Jan. 10, 2004

If I've heard the cliché once, -- poker is a metaphor for life -- I know I've heard or read it more than 50 times. I've rebutted the cliché at least a half dozen times in articles or columns.

I've knocked it in the past because I didn't believe it to be true. I still don't, actually, but I'm backing off the extreme attitude, admitting that it could be true in special cases.

Poker is about aggression, lying, cut-throat competition and getting the best of your opponent, whether it's your wife, brother, closest friend, associate or mortal enemy, without remorse and with no compunction.

Does this sound like a metaphor for Mother Theresa's life? For the Pope's life? For the Dali Lama's life?

I don't think so.

Does it sound like a metaphor for Jeffrey Skilling's life? Or like Bernie Ebbers' life?

Ah, now here are a couple of situations that the metaphor fits (Enron and Worldcom, in case you've spent too much time at the poker table and haven't caught the news in the last year or so).

Think of it, though. Both groups could make it as poker players.

But I'm not going over those troubled metaphor waters again. I'm heading in a new direction here, based on what's now available on TV. (I firmly believe that a person can survive and excel at poker without being overbearing, childish, insensitive and cutthroat; that there's room for all personality types in the game simply because it is a game.) What I'm wondering about now is how the public perceives the game of poker, after all is said and done, and is that impression strong enough to lure them back for more.

The televised version of the game are, after all, similar to "Survivor" or one of the "My So Called Life" shows where the camera focuses on an individual or group for a specific period of time to see how they deal with, well, life, in a strange, convoluted way.

What makes TV poker different, though (and this is the professional side of the game and not the copycat Pablum from Johnny-come-lately crews trying to jump on a success story) is that the resolution is real. Nobody gets voted out of the game by jealous competitors. They get their butts whipped; they lose their chips and they're gone! Nobody gets a second chance after screwing up royally. That stupid call costs exactly what it costs and there's no recourse. Your wife might forgive you but your opponent is going to thank you.

You'll probably never see a poker player cry because of a loss. You might see him run to the sidelines and start grousing with a railbird friend about a bad beat; you might see her refuse an interview because the adrenalin rush has just left and she's completely deflated, exhausted from the grueling battle that just ended a few seats short of a million bucks.

Nice guys, idiots, saints and sinners, honest men and tricksters all win poker tournaments, using tactics that suit their personalities. (Let's hope those tactics don't involve cheating.) That's what makes it a true reality show and, I suppose, when you stretch it, that's what makes the game a metaphor for life.