There is nothing more satisfying then a guttural, “I. Did. This.”
Have fun. Drink some coffee. Headbang a little more.
Love you all,
