In the interests of this column I have been playing Rush Poker at Full Tilt. Or, as I think it should be called, Quick Fold Poker, because that’s what you do most of the time, isn’t it? Unlike most other poker junkies I have to say I am ambivalent about Quick Fold Poker. On the one hand, yes, it’s great, you get a billion hands per hour so, yeah, fantastic, you’re never out of action. But then again, what’s so great about constantly being in action? I mean, is this what online poker is coming to? It’s only good if the gap between poker decisions is 0.00001 of a nano-second?
The illusion of action is created by the speed in which you get another hand, but ironically this merely encourages folding, I think. I guess if you’re a real maniac then you might play every hand dealt to you in Quick Fold Poker, but it won’t take long to discover that the only time you get action is when somebody else has a real hand. Besides, aren’t the real action players all multi-tabling heads-up Pot Limit Omaha and No Limit Hold’em anyway? In those games they and their opponents are forced to play – you can’t just wait for the Boots heads-up, can you? Which is something you can definitely do when playing Quick Fold Poker. In fact, I would say that one is positively encouraged to play that way on Quick Fold Poker.
Texas Fold’em
I am concerned that players will actually learn to fold. Why call a raise in the small blind with ace-rag when you can just quickly fold and get on with the next hand? Let’s face it; Quick Fold Poker is going to teach the Charlie Chuckaways to play better. They are finally going to experience a huge sample size as it actually occurs and it may well teach them certain hands in certain positions are simply unprofitable. Then again, perhaps I am underestimating the human capacity for boredom – after folding 12 hands in a row on Quick Fold Poker (what’s that, about 20 seconds?) that Q-9 sooooted under the gun looks very playable.
What’s funny is that some boffin at Full Tilt came up with Quick Fold Poker no doubt as a clever way to generate more rake for the site, but in the end it may backfire on them as everybody learns to just fold and fold and fold and fold unless they have aces. Ultimately the only coups you will see on Quick Fold Poker will be aces versus aces. Ok, I’m exaggerating, but already in the short time that I have played Quick Fold Poker I have experienced many more walks in the big blind than usual.
A Nit’s Paradise
Basically, Quick Fold Poker is a nit’s paradise. No doubt there are already plenty of tighties multi-tabling Quick Fold Poker games literally only playing aces and kings. Why not? Now Full Tilt has made that scenario even more possible. It’s even better if you have some kind of rakeback deal. No need to get creative and actually play poker, god forbid. I think the action addicts who try Quick Fold Poker will get bored pretty quickly.
Already I have thrown away hands in the cut-off and hijack that normally I would have waited to see if anyone limps or raises before me, i.e. connectors like J-9 suited that I might fancy raising in late position with, especially if I know that the big blind or the limper is a weak player and so on. But on Quick Fold Poker I just can’t be bothered to wait for the two seconds it’s taking for the other mopes in front of me to fold so I just click my mouse to get to the next hand. Besides, I have no idea who the other players are or their tendencies anyway, so any creative thoughts I may have are pointless.
I realise I’m not exactly preaching to the choir here, but part of what I like about playing poker is the downtime between hands, where you can reflect on the previous coups and observe your opponents et cetera. Or, in my case, just mong out if I’m playing live, or surf the net if I’m playing online. Also known as relaxing, which is one of the reasons I like to play poker in the first place (all right, I know when you’re playing for the rent and all that it’s not necessarily such a stress-free pastime).
Also, because you never see what happens after you have folded, the donkeys might come to realise that it’s not the results that matter, but the decisions that counts. Nothing better than some chump going on tilt because he folded only to see that his two-outer hit.
Crack
Some other writers have made the observation that Quick Fold Poker is the crack cocaine of gambling, but I have to disagree; that honour will always belong to the dice. Shooting craps is far more addictive and exciting than having the convenience of insta-folding and being insta-dealt another hand. Just ask Phil Ivey, I’m sure he would agree with me.
I guess it’s not surprising that I am not particularly enamoured with Quick Fold Poker; considering that I secretly think that anything that isn’t a live cash game isn’t ‘real’ poker anyway, Quick Fold Poker was never going to have much of a chance with me was it? Ultimately it’s here to stay and I’m sure it won’t be long before we hear about the first Quick Fold Poker millionaire who starts off at the .05/.10 tables and works their way up to skinning Ivey and durrrr and Antonius simultaneously. He (or she) will no doubt credit their success to the Quick Fold Poker tables as they were able to experience every type of poker situation possible in just a month and thus play near perfect poker. Or something like that...
A Nod’s as Good as a Wink to a Blind Horse
Here’s something that could never have happened at the Quick Fold Poker tables. As usual it’s the $2/5 No Limit Hold’em game at the Vic and there is a possible flush on the board at the river. Player A bets £200, player B calls and now player C raises all-in for £900. What is important to note here is that player C was drunk. Not falling down drunk, but he had definitely had a few. Probably enough so that if you accused him of being drunk he would have strenuously denied it.
Naturally these beverages that player C had imbibed had slightly altered his personality and the way he was playing poker. Let it be noted that player C is a young guy, usually pretty quiet with a solid style of play. His inebriated state didn’t mean he had turned into a super-aggro LAG, but he was certainly playing a few more pots than usual, as well as being much more vocal.
So, back to the hand and the action is back onto player A, a strong player and veteran of the Vic. He calls. The action is now on player B who happens to be a friend of player C. Player B now goes into the tank and starts to dwell up, “Wow, have we all got a flush?” he says.
Suddenly, another player who is not in the hand, but is sitting on player C’s right, interrupts the hand to tell the dealer that player C is nodding to player B, indicating that player B should not call. Ruling!!!
Quick, Fold?
Even though I was actually at the table, I did not see any of this, so the only opinion I can offer is that my experience of players C and B is that they don’t strike me as the types who would be cheats, but you never can tell. Player C did admit to nodding his head, but claimed that he wasn’t cheating; in fact it was misdirection to confuse player B into calling. Player B said he never saw his friend gesturing, which appeared to be true. If you were the floor, what the hell would you do to sort out this mess, eh?
Caroline came over and ruled that the hand should carry on (which I’m not so sure is correct) so player B folded and now player C turned over the nut flush to win a quite a large pot. Naturally player A kicked up a fuss over this (can’t really blame him, can you?), but all Caroline could say was that player C was not allowed to play anymore that night.
Unsurprisingly, an awkward atmosphere prevailed and what had been quite a good game lapsed into silence and a bunch of folding. Player C continued to protest his innocence and you could tell he was wrestling with the dilemma of whether or not to give back player A the last raise (£700).
Finally, and reluctantly, player C offered player A the neves (that’s £700 for all you lot that don’t understand the slang for different numbers) who unsurprisingly accepted. Player C then asked if it would be all right now if he could rejoin the game, but player A told him to forget it, a mistake had been made and he should just go home. Frankly, he was lucky to have been allowed the pot and not barred for a few weeks (or forever) was the subtext of player A’s wise advice. As I left the cardroom that night, player C was up at the desk, bending the ears of the staff about the incident. He’s probably still going on about it now.
As you can imagine this whole palaver took ages to sort out – at least 15 minutes, which by my reckoning I could have gotten in about 5,000 hands of Quick Fold Poker. Cor, no wonder everybody is switching over to the Internet.