What happened to you, Bill Simmons?

I know that it's football season, and both Ron and I are very far behind in our fantasy previews. But I really couldn't let this horrible piece of journalism slide. This may have been the worst article I have ever read.

I have long been awaiting an explanation to Bill Simmons' flameout early in the main event of the World Series of Poker. I was eager for an explanation not because I was awaiting an interesting column, but instead because I was eager to see how whiny and bitchy Simmons would be on a subject matter I figured he knew little about. Needless to say, this column was terrible beyond my wildest dreams.

Before I tear this thing apart Fire Joe Morgan style, I should probably mention that I'm not the type of person who identifies himself against the mainstream media outlets. So many bloggers that I read seem to take pride in ripping ESPN and national columnists apart. Frankly, that's not my whole outlook on the blog/mainstream media debate. However, since I started this blog, I have completely soured on Simmons' writing ability. Before I entered the blogosphere, I viewed Simmons as royalty. Soon, however, I started to realize that Simmons' was merely another talking head. It all started with the Theo Epstein saga. Upon reading a claim that the Red Sox had a "Orwellian media conglomerate in which they control all the information in the city's most important newspaper, as well as the TV and radio stations that carry the games," I wondered if it could be true. I went to my journalism professor, showed her the column (which, coincidentaly, she had actually read herself), and wondered aloud whether Simmons was just another talking head, a la Jay Marrioti or Bill Plashke. After speaking to my professor and writing a beat journal (where we analyze the journalistic quality of what reporters/columnists of a certain beat are writing), I came to the realization that he was simply another talking head.

Even after this realization, I continued to read Simmons, simply because I knew that there was so much writing talent there. Gradually, however, the quality of his columns went downhill. There are a variety of theories and explanations. Some say that his columns haven't been as good since he interned for Jimmy Kimmel. Others say that the corporate nature of ESPN has bothered Simmons. Still others say that he lost his bite as soon as the Red Sox won the World Series. Regardless, Simmons has morphed into the Brett Favre (the current version) of the sportswriting world. Like Favre, he can still win your mind with the occasional fantastic column, but most of the time, his writing is so mediocre that you wonder why ESPN hasn't replaced him with someone that can do his job more effectively. Had you told me that a site like Awful Announcing could be as popular as it is because of it's critiques of Simmons' columns a year ago, I would have been shocked. Now, I wonder why there aren't more sites like that out there.

I've saved all my frustrations for Simmons' writing to others. But after this column on the World Series of Poker, a topic right up my alley, I could not restrain myself any more.

Better to Be Lucky Than Good

I believed Mike McD for eight years. "People insist on calling it luck," he kept saying sarcastically. Sure. We all knew better.

MP: Actually, it was just you.

If poker was about luck, as Mike says, the same guys wouldn't be sitting at the final table of the World Series every year, right? Poker was about skill and intuition. Poker was about reading opponents like a police detective, outplaying and outwitting them, always remaining ahead. Poker was about shifting gears, changing betting patterns, appearing meek one minute and pouncing like a panther the next. Poker was about an accumulated series of gambling experiences, good and bad, that mold you into a real player. You didn't lose because you were unlucky; you lost because you were outplayed. Big difference. That was poker.

MP: Cue the inspirational music!

Actually, there are so many things that are wrong about this. I loved Rounders. It was a fantastic movie. Matt Damon and Ed Norton were fantastic as Mike McDermott and Worm. But even I understood that poker does not work like it does in Rounders. Rounders makes it seem that the only elements that matter in poker are the ones that you can control. Unfortunately, that just isn't the case. All these things that Simmons mentiones in this last paragraph are important. All are elements that good poker players have. But poker is not a game that you have complete control over. Luck plays a huge role. To win a poker tournament, you have to be a very good player, but you also have to get very lucky.

In the movie, the one scene that exemplifies the elements Simmons describes is the scene where Mike is watching the 1988 World Series. You know, the scene where Johnny Chan traps Erik Seidel to win his second straight main event? Simmons probably believes that this is the ultimate skillful moment of the movie. However, what Simmons fails to realize is this. CHAN'S PLAY DOESN'T WORK UNLESS HE GETS LUCKY TO FLOP THE STRAIGHT!! The odds of flopping a straight with 2 connecting hole cards is 78:1. The odds of doing it at the same time your opponent ALSO flops a big hand? Even more rare. Chan won all Seidel's chips that hand BOTH because he flopped the straight and played the hand so well. Both had to happen for Chan to win that hand.

Poker is not about skill. Poker is not about luck. Poker is about the combination of skill and luck. The best players are the ones that manage luck the best. The best players put themselves in as few situations as possible where being unlucky cripples them. That's why they are the best.

We're barely two paragraphs in and I can't stop talking. Let's continue.

Or so I thought.

You know what poker is really about? Luck.

MP: We've already gone over why this is statement is wrong. But beyond that, this statement is terrible. I've only taken one semester of journalism, but even I know that relying on generalizations in an article is a cardinal sin. It shows that you haven't done your research. Of course, Simmons would be nowhere if he didn't have his generalizations that sounds good and snazzy.

I found this out the hard way in Vegas, on the heels of my abrupt departure from the Main Event at the WSOP. I played a hand perfectly and somehow lost a $20,000 pot. That was it.

MP: Obviously, Simmons, you're the ONLY person to ever suffer a bad beat in poker. Why don't you cry and whine about how the world is out to get you? I mean, Greg Raymer had a chance to become the chip leader with 25 people left in the main even last year, got all his money in with pocket kings against Aaron Kanter's Queen high, and lost to a runner-runner flush. He played a hand perfectly and somehow lost a $3 million pot. Then again, he's not Bill Simmons, the great ESPN Sportswriter. He obviously did something wrong...

I was done in two hours. Over the next 10 days, almost 9,000 other players were knocked out -- some for the right reasons, some for the wrong ones. At the final table, no famous pros were left sitting. A former Hollywood agent won the whole thing. Twelve million bucks. Nobody was even surprised.

MP: Okay, it's going to very hard to consolidate everything that's wrong with this paragraph. But I'm going to try.

Almost 9,000 other players were knocked out -- some for the right reasons, some for the wrong ones.

MP: What does this even mean? Some for the right reasons, some for the wrong ones? How long will it take for Simmons to understand that poker isn't like baseball? People get knocked out if their hand is not as good as their opponents hand after all 7 cards are on the table. Just because someone got knocked out because they were unlucky doesn't mean they got knocked out for the wrong reason. I'm assuming that most other players, unlike Simmons, realized that luck plays a role in every hand, and that they can lose and be unlucky. These other players also realize that, somewhere along the way, they missed an opportunity to profit and build their chip stack somewhere along the way; and that misstep put them in the position that eventually knocked them out. But Simmons doesn't understand that. To him, if he got unlucky on one hand, it automatically means he got screwed. But poker doesn't work like that. Even with luck, you always make mistakes that end up costing you.

At the final table, no famous pros were left sitting.

MP: I mean, the fourth place finisher, Allen Cunningham, isn't really much of a pro. I mean, he's only won 4 World Series Bracelets, the 2005 Toyota Player of the Year, and 4 and a half million dollars in tournament poker PRIOR to his fourth place finish. He only was the youngest-ever bracelet winner when he won his first World Series of Poker bracelet in 2001 (the record has since been broken). He only has nearly 100 cashes and exactly 12 big tournament victories before the age of 30. Fellow famous pros Daniel Negreanu, Phil Ivey, and John Juanda say he's only better than all of them, even though they're arguably three of the 10 best poker players in the world. In a previous post, we only rated him as the second-best poker player in the world.

Yeah, Cunningham isn't really a famous pro.

A former Hollywood agent won the whole thing. Twelve million bucks. Nobody was even surprised.

MP: I mean, this former Hollywood agent (SPOILER ALERT), Jamie Gold, did win 12 million dollars. That was true. And it is true that nobody was really surprised in the end. Nobody was really surprised because he was the overwhelming chip leader since Day 4, has a fairly solid poker resume, with 14 prior cashes in limited tournament play, and had Johnny Chan the master as his poker coach. He clearly was a deserving champion.

Also, did Simmons actually ask anyone if they were surprised? If not, how can he make that statement? Simple answer: he can't. But he still did anyway.

See, everyone thinks they know how to play now.

MP: Including Bill Simmons...

Before Mike McD broke onto the scene, Hold'em was an underground game, the forbidden door most gamblers were afraid to open. But repeated cable showings of "Rounders" inspired a new breed of casual players like myself to give the game a try. ESPN popularized the pocket cam and made the game easier to understand. The Internet boom allowed shut-ins to hone their skill, cresting when no-name qualifier Chris Moneymaker won 2003's Main Event. Websites and satellites even made it possible to qualify for the World Series without fronting the 10 grand. Poker shows popped up like pimples. Stars were made of pros like Phil Hellmuth and Phil Ivey, and celebrity junkies like Tobey Maguire and Ben Affleck gave the game a little extra juice. Just like that, poker was a billion-dollar industry, the one "sport" that gave everyone a chance.

MP: A bit simplistic, but for the most part, he's actually right. Probably the one thing he did well.

Like NASCAR, wrestling and porn, poker has become its own subuniverse. This summer's Gaming Life Expo featured rows and rows of booths: for countless websites (even Anna Benson has one), start-up magazines and self-published books, for an autograph from your favorite player, for poker-related apparel and merchandise (if you've always wanted a polyester shirt with face cards sewn on the front, this is the place to find it). Skanky models were everywhere handing out free stuff, prompting my buddy Hopper to crack, "What time are they due back at Cheetahs?" The place makes a Star Wars convention look hip. At one point, my friends and I were staring in shock at a booth that featured giant oil paintings of various pros. What amazed us wasn't that these paintings existed, or that they cost $300 apiece, but that someone was purchasing one of Johnny Chan. Like at the porn expo, you see things at the poker expo you can never unsee.

MP: All of these things are there because people like BILL SIMMONS contribute to the craze. Simmons writes as if this is a terrible tragedy, yet he fails to realize that he himself is wrapped up in it. Nobody but himself made the decision to go and play in the World Series of Poker. He did so as a pipe dream; as a soul without any handle on reality. Now he comes back, fresh off a bad experience, and suddenly, he's talking about how this is such a tragedy?

This is why there hasn't been a "Rounders" sequel. Mike McD wouldn't be an underdog anymore. He'd be a minicorporation, a hero to Internet poker nerds, with a $300 portrait of himself, a fleet of agents and PR people, a couple of sponsors, a gigantic ego, a best-selling book and a popular website, maybe even a minimansion outside of Vegas with a driveway that looks like a giant poker chip. He'd be worth 10 million. Easy.

MP: I'm sorry to break it to Simmons, but the last thing we ever needed was a Rounders sequel. Even if the poker boom never occured, a sequel would never have worked because of the simple fact that, with a few exceptions, sequels tend to be huge letdowns that are significantly worse than the originals.

Also, this characterization would have happened even if there was no poker boom. Maybe there wouldn't be a best-selling book or a popular website, but if we start the story where we left off, Mike McD would be a big star. Let's assume we start the second movie in Las Vegas, after he's made a big splash. As a young gun of poker, he'd still be sought-after. Young poker stars got instant fame in the poker world even before the big poker boom. It's only now that poker has become mainstream that people like Simmons notice.

The other option is to start the movie once Mike McD gets to Vegas. If that was the case, he'd be an underdog story even with the current circumstances. The movie could be about how he becomes so famous and his journey when he deals with fame. That could still be extremely compelling.

You know what else? He'd be bummed out. This year's Main Event featured so many players, they had to split Day 1 over four days. Thanks to the waves of qualifiers who didn't have to front 10 grand, a different style of play emerged: overaggressive, cocksure, reckless. Winning the tournament isn't a realistic dream, but wiping out a famous pro and having a memorable war story for your buddies … now that's realistic. Pros were getting bounced left and right. Everyone was gunning for them, all-in calls be damned. I mean, how can this be an accurate representation of skill? If you enter a major chess tournament, no matter how much you'd practiced, you'd get wiped out. Same for the Golden Gloves, a PGA tournament, PBA, you name it. But everyone has a chance in the WSOP. On the bright side, anyone can win. On the flip side, you can say the same about keno.

MP: All stuff that you should have seen coming, you idiot. Instead, you chose to believe the poker utopia that is Rounders. That's your fault, Simmons.

Also, although it doesn't fit here, let me dispel a popular notion. The recent winners of the main event can all play. With the exception of Chris Moneymaker, who never devoted enough time to poker, all of the winners and many members of the final table have had sustained success. So many people predicted Greg Raymer would crash and burn, but he has cashed 9 times since winning the main event. One of those 9 cashes came the very next year, in the 2005 main event. 2004 second and third place finishers David Williams and Josh Arieh used their 2004 run to kickstart their poker careers. Two years later, they are two of the best young players in the game. 2005 main event winner Joseph Hachem has been even more successful than Raymer. In just one year, Hachem already has 8 additional cashes. He could have very easily won the Rio circut event if his pocket kings weren't cracked by Kido Pham's Jack 10 offsuit. He also went deep this year in the main event, losing when his pocket aces were cracked by Ace Queen. I would assume Jamie Gold will have similar success after his 2006 win.

I will say this: The World Series brought the best poker out of me. You feel the tension from the beginning, as you greet everyone at the table, as the dealer shuffles the cards, as you stare at $10,000 worth of chips and realize they're yours. Every time a yellow $1,000 chip moves, you can almost hear the blood swishing in everyone's veins. It's palpable. It's incredible.

MP: Cue the inspirational music again!

Even two weeks later, I remember every nuance -- what everyone was wearing, all their faces, how my chips were stacked, everything. I chugged along for two hours, winning one big hand and battling a steady stream of lousy cards. Meanwhile, a wild Internet qualifier was calling everybody, trash-talking, even showing his bluffs after he won. He reminded me of a football QB who keeps throwing deep; eventually, you switch to zone and start to pick off his passes. Basically, he was Jeff George.

MP: How do you BATTLE a steady stream of lousy cards? You don't line up your patented 3-4 defense to stop the cards, do you?

And I wanted to pick him off. Holding K-10 suited, I called his $550 bet along with two others.

MP: Okay, hold on a second. Simmons, you didn't play the hand perfectly. In fact, it was YOU who ended up getting lucky. If you want to pick off a loose player that is playing every pot, you don't do it with a hand as marginal as king 10 suited. King 10 is probably the most overrated hand in poker. Pre-flop, you're more likely to be dominated than you are to be even money. The best you can really hope for is that your opponent is playing either a small pair or something like Ace-rag. Once the flop comes, you're really in trouble. If the flop comes King high, you may think your hand is good, but so many hands have you beat. Your opponent could easily have Ace-King, King-Queen, and even King-Jack. All of those hands beat you. If the flop is something like King rag rag, your opponent could even have King-rag if he's in late position. That hand could even beat you. If the flop comes 10 high, you also seem to be sitting pretty, but if your opponent has pocket jacks, queens, kings, or aces, or even Ace-10, you're beat. You pretty much have to hope to either flop 2 pair or a flush/flush draw. And with 3 others also in the pot, even that's not much of a guarantee. King 10 is a really bad hand heads-up, but it's an even worse hand 4 handed.

Also, there's no mention of what position everyone was in. From the looks of it, the loose player was raising in very early position. He may be loose, but he's not so dumb to raise with a bad hand in early position. Even if he's a loose cannon, the worst hand that Simmons can really put him on at this point is something like Ace-Jack or a small pair. Both hands that have King-10 beat.

The flop? K-10-6.

MP: Hey guess what! Simmons, you got lucky! But don't mention this, because you clearly played the hand perfectly.

First guy called.

MP: Huh? Who's bet?

Jeff came barreling in for another $1,200. Third guy folded. And I knew four things: First, I had the best hand (nobody had trips, I could tell from the body language).

MP: How, pray tell, could you tell from their body language? I need more details here.

Second, I needed to steal that $3,400 in the middle. Third, having played one big hand in two hours, everyone would know I meant business with an all-in wager.

MP: If you have two pair, and you've made the read that you have the best hand, why are you trying to "steal" that $3,400 in the middle? While you're trying to steal that money, the best players are figuring out how to make the most money. And if you're playing off a tight reputation, why go all-in there? If you know you have the best hand, and you know you have a dominating hand, and you've played only one pot in two hours, it certainly seems suspicious if you move all-in there. Clearly, you have the goods.

And fourth, with 20 grand in chips, Jeff George might be dumb enough to call me. Which he was. And you know what this nitwit had? A-K.

MP: Wow! What a terrible play! He had Simmons dominated before the flop and got unlucky! I mean, who would ever play Ace-King? Idiot!

But on a more serious note, here's the problem with Simmons' play. The only hands that he's ever going to get called with on a play like that are Ace King or trips. Essentially, the only hand he'll ever get called with that he has beat is Ace-King. He got lucky that Ace-King is exactly what his opponent hand. If you simply make a regular raise (to, say, 5,000) instead of moving all-in, you get a better idea of where you are in the hand. If he calls, for example, you can then move in on the turn and he'll likely fold his hand. If Simmons does this instead, he wins the pot, builds his stack to around 30,000, and becomes a player. Instead, he put himself in the position where he could potentially get unlucky.

That's what separates the pros from the wannabees. The pros understand that the odds show that you cannot keep avoiding bad luck in showdowns, so they do their best to avoid those types of situations. The wannabees figure that luck is constant, so they keep trying to get to showdown with the best hand, figuring it will always hold up. The problem is that it doesn't. Luck is not constant. That's why you see so many players come home with bad beat stories.

With the odds now significantly in my favor (84.3 percent), I was two favorable cards from taking control of the table. Even in that brief instant -- couldn't have been more than eight to 10 seconds -- I was dreaming about lasting the day, building a nest egg, getting lucky a few more times, maybe even making it through the week …Then, BOOM! It was over. The dealer turned over consecutive queens, improbably giving us both K-Q pairs, but with an ace kicker against me.

MP: Waaa! Bad Beat! Waaaaaaa!

The rest was a hazy blur: watching Jeff celebrate in disbelief … muttering, "Wait, did I just lose?" … hearing the jerk next to me say, "You're done" … debating whether to punch the jerk, then deciding against it … eventually stumbling away like Bill Buckner at Shea. I wandered aimlessly through the Rio, legitimately in shock, replaying the hand again and again. I couldn't get over it. Within an hour, I was renting a car and fleeing Vegas like it was a crime scene. I had to get out of there.

MP: Awwww...poor Bill Simmons...

It's one thing to get outplayed. It's another to lose to a reckless idiot. But that's poker in the 21st century: You need to be lucky. Period. I know Mike McD disagrees, but only because he's trapped in a suddenly dated movie.

MP: I've said it already. That's not poker in the 21st century. That's poker in general. You've always needed to be both good and lucky to win a tournament. The only difference is now you have to be both really, really, really good AND really, really, really lucky. It's only a matter of degrees.

Make the sequel already.

MP: So Simmons can repeat this very same column all over again using the Bill Simmons article generator and continue to become the Brett Favre of sportswriting; the annoying talking head that is now the type of columnist he used to hate. Make the sequel so Simmons can keep sinking down deeper into the abyss, if that's even possible. At least that terrible column won't be much of a surprise.