The Rabbi Speaks
Mark Green’s Poker Lessons
(as told to Ashley Adams):
Torah Reading and Poker

BY: Mark Green

BY: Ashley Adams Contact at: (Asha34@aol.com) Author of Winning 7-Card Stud

Oy, when I think of the education I wasted Ashley. I went to the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS) in New York you know. They train Rabbis there. I learned how to read and chant Torah. And here I am playing poker all the time rather than being a rabbi. Go figure. Still, I learned a critical skill at JTS that I bring with me to the poker table every time I play.

You ever see poker players who give lessons at the table but who don't ever learn anything about their own play? They play the same way, they make the same mistakes, and they take offense if anyone points out or implies that anything is deficient in their play. These players, some of whom may even be pretty good, have a lot to learn - but no way to learn it since they are deaf to criticism.

They'd benefit a lot from a little training in Torah reading. Let me explain.

First a quick lesson on Jewish learning.

The Torah is the Jewish law - the written Jewish law as either inspired by or spoken by God to the Jews (depending on which of the many branches of Judaism one follows). It is the five books of Moses, written in Hebrew and then rolled up into a scroll.. But it isn't some archaic document that is read rarely or privately by only Rabbis and learned Jews. It is a public document, read aloud in front of all who attend services. It's read in small chunks three times weekly until the entire scroll is fully recited every year or every three years (again, depending on your particular brand of Judaism).

It is our holiest book - if one can ascribe different levels of holiness to objects. And one of the honors a Jew can receive is to be called to chant it aloud in front of the entire congregation. It isn't an easy task, chanting the Torah. It requires a lot of memorization and practice to learn the precise pronunciation of all of the different words written in Hebrew. And singing the melody for the Torah? Well that isn't easy either. I'm not bragging, but I learned how to do that when I was at JTS, thank God.

When someone chants from this holy book it is very important that he or she do so correctly. It is, after all, the word of God. So it must be chanted precisely and exactly - without error in word or melody.

Toward that end people study and practice before they read Torah. But just for extra measure, to make sure that any mistakes will be corrected, one person is placed on either side of the bima, the stand on which the Torah rests, to read to themselves what the chanter is chanting - looking for mistakes. They are charged with correcting him should he stumble or mumble or fumble or otherwise mispronounce, or incorrectly chant the words. All mistakes, no matter how small, are to be corrected by them. And if, God forbid, they should fail to catch such a mistake, then every member of the congregation is supposed to pay attention so they can correct the mistake should one be made.

I have been present a few thousand times when these corrections are made. I have watched hundreds of different people correct hundreds of other people in their pronunciation or melody. Yet not once have I ever seen anyone act defensive or get angry at the person correcting him. No one gets mad; no one bristles; no one pulls rank or says "What do you know?" or "just let me finish" or anything like that. The reader, no matter how learned, just corrects his mistake and moves on, grateful for having the word of God rendered correctly. Even the Rabbi is grateful for any correction - even if it comes from a student or a child. Imagine that - a child corrects the Rabbi and no one is upset.

Here's how I see it. Just as the Torah reader needs to listen attentively to corrections and then incorporate them into his reading - simply making the change without his ego getting in the way - so too must a poker player objectively analyze without any defensiveness. If we're not learning we're not improving. Of course there aren't two people standing on either side of him correcting what he did wrong. He often only has his results, insight, memory, and instinct to go on. But he must be able to observe problems in his game or mistakes in his play without feeling inferior and without getting agitated. He must honestly assess how he is doing - and then strive to make improvements in that which has been subpar.

Few players do this. Few players bother with self analysis or self criticism. Most just continue to make the same mistakes over and over again - deaf to their own problems - hiding behind rationalizations and lies to avoid having to face their own failings. This is true at all levels of poker play, but is especially prevalent among the slightly better than average player who denies that he has any more he needs to learn or improve in his game. And so he plateaus - failing to achieve the excellent level of play he would be capable of if he were able to provide honest self-criticism.

Look at the behavior of poker players. How many of us lie, at least a little, about our results to soothe our egos. We say to ourselves and others that we are "just about even", though accurate records would reveal that we are, in fact, down $3.00/hour for the past year or so. Or we ascribe our losses to the rake, or time charges, or unusual bad beats, or cheating on the internet, or anything but ourselves. We say to ourselves that our opponents "got lucky", rather than face the fact that our play wasn't correct either. We stay in a "good game" too long rather than recognizing that our abilities have diminished.

Similarly, how many of us can couple the humility needed to recognize when we are among players who are better than we with the fortitude to leave such a game - running the risk of being thought a weak player by our peers? It's not easy to find ones abilities to be wanting. But if we are to survive as players we need to.

I was in shul this morning and I listened to a young rabbinical student chant the Torah. He was an expert, chanting smoothly and seamlessly. He didn't pause or stumble even a little. We all read along silently, focused on the meaning of the words, not on the Torah reader at all - so unobtrusively even was his recitation. My mind wandered and I thought about what a fine rabbi he would probably make. I'll have to teach him to play poker I mused. Maybe my education wasn't wasted after all.

© The Poker Forum.com, all rights reserved