Betfair Official Blog

The More You Know, the Less You Know

If you're still thinking about what you're doing, you're probably spending too much time thinking and not enough time doing. So suggests Matt Broughton...

I've mentioned many times my desire to get out and play more live poker, but setting off at the crack of dawn on a rainy Saturday morning to make a 2pm kick off in Birmingham is a stark reminder of why sitting at home in your Incredible Hulk underpants eating cheesy balls and multi-tabling at a level well above your bankroll is such a popular pursuit. And no, none of that sentence is euphemistic code for some twisted sexual pursuit. You sickos.

Anyway, I did make the tourney in time, played for twelve hours and managed to finish 55th out of 206; walking away with nothing but a slow hand clap and that familiar hollow feeling inside. Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about was a strange event that occurred while I was driving up to the game. But first, a wild tangent:

Doing the whole 'Expert' thing regularly on TV tends to lead to the development of standard replies to emails, generic tips that are of the little/no use variety taken out of context, and a general poker blah blah blah noise on demand. One of the things we often talk about when people are clearly trying a little too hard is about letting your skills develop naturally.

If I throw a pen at you, you'll catch it (and then probably use it to push my eyes into my skull, shouting "Why did you throw that pen at me!") The amazing thing is that you probably caught the pen with ease regardless of where I threw it (unless it was out of a train window, which would have been a waste of a good pen but at least ensures you won't do anything to my eyes with it). Anyway, the point is that you weren't born with the ability to catch pens. I know this for a fact, not because I had lots of pens thrown at me as a child, but because I went round Mothercare lobbing Bics at toddlers before writing this piece. I doubt I'll be invited back any time soon. Lucky I don't have kids, eh.

Anyway, the point (as I so often seem to have to start my sentences with) is that you are doing some AMAZING calculations as the pen hurtles towards your fisog - MILLIONS of calculations in fact. Add a cross wind and you're practically the Tiger Woods of the pen-catching world.

However, returning to my Birmingham drive story (I know - it seems like hours ago that I mentioned that doesn't it) I'm cruising along when I suddenly find I'm easing off the accelerator and dropping right back from the car in front. I have no idea why I've just done this and don't remember making any conscious decision to do so. However, while I'm busy noticing that my body is doing things without consulting its owner, the car in front swerves and then brakes suddenly. How spooky!

Had I not eased back I would now be dead (possibly) or at least seriously inconvenienced, but was fine thanks to the gap I had created between myself and this loon when he wigged out. So... what happened? Well, on reflection, I realised that I had had one of those 'unconscious competence' moments we refer to all the time when we talk about abilities developing.

As I thought back I twigged a couple of things that my subconscious had been paying far more attention to than I was even aware of. 1) The car in front was a Porsche and we were in the middle lane doing a mere 77mph. People with small penises do NOT buy Porsches to sit in middle lanes observing national speed limits. 2) Through his tiny rear window I'd clocked the silhouette of a person sitting dead central in the car. Now this is not naturally where you find the steering wheel, accelerator, or indeed any of the instruments required for driving a car. Indeed, where he appeared to be sitting guaranteed nothing less than full anal penetration by a gear stick. I could only surmise that the car was an automatic, or the driver was a sick individual who enjoyed bottom sex with automobile parts.

All of this information had been registered unconsciously by 'Brain of Matt' processed, analysed, and sent to an inbox in the depths of my mind marked "things that seem strange and to be avoided". Hence the mystery deceleration and general avoidance of said Porsche-owning clown. I can only guess that he was digging for something in his glove compartment or doing some light maintenance on his overly-expensive car stereo.

As I've been driving almost every day for nearly twenty years I guess it's no real surprise to find that I hardly think about what I'm doing any more - while still not dieing on a regular basis. It's the same story with the pen catching (without the bit about dieing). And thus it is with poker (again, minus the mention of death). The more you play the more those things you once had to think about become automated responses. When a player makes a move against you that 'feels' wrong then you've probably started to reach the equivalent stage in poker that means you are no longer thinking so hard that you can barely operate.

I don't have a natural instinct to catch pens any more than I have a natural instinct to avoid check-raise traps from the guy that flat called with a pocket pair and flopped trips. These things take time to develop, so prepare for a long journey.

Do enjoy the ride though, and be sure to buckle up - it can get bumpy out there.

• Poker