Three years ago, I sat down at a $5/$10 table in Vegas feeling pretty good about my game. Won a local tournament, crushed my home game for months, thought I was hot stuff. Four hours later, I'd lost $3,000 to a quiet guy in a hoodie who hadn't said ten words all night. As I walked away broke, the dealer leaned over and whispered, "That's Johnny Chan's protégé. You just got sharked."
That night taught me the most important lesson in poker: there are levels to this game, and what you call someone who's "good" depends entirely on where they sit in the food chain. A shark at your local $1/$2 game might be a fish at $5/$10. The crusher at $5/$10 might be breakeven at $25/$50.
After fifteen years in poker, from home games to high stakes, I've learned every term for every skill level. More importantly, I've learned how to identify exactly what type of player you're facing within ten hands. Let me break down the entire poker ecosystem and teach you not just what to call good players, but how to spot them before they take your stack.
The Apex Predators: Sharks, Whales, and Killers
At the top of the poker food chain swim the sharks. But here's what most people don't understand: "shark" isn't just one thing. There are different species, and knowing which type you're facing changes everything.
The Professional Shark is what most people think of—someone who plays poker for a living, studies constantly, and treats the game like a business. They're not at the table for fun or ego. They're there to extract maximum value with minimum variance. These players have bankrolls of 100+ buy-ins, use solver software, and view poker through pure mathematics. They're not unbeatable, but beating them consistently requires being equally skilled.
The Whale Shark is different—a wealthy recreational player who's also genuinely skilled. They don't need the money but love the competition. They'll play higher stakes than their skill justifies, making them profitable to play against despite being good. Think successful businesspeople who study poker seriously but still have exploitable leaks because poker isn't their primary focus.
The Local Shark dominates specific games but struggles when the environment changes. Every card room has that guy who crushes the $2/$5 game five nights a week but won't move up because he knows his edge disappears at higher stakes. They're experts at exploiting the specific player pool they face regularly.
The Online Shark/Live Fish phenomenon is real. Players who crush online through volume and software assistance sometimes struggle live where physical reads, table talk, and slower pace change the game entirely. Conversely, live sharks often can't adjust to online's speed and lack of physical information.
The Professional Classes: Grinders, Regs, and Pros
Below sharks but above recreational players exists the professional middle class of poker. These players might not be world-beaters, but they consistently profit from the game.
Grinders are the blue-collar workers of poker. They play solid, unspectacular poker, putting in volume to overcome variance. A grinder might only win 3-5 big blinds per 100 hands, but they play 60 hours a week and understand that small edges compound over time. They're not making spectacular plays—they're just playing fundamentally sound poker against worse players.
Regulars or "regs" are fixtures at specific stakes or card rooms. Every $1/$2 game has that crew of regs who know each other's tendencies perfectly. They make money from tourists and casual players while mostly avoiding each other. Being a reg isn't about skill level—it's about consistency and presence. Some regs are barely winning players who survive through game selection and avoiding other regs.
Semi-pros have day jobs but supplement income through poker. They're often better than grinders technically but can't commit full-time due to life circumstances. The semi-pro playing Friday and Saturday nights might be more skilled than the grinder playing daily, but the grinder's volume gives them the experience edge.
The distinction matters because each type requires different counter-strategies. Grinders you can exploit through aggression since they're often too conservative. Regs you beat by avoiding their comfort zones—unusual bet sizes, weird lines, unfamiliar situations. Semi-pros often have timing tells based on their limited playing schedule.
The Middle Kingdom: TAGs, LAGs, and Nits
Most winning players fall into these categories. They're not sharks, but they're definitely not fish. Understanding these player types is crucial for navigation at any stakes.
TAGs (Tight-Aggressive) players are the textbook "good" players. They play 15-25% of hands, bet when they have it, fold when they don't. They're predictable but solid. Most poker books teach TAG strategy because it's profitable and lower variance. The problem? Everyone knows how to play against TAGs now. Their transparency makes them exploitable by observant opponents.
LAGs (Loose-Aggressive) players are more dangerous because they're harder to read. Playing 25-40% of hands with aggression on every street, they put constant pressure on opponents. Good LAGs are thinking players who understand balance. Bad LAGs are just maniacs with a fancy acronym. The difference? Good LAGs have method to their madness—they know why they're betting.
Nits are rocks who play maybe 8-12% of hands. They're so tight they squeak. Technically they're winning players because they only play premium hands, but their hourly rate is terrible because they're so easy to avoid. When a nit raises, everyone folds unless they have the nuts. Nits think they're good at poker because they rarely lose big pots, not realizing they also rarely win big pots.
The evolution usually goes: Fish → Nit → TAG → LAG → Balanced. Each stage represents understanding different aspects of the game. Most players plateau at TAG because it's comfortable and profitable enough at low stakes.
The Food: Fish, Donkeys, and Whales
Now we reach the players everyone wants at their table—the providers of the poker economy. Without them, poker dies.
Fish are simply bad players. They play too many hands, call too much, don't understand position or pot odds. But here's the crucial distinction: not all fish are equal. The passive fish who calls everything is different from the aggressive fish who raises randomly. The drunk fish plays differently than the tilted fish. Understanding fish subspecies determines how you extract maximum value.
Donkeys or "donks" are aggressive bad players. They bet when they should check, raise when they should call, and somehow always seem to have the random two-pair when you have top pair. Donkeys are more dangerous than passive fish because their aggression sometimes accidentally balances their terrible hand selection.
Whales are rich fish—bad players with deep pockets. They're poker's most valuable resource. One whale can fund an entire table of pros. The key with whales isn't just taking their money—it's keeping them happy while you do it. Make them laugh, make them feel welcome, lose small pots to them intentionally. A happy whale keeps playing. An unhappy whale finds another game.
Calling someone a fish to their face is poker's cardinal sin. Not because it's mean (though it is), but because it's bad business. That fish pays your bills. Educating them or insulting them just costs you money. Smart players protect fish like shepherds protect sheep.
The Specialty Roles: Angles, Coolers, and Luckboxes
Some players defy normal classification, requiring their own categories based on specific behaviors or results.
Angle Shooters aren't necessarily good or bad at poker—they're good at exploiting rules and etiquette grey areas. They'll act out of turn to gain information, make ambiguous actions to gauge reactions, or exploit new players' ignorance of rules. They're parasites who damage the game's integrity. Most rooms eventually ban chronic angle shooters.
Cooler Kings seem to always have the second-best hand. Set under set, smaller flush, lower straight. They're not necessarily bad players—they just run catastrophically bad. Every poker room has that guy who's been "running bad" for three years. At some point, it's not variance—it's leaks.
Luckboxes are variance's chosen ones. They hit every draw, win every flip, crack aces with garbage. Short-term luckboxes are just experiencing variance. Long-term luckboxes are actually good players who appear lucky because they put themselves in positions to get lucky. The difference matters.
Bumhunters are pros who exclusively seek out weak players. They won't play other good players, immediately leaving when fish bust. It's profitable but viewed as predatory. Online bumhunters use software to track fish across sites. Live bumhunters follow whales from room to room.
How to Identify Player Types Quickly
Within ten hands, you should categorize every player at your poker table. Here's how:
Watch their VPIP (Voluntarily Put money In Pot) percentage. Nits play less than 15% of hands. TAGs play 15-25%. LAGs play 25-40%. Fish play 40%+. You don't need software—just pay attention to who enters pots.
Observe bet sizing. Good players use various sizes for different situations. Fish use the same size always or random sizes with no logic. Sharks' sizing tells a story. Fish sizing tells you they don't understand the story.
Note their reaction to aggression. Fish call too much or fold too much—rarely the correct amount. Good players' responses vary based on situation. Sharks make you uncomfortable with their decisions because they're unexploitable.
Listen to their talk. Fish explain their plays, justify their decisions, complain about luck. Sharks rarely discuss strategy at the table. Grinders talk about other games, other players, poker gossip. The talk reveals the mindset.
Check their comfort level. New fish look nervous, check their cards repeatedly, fumble chips. Experienced fish look comfortable but make terrible decisions. Regs look bored. Sharks look focused but relaxed. Physical comfort often correlates with skill level.
What This Means for Your Game
Understanding player classifications isn't academic exercise—it directly impacts your strategy and profitability.
Against sharks, minimize confrontation unless you have clear equity advantage. There's no shame in avoiding better players. Ego battles with sharks just transfer money upward. Wait for better spots against worse players.
Against grinders and regs, exploit their predictability. They play straightforward poker, so unusual lines confuse them. They're also more likely to give you credit for hands because they assume you think like them.
Against fish, simplify your strategy. Don't bluff calling stations. Don't make fancy plays against players who don't understand them. Value bet relentlessly. Let them make mistakes rather than forcing action.
The most important classification is honest self-assessment. Are you the shark at your home game table but a fish at the casino? That's fine—play where you have an edge. There's no shame in being a winning $1/$2 player rather than a losing $5/$10 player.
The Evolution of Poker Players
Every shark started as a fish. The path from fish to shark isn't linear, and most players plateau somewhere in the middle. Understanding this evolution helps identify where players are in their journey.
Stage 1: Unconscious Incompetence. New players who don't know what they don't know. They think poker is about catching cards. They're happy fish, enjoying the game without understanding they're losing money long-term.
Stage 2: Conscious Incompetence. They realize they're bad and start studying. This is when fish become nits, playing only premium hands while learning. They're losing less but not winning yet.
Stage 3: Conscious Competence. They understand strategy and implement it deliberately. This produces TAGs and grinders—players who win through disciplined play but have to think about every decision.
Stage 4: Unconscious Competence. Strategy becomes instinctive. This creates LAGs and sharks who make complex decisions quickly because patterns are internalized. They don't think about poker—they just play.
Most players never reach Stage 4. They get comfortable at Stage 3, making enough money or having enough fun that further improvement isn't worth the effort. That's perfectly valid—not everyone needs to be a shark.
The Bottom Line on Poker Player Classification
What you call someone good at poker depends entirely on context. The "shark" destroying your home game might be a "fish" at higher stakes. The "grinder" you mock for playing boring poker might have a higher hourly rate than the "LAG" making spectacular plays.
More important than labels is understanding the ecosystem. Poker needs all player types to survive. Sharks need fish to feed on. Fish need fun games to enjoy. Grinders need volume. Regs need consistency. Remove any element and the ecosystem collapses.
The question isn't "what do you call someone good at poker?" It's "good compared to what?" In poker, everything is relative. The only absolute is that someone is always the fish at the table. If you can't spot them, you know what that means.
Ready to test your skills against different player types? Start with a home game setup where you can practice identifying and exploiting various playing styles in a controlled environment before taking on the sharks at the casino.