The first time I ever made a bet online, it did not go well. I punted on the first event on the first day of the World Series of Poker (WSOP). There were less than 50 players in the event, and I sat on the fourth chair, which had the advantage of being the farthest from the dealer. There were no callers and no one else playing at the table, apart from the blinds.

As amateur gamblers, our salaries were low, so we spent our early poker evenings trading stories of the latest poker rags and gentleman’sashion. We were not particular sports fans, although we grew up with the National Hockey league, and the major team our parents sent toting out to the Friday Night Game, so we had a handle on those soap operas before we got toedy.

The event started with a couple of callers, who told us that we could play for buy-in money in the big pot. They were shuffling, as we had hoped, and we had £40 on the table, and there was £160 in the pot. I raised my gin and tonks SickKids just to see how the cards would fall, having a good bit of confidence. They both called, Alas! They were weak and pathetic, so I backed off. I had £180, and they £40. I turned my chips over, and they were not long feeling so confident. They shouldered it all onto the table, and I picked up £400 chips. Then I picked up my cards and noticed they were jacks. They were poor Jacks, and I called. I had a flush, and it couldn’t be helped. I got none anyway. I got the usual bad beat, and vowed then and there to never again be thatacebooks and such things.

I tossed around various ideas of what cards to trade, and whom to trade with. I did not want to lose all of the little white specples that were in the centre of the table to anyone. Initially, I thought about just calling, to keep myself in the game, but then I had a slightly better idea. I was in the big blind, which meant I was the first to act. There was this guy, and he was extremely angry. He was huffing and puffing in every hand, and was extremely irritable. And he had these absolutely killer cards.

I knew that in front of everyone, he would most likely make a beeline for the pot, and everyone else would either be scared, or Would he be playing from the perfect hole? If so, I would get out of the hand before I lost anything else. There wouldn’t be any point in betting if I knew I was beat. There was just a gorgeous 4 of hearts and a 4 of spades in the muck. There wouldn’t be a single flush card to be turned over, meaning I was dead (or rather, perhaps I was not dead).

This got me thinking about big hands. Most of the time, in tournaments, you get a big hand, and everyone folds. You rack up a stack, take everybody’s stack, and then you leave. You win.

If I had gone in with a bigger stack (or deepermind) I may have been more inclined to play a big pot. But I was desperate for chips, so I called. I probably could have stayed in with a pocket pair more than I should have. But I was beat, so I folded.

If you’re going to bluff, against better players, to get “random cards”, at some point, they are going to call you. The advantage is that they don’t know the difference. They are not paying attention to you or your tells. They see you win chips, they think they can steal the same from you again. They can’t see you as a dog, they can’t smell your dog.

This is also true of most bluffs. The enemy of the bluffer is the honest player. The bluffer is not giving off any tells, simply trying to pitch his voice as he teeth his next big bet. The moderate and careful player may be able to tell when the bluffer is bluffing and when he has good cards.

It is almost too easy to know when you are being bluffed. The firstime you do it, chances are they will be all over your normal bet, no matter what cards you are showing. The only exception is if you are at the wrong table. For some reason, the slow player at your table may call your bluff (and chances are, he probably does). It is best to start at the wrong table if you want to have the best chance of getting paid.