On Luck: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Variance

Variance is a bitch.

Or is it?

Isn't the principle of aggressive play that you're increasing your risk for a chance at a larger reward? Isn't that what you want -- to win the most over time in exchange for some swings when you try to push a small edge?

The point of value betting is that there's a likelihood of getting called by a lesser hand against your marginal hand. Over time, those small percentage points add up to profits.

The problem is that suckouts happen. Sometimes those small advantages are easily overcome. And for some reason, it seems like these facials tend to come all at once, turning a mediocre session into a disaster.

Variance seems like a terrible cross for the good poker player to bear. It feels like an unfair consequence of a fundamentally fair game.

A more mature approach would be to embrace variance. Variance is what gives fish hope. If fish never won, they wouldn't play the game. They wouldn't keep coming back for more even after they've lost more than they won. We want to feed the fish for the slaughter.

Gutshots, backdoor draws, unlikely two pairs on the river, hitting Ax heads-up on the end vs. top pair ... these are the kinds of beats that fish thrive on.

The important thing to remember is that your top pair, top kicker will hold up more over the long run than their longshot draw. A fundamental concept of poker is that better hands are less probable than more likely hands -- a single pair is more common and will hold up much more often than not against a flush draw.

The contradiction of poker psychology is to learn to love luck and variance when it isn't with you. In fact, most of the time, fish benefit from luck more than a good player ever will. Luck is a byproduct of opportunity; when fish play more hands than they should, they also create more opportunities to make a longshot draw.

Fortunately, fish pay a steep price on these opportunities. Winning players come out on top because they know and respect the odds. Good players only invest money in a pot if the reward is greater than the risk -- that is to say, if the situation has a positive expected value (EV).

Against fish, there are only two ways a good player can lose over the long run: by going on tilt or playing above their bankroll. Otherwise, time will cure all ills and fatten all wallets.

Link:
An article about being a prop