Tourneys Taught Me Fear.

You are not a Poker Player until you are asked this a few hundred times:

"Is there really a difference between tourneys and cash games?"

The short answer is "Yes." But since we are not limited to morse code, I usually give a longer but still simple answer.  This is the place where I like to start the discussion, and I suggest you try to start here as well the next time you are asked to discuss tourneys-versus-cash games.

"I would never EVER fold Aces preflop in a cash game."

Indicating that in a tournament, I might.  That should be enough to sit them down.


I remember prepping for the first-ever "biggest tourney" held in the Philippines.  It was the night before, and I was discussing basic strategies with my wife - who was playing my second seat.  (We had decided that she would play it instead of sell it, since the experience would dwarf the value of the money from the seat-sale.  Even though the seat back then cost php22,000 for a 1M Event.)

Suddenly she asked a simple question:  "What if I get Aces on the first hand and someone goes all-in?"

I remember telling her to call, of course, but not without some sighing and head-shaking.

We were playing this tournament to win, for sure, but we were also playing to enjoy the experience.  I did not want my wife - an extremely casual home-game player at best - to go through all the anxiety and heartbreak of a first-hand bustout.  It would break her heart.

Maybe I told her to fold.  Maybe I told her to pretend she arrived late and the Aces got mucked unseen.

Maybe I was giving advice based on Emotional EV.


"What if I am first to act preflop?" she asked as a follow-up.

This time I remember exactly what I answered - although I don't recall why: "Raise 1/3 of your stack"

Yep.  With the blinds at 25-50, my advice was for her to open-raise it to 7,000 and snap-call a shove.  I wanted to make sure her Aces would not go into a five-way battle.

That may seem harshly noobish now, but I tell you that story to tell you something I do believe in that I first recall hearing from Colin Moshman, and then Matthew Hilger:

"The chips that you lose in a tournament are worth much more than the chips that you gain."

That reality makes all the difference for me between cash games and tournaments.  I would fold Aces preflop in a tournament, and there is more than one scenario where I would gladly do so.

The simplest scenario is in an online Double-or-Nothing Sit-and-Go.  I am on the bubble with 4500 in chips, and the five other players each have about 2100.  The blinds are high enough - say 300/600 - that they are basically in shovesville.  Someone shoves, someone calls, the stacks are about even.  I fold my Aces and let them rumble.  Best-case, the larger stack wins.  Worst-case, the shorter stack cripples the larger one and he is left with barely a small blind anyway.  We group-call him next hand.

The same dynamics apply on the bubble of a satellite event.  28 players win a seat, 29 players left.  As before, winning everyone's chips is no longer the objective.

A not-so-common scenario is in the early stages of a Major freeze-out tournament.  To really feel the heat on this one, let's define "Major" as "The WSOP Main Event."  Let's say we all have just around the starting stack and some maniacs raise, 3bet, shove preflop, and cold-call even before it gets to me.  Don't ask me why they do this - maybe they are all drunken oil tycoons.

I look down at Aces.

Time to do some math.

The first maniac opens about 40% of his range.  I have about 85% equity against his range.  The second maniac isolates with any pocket pair.  I have 80% on him.  The third guy enters any pot "that has lots of chips" with any two cards.  85% on him as well.  The cold-caller has suited-connectors and thinks his hand is live because "everyone has Ace-King" - I've got just under 80% on this optimistic sonofabitch.

I am crushing all their ranges.  I am going to quintuple up!

Except going up against all four of them reduces my chances to about 48%.  I am still the most likely to win the hand among the five of us, but more than half the time, my tournament is over.

Question:  Does flipping to chip up to 150,000 in Level 1 justify being out of the tourney 52% of the time?  I am the favorite to win the hand, but a dog to stay in the tournament.  To put this in perspective, let's say the average stack come Final Table would be somewhere in the area of 10 to 15 million.  How much does my 150,000 help me get there?

I am not enough of a math geek to know what ICM algorithms to apply in order to determine the $EV of chipping up to 150k in one hand versus being out of the tourney 52% of the time.  I just intuitively don't feel good about it.  Not after a $10,000 buyin, a transatlantic flight, and a world of anxiety.

Add another caller to that mix - some fool with a range of broadways and pairs - and my Aces are now 37% to win the hand.  63% of the time I am out of the tourney, 37% of the time I will have 180,000 in chips.  Is this worth it?

In a cash game, my risk-reward ratios are so much simpler.  Just the money I have to put in versus the money I stand to win.  Ten thousand bucks to win Fifty thousand?  My my, the pot is laying me 5 to 1.  Meanwhile I am barely a 2 to 1 dog to take it all down.  Easy call.

In a tournament, my ten-thousand dollar buyin is at risk.  And the reward?  Absolutely unknown - somewhere between a sort-of-shoo-in to day 2, and a slightly (who knows how slight?) better chance to finish ITM in a few days.

Would you make the call?

I can hear players all over saying the same thing:  "If you can't make that call, you probably shouldn't be playing the tournament to begin with."

I am not sure I can disagree there.

"So which do you prefer?" is a common follow-up question.

Cash Games.  It should be obvious by now, but I try spell it out anyway:  "I prefer an activity that gives me more than one shot at success.  I prefer an activity where mistakes can be made and not everything is on the line in one go.  I prefer playing one hand at a time if I may.  And most importantly, I prefer not to play scared."

Yes, I confess, tournaments fill me with dread.