I received a letter from a student recently. The student is from Latvia and is one of the nicest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of coaching. He has an incredible attitude and genuinely enjoys learning. I’ve never been anything but faithful that his poker dreams would come to fruition. Unfortunately, the game has not been panning out well for him.



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In his letter, he said, “I’ve moved down to lower limits to reduce variance and yet I’ve still hit a breakeven stretch for over 2,000 tournaments. This has really frustrated me, as I don’t know many people who have put in the hours like I have. I’m having a hard time focusing for long sessions. I wanted to know if you could give me some advice. I know you have started from the bottom yourself at least once in your poker career. What motivated you to keep going after you lost large sums of money? How did you change your attitude to go down the stakes?”

The timing of his email was serendipitous. Just a while ago, I put some money down on a prop bet for a low-stakes competition. I did it mostly because I didn’t have much money online and needed some extra motivation. I was embarrassed at the frequency of my recent reloads. I was tired of mixing money I worked for with my bankroll. I also wanted to prove it was still possible to make great money at lower stakes and that you could actually financially outperform many higher stakes players.

In the first weeks, I made a couple thousand playing $5 and $10 tournaments. Sweet! Time to move up and ditch this low-stakes crap! Then, I got cocky and started registering for anything and everything. In a few days, I’d worked through much of my profit. I’ve since recovered, but the lesson was learned: low-stakes are much more difficult than when I was coming up. I could definitely sympathize with the young Latvian now.

At the same time, a horse of mine has been extremely frustrated. This is especially hilarious because he’s on the opposite end of the spectrum. He won the Bigger 55 on a Sunday a few months ago and has not had a big win since, or even a win. He has moved down and devoted more time to studying because he realizes his Sunday win is an anomaly that doesn’t occur that often. Still, after winning such a large tournament, he seems to think he should be doing really well in $10 tournaments.

I started laughing thinking about all of us. We’re all frustrated for no good reason. What kind of inflated ego do I have to come in and play for two weeks and expect to make thousands like it was nothing?

My horse is playing in tournaments with more regs now than there were in that Sunday major field. Everybody, including himself, unfairly expects him to crush just because he won one single tournament.

Even my Latvian friend is in an advantageous position even though he’s grinding $2.50 tournaments. Yes, it blows that Latvia got poker so late in the game and that jackass Americans like me have been able to get an eight-year head start on him. At the same time, these Latvian kids have advantages I never had growing up.

For one, most of them live with their families. This is a huge win and most of these guys don’t even realize it. They have no expenses practically. Their bankroll can grow wildly. For a “woe unto me” comparison, I finished high school in a city an hour away living in a friend’s garage that had no bathroom or heating. I played poker with a gun to my head for the first years of my career, knowing if I lost, there was no one else who was going to feed me.

Do you think I had that much time to learn or think about the game critically? Even when I did get some time to learn, training websites were in their infancy and much of the advice given to me proved to be false.

I was grinding most of my waking hours, wondering why I was barely paying my bills, while forums and blogs were flooded with stories of 17-year-olds buying condos and “ballas” spending $4,000 on a dinner. Eventually, I had to start paying for my mother’s rent and other bills. My sister needed help with college.

In the midst of all the stress, I hit a downswing, so I broke down and got a backer. When I admitted to working with an investor, most players told me at the time that I wasn’t a real poker player. As I’d bust live events, guys would shout at me, “Just go borrow some more money, loser!”

I do not write all of this to get sympathy. I’m pretty damn happy right now and it’s a privilege to cash in on my “hard” upbringing. I write this instead to show you guys how uneducated we were back then. Backing stables and coaches work much more efficiently now to make you a great player. The learning curb is steeper, but there are many people who will knowledgeably lead you to the winner’s circle.

Furthermore, I wouldn’t trade how I came up for anything. I make a great living now from coaching students because I remember what it was like to not have time to analyze the game I love. I remember what it was like to have to drag myself to the computer 20 minutes after waking up each day. I remember not having a social life because my mediocre poker abilities ensured I’d be playing longer hours to make more paltry paychecks.

Everything I have today is a product of what I didn’t have at the beginning. “The enemy is a great teacher,” as the Dalai Lama (pictured) says. If you can’t figure out how to enjoy your job now with the abundant resources available, then money isn’t going to change anything. Your attitude is 100% your fault and your problem.

Do you know how many good people wake up every day knowing there is absolutely no chance their situation will change? Do you know how many good people have to wake up at 4:00am to work at a bakery for 14 hours only make one-tenth of what you’d make in some of your worst months?

The “hard” times serve to teach you discipline. They help you appreciate what is really important in this game: the freedom to work as much and as hard as you want. I have never known anyone who focuses on enjoying the quality and duration of their work who has not made a good living at poker.

There is no boss not giving you the promotion because of your gender, ethnicity, height, sexual preference, or because he thinks his son would be a much better fit for the job. There is no union rep who wants you in a different position. There’s no supervising committee second-guessing you every step of the way. There are no government permits to pull in order to enter a new game. Everything is on you and you alone.

The trade you make for this freedom is the variance you experience. Only the weak bemoan its existence. The strong realize its necessity and are even thankful for it. Your results must be delayed randomly in order to ensure the game’s survival and protect lesser players. If you want a game you’ll never run poorly in, go pick up chess. I know some flat-on-their-ass broke Grand Masters who will teach you for $20 an hour.

There has never, at any other time in history, been a game that has employed so many people. Let’s stop worrying that we’re not in the top 1% and instead thank God we were born during this time. If we were born 20 years ago, we’d have to play poker for a lifetime to see the number of hands we play in a month now. We’d be at the mercy of live variance and all of the fees that accompany brick-and-mortar casinos. We wouldn’t be able to work anywhere on Earth and consequently would not be able to currency leverage.

And for players who were born in a country like, say, Latvia? Twenty years ago, there was no live poker. Earning a living in USD playing a game wouldn’t be an option. You’d have to enter the workforce and enjoy high school with paychecks.

Don’t beat yourself up for getting down. It happens to everyone. I get depressed as much as anyone, if not more. The only reason I’m still doing this seven years after I started, when practically everyone I came up with is gone, is because I take the time to be taught. I talk to friends who are much smarter than I am. I reread articles that have helped me right the ship before. I try to have a life outside of poker so I remember what real people have to do for money.

Make the small changes you know are necessary to initiate the real shift. You understand if you keep a dog inside all day, he will get depressed. You have to take him out for a walk sometime. You’re the same way; go outside and do some kind of exercise a few times a week. Try not to smoke weed or drink on days you’re playing or the night before. I know how un-cool this is to say, but both are depressants and can make you foggy and irritable. Everyone who hangs out with Phil Ivey says he doesn’t drink hardly anything and admits he doesn’t like to smoke weed. Don’t you think there’s a reason for that?

Save money and live below your means. You’ll learn much more if you have six months of expenses saved up and you’re not sweating the electric bill. Have other interests outside of poker. Daniel Negreanu has said he has always done his best when he has had other things going on in his life. It helps even more if your hobby is something completely different than grinding at a computer desk.

If you read about a player doing everything we’ve discussed, you would go, “Wow, this guy is on his game.” You’re writing your own life’s biography every day. Be that guy. Pretend it’s a year from now. Looking back, what do you want the “you of today” to be doing? Do you think you’re a professional poker player? The question can only be answered through action.

Let’s get to work.

Alex AssassinatoFitzgerald has amassed $3,000,000+ in tournament earnings alone. Alex is an instructor at PocketFives Trainingand can be reached for private lessons at Assassinatocoaching@gmail.com. You can also reach him on Twitter @TheAssassinatoand on Facebook at Facebook.com/Assassinato. He currently resides in his suburban home in Costa Rica with his fiancÃ© and poodle.