4-of-a-Kind
Join Date: Aug 2007
Posts: 3,068
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Rubbin' is Racin'
Part III in an inspirational series about poker.
Bristol Motor Speedway is legendary for intense, bump 'n' bang, put-em-in-the-wall races. The Bristol "racin' stripe" is a round, black wheel mark on the side of your car, earned by "nudging" an opponent at 120 mph. The top 5 finishers at tracks like Charlotte often finish in a car still shiny and new. Hardly any of the top 5 Bristol cars have all the sheet metal they started with.
There's a scene in "Days of Thunder" where racer Colt Trickle (Tom Cruise) gets angry at rough track treatment. His crew chief (Robert Duvall) has this to say:
Quote:
Harry: Cole, you're wondering all over the track.
Cole: Yeah, well the son of a bitch just slammed into me!
Harry: No he didn't slam into you, he didn't bump you, he didn't nudge you. He rubbed you. And rubbin', son, is racin'.
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Dents, scars, bruises and abrasions. Wrecks, cussin', swearin', and fights in the pits after the race. Rubbin' is racin' at NASCAR's short tracks. And the winner at Bristol is often the guy smart and lucky enough to have avoided all the big wrecks. Kind of like poker.
I love this game.
Here are some lessons I've learned about poker thanks to my dad's fanatical following of NASCAR.
1. Qualifying matters.
Racers and teams get a few practice laps, then they qualify. The fastest times start at the front. But at a track like Bristol, that also means excellent early track position to help keep free of the big wrecks and priority pit selection - having to pit on the backstretch is a huge handicap. These advantages are worth fighting for. And the best teams plan, tinker and adjust so they're ready to grab them.
How do you get into the poker race? I used to sit down, open up the poker software and jump into the first few games I could find a seat in. I was playing in seconds. Kinda like racin' in a car that hasn't even been set up for the track. I often pushed too hard, too early, and paid with a wrecked stack. Even if I only dented my stack, it still took me 10 mintues to "settle in" and begin playing good poker. These days, I get PT/HUD up and running, table select carefully, and get on half a dozen wait lists. Get the streaming audio rockin', grab a coke. I glance at the regs in the games and think about what track position I'd like to have on them. I get my mind right, thinking about the style of poker I'll be playing.
2. Top racers think long run.
The best drivers know that having a bad car early in a race is only a small problem. There'll be plenty of pit stops to tweak the setup, make adjustments. They don't get too worried about going a lap down if they have a good car. They know there's plenty of time to get back up front. I drive every day on HW9 between Dahlonega and Dawsonville, the road "Awesome Bill from Dawsonville" made famous with his #9 race car. He came from two laps down at Talladega to win, on his way to becoming the first driver to win the Winston Million, a prop bet earned by wining legendary races at historic tracks in one season. Great racers always seem to be there in the final laps. They've made adjustments, worked hard, and fought through the rough-housing tactics of the pack. They don't give up - ever. They get that lap back, fix the car, and go for the win.
I play premium hands only for a few orbits as I get my tables positioned and wait for my HUD to get current. Just ABC poker. I don't get too high about early wins or losses. And I don't get uptight even when someone outplays me for half a stack. I make a note and move on. I am learning to wait for poker opportunities, get my lap back, get my car adjusted exactly right for when the racin' really matters.
3. Rubbin' is racin', and racers are ruthless.
There's a cruel fact of short-track NASCAR life: the guy in the lead is vulnerable. The guy in second drives into the turn too fast and bumps the leader. The force of the "wreck" does two things. First, it knocks the leader's car loose, making him ease off the gas and slide up the track. Second, it slows down the guy in second just enough to corner at race speed. The bump opens the door for the second place car to drive on by, and often sends the would-be winner crashing into the wall cursin', spittin', fumin' and ready to fight.
Often, the best position at the poker table is one that seems vulnerable. When an almost-good player gets the best of it against me in a couple of hands, I smile. The easiest way for me to take his stack is if he thinks I'm one of the fish. Hopefully, he'll type chat something like "nh donk" when I'm chasing some implied odds and check down with crap. I stay out of trouble and fight for track position, so when it matters I can give him the Daryl Waltrip "beep beep" treatment. He'll be cursin' and cryin' in a hunk of shredded sheet metal while I take the checkered flag - and all his chips.
Rubbin' is racin'.
Let's go win some money playin' poker.
Robb
The author is a poker enthusiast, not a poker expert. And is probably full of crap.
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