The Fish comes in many forms, big and small, short and tall, hirsute and smooth, perfumed and foul, and not always piscine in appearance, which is to say not always scaled and gaping; but rest be assured at most games a Fish, or several, will show up, and shed as many chips as humanly possible. The Fish is an individual who has one irredeemable character flaw: he or she just can’t win at poker. The Fish can’t win, period. Though perhaps better left to forensic specialists and even psychiatrists, or psychics, or alternative investigators to analyze its mysteries and provide some explanation as to why a Fish is a Fish, it is a phenomenon that merits a few thoughts and words.

Now, a Fish isn’t a calling station, or a passive or weak player necessarily. The Fish comes in many varieties, silvery flashy Fish, timorous bottom dwellers, Fish who can almost fly, and even aggressive fighting Fish, who roar and pound upstream fiercely. But what ties all Fish together is not a singular physical or mental or emotional characteristic, or any combination of these. The Fish can be intelligent, or stupid, or sage, or psychotic, like any humans, and the Fish, like any humans, understands, to varying degrees, the rudiments of the game, and plays to the best of his or her ability. What the Fish share is nothing physical, per se, nothing mental, nothing really quantifiable in any meaningful manner, except in the matter of losing at poker. Whether they share any other traits, which is purely coincidental, all Fish share a penchant, indeed a peculiar genius, for losing.

I’ve tried to analyze it myself recently, both at Fallsview and at home games. What I’ve noticed is this: Fish are out of rhythm. That’s it in a nutshell. Everything they do cuts against the rhythm of the poker game. When they make a big lay down to a large raise, they invariably had the winning hand; and when they courageously call, they inevitably hold the weaker hand. When they get aces and make a standard raise everyone folds, or almost everyone calls and cracks them like walnuts. When they raise with less than premium holdings someone always re-raises with either the better hand or with a lesser hand that will become the better hand after the flop, the turn or the river. Whenever the Fish zigs he or she should be zagging, whenever they go over the top they are going over Mt. Everest, whenever they bluff the other party has quads just in case. It’s truly remarkable to witness.

My conclusions are simple. If you look in the mirror and see something like a giant guppy, or if you seem to lose all the time at poker, recognize the symptoms and doctor thyself: poker is not the game for you. Just as some people can’t get their hemorrhoids tied off without an anesthetic, some people can’t win at poker. It’s nothing to feel shame about it. It’s just the way it is. If you are Fish stay away from the dry land of Poker.

Emile Frendo of the Honeymoon City is a semi-professional poker player and winner of the 2006 Pirate Poker Open Championship.