Tough Overcall in Lowball

Except in unusual circumstances, when one lowball player bets and another calls, subsequent players usually do not overcall with rough hands (8-7 or worse). A play frequently seen in lowball involves three players. The first player passes after the draw. The second bets, the third calls, and the first overcalls. On the showdown, we see that the second player had bet a 7, the third had called with an 8 or a 9, and the first had overcalled with the smooth 8 he had passed. If not that, the second player had bet an 8, the third had called with a 7, and the first had overcalled with the smooth 8 he had passed. In both instances, the player who passed and then overcalled loses the pot. For this reason, players who pass eights almost always call one player with them, but often do not overcall. Those who pass rough eights are even less likely to overcall with them.

Of course, another typical play is similar. The first player passes after the draw. The second bets, the third calls, and the first overcalls. On the showdown, we see that sometimes the second player was bluffing, the third had called with an 8 or a 9, and the first had overcalled with the smooth 8 he had passed. If not that, the second player had bet something like an 8-7, the third had called with an 8-6, and the first had overcalled with the smooth 8 he had passed. In both instances, the player who passed and then overcalled wins the pot. But, still, it's usually a smooth 8 with which the first player overcalls.

When a rough 8 passes and then calls, the situation is more like this: The player who bets is a notorious bluffer, the player who calls knows that and calls with almost anything, and the player who passed knows that the player who called would call the frequent bluffer with almost anything. That makes an overcall with a rough 8 or even a 9 much easier.

Typically, though, players do not overcall with eights. I frequently hear a player say, "I laid down the winning hand. I had a rough 8. I would have called Jimmy if Don hadn't called, but I couldn't overcall." I often think to myself, "Hmm, in that situation I'd be more inclined to call, because while I might win less often, I make more when I do win." I don't always think this, of course. If the first bettor is someone who rarely bluffs into two players and the caller is someone who knows this, and also otherwise doesn't normally call with worse than a rough 8, particularly when one more player remains, I don't overcall with a rough 8. But in the situation in which the original bettor is a frequent bluffer and I know the first caller knows that, I might overcall with a 9, or sometimes worse.

In general, though, if a lowball player always overcalls with eights, that player will lose a lot of money.

I just used up a lot of words explaining why overcalls with rough eights are not common and those with nines are even less common. Over-overcalls (overcalling when someone has already overcalled) with eights are extremely rare, while over-overcalls with nines are virtually unheard of.

Nonetheless, I did just that – was the third to call someone's bet when I held a 9 – and it was the right decision. Here's how it went:

I had the big blind in a $20-straight-limit (Northern California-style) lowball game. Seymour opened from the middle. I had never played with Seymour before, but I could see that he was what we in the trade call an action player. The button, Jim, a reasonably knowledgeable player, called. Billy, in the middle blind, called. Billy was fairly loose, and would normally come in to draw two cards or one to a hand as weak as a rough 8. I had 6-2-4-K-K, a two-card draw. Since it cost me only half a bet to get in, it was an easy call.

Billy drew two cards.

I drew two.

Seymour drew two, flashing the joker. For some reason, many lowball players show the joker, if they have it, when they draw two cards. They seem to think that they need public approval for going against standard lowball wisdom that says good players do not draw two cards; the joker makes it easier to complete a two-card draw, and this is justification for their otherwise poor play. When I draw two cards, which in many instances is the correct play, I never flash the joker. I try to give away as little about my hand as I can.

Jim drew one card.

Billy looked at his cards, hesitated for a moment, and then passed. I got a strong impression that if someone bet, he would call. I was pretty sure he hadn't made an 8, though, because he might bet some eights in that situation, and if he passed an 8, he would have hesitated even longer than he did. If someone ends up with a hand that he bets in some situations, it takes him longer to make up his mind not to bet it. Betting an 8 into three players is not a terrific play, but not doing so is something he would have had to think about, hence the need for longer hesitation.

I caught an ace and a 9, giving me 9-6-4-2-A. I entertained no thoughts of betting this hand, and checked immediately. I might sometimes bet a relatively smooth 9 against one opponent who had drawn one card (and more often into one opponent who had drawn two cards) when the player had yet to act, but it depended on the player, and probably 95 percent of the time I wouldn't. I certainly wouldn't bet into two players who hadn't acted, plus one who had passed after indicating – to me, at any rate; not everyone picks up on these things – that he would likely call one bet.

Now, Seymour did something that lots of action players do. He looked at the first of his draw cards and bet; that is, he bet without having seen his second card. Lots of players like to bet blind in this way. They've caught one good card, and are presumably drawing to "a monster" and want to get calls from players who might not otherwise call with rough hands. He did not, however, do something that lots of lowball players do. He did not announce that he was betting blind, at least blind to the extent of having seen only one card. But I knew what he had done and I had a good idea that Jim knew.

Jim called. Knowing that Seymour had made a blind bet, Jim could easily be calling with a rough hand. He would call in this situation with a 9, a 10, and maybe even a jack or queen. He also would call with an 8 or a 7, of course, and would raise with a 6. But of the hands with which he could be calling, there were far more worse than mine than better.

Now Billy started studying his cards, and I knew he had a dilemma. He would have called Seymour in a second if no one else had called, since I think he, too, must have noticed Seymour's blind bet. If he was even thinking of calling, he must have a 9, and be thinking, as was I, that Jim could have called with worse than that. I had earlier had reason to eliminate Billy's having an 8. If he had a 9, it almost certainly was worse than mine. Billy finally called, slamming his bet into the pot with some force. This action, a sort of reverse tell, reinforced in my mind that he had a 9, and it was rougher than mine.

I put all of these things together and called. There were lots of ifs here, but I thought the main unknown was Seymour's hand. Even the best one-card draw was nearly a 2-to-1 underdog to my hand, and I was getting 7-to-1 for my call. The next unknown was Jim's hand, but I thought my hand was at least a 3-to-1 favorite to his, based on the range of hands with which he would call. That is, there are considerably more than three times as many hands in the range 9-6 to J-10 than there are in the range 7-4 to 9-6.

Where I play, on the showdown, if there has been any betting after the draw, players show their hands in order starting with the player who made the first bet. If there's a raise, the raiser shows first. In either case, if someone obviously – or at least obvious for the situation – has the best hand, that player often shows his hand, out of courtesy and to speed up the game. In such case, the other players often just muck their hands. In this case, however, I needed to see each hand, and in order, to determine if mine was the best. This was by no means a sure thing.

Seymour turned up his second draw card. It was a queen, and he was seeing it for the first time. He hadn't looked until everyone had called. Players often like to surprise themselves when they have bet blind.

Jim turned over his hand, showing that he had caught and called with a 10.

Billy now somewhat unhappily turned over his, 9-7. He was pleased that he had called it right and beaten Seymour and Jim, but he couldn't see how he could possibly beat my overcall of his overcall. I was very pleased that everything had gone perfectly.

I somewhat triumphantly turned over my own 9-6 to take the pot. I saw a few admiring glances and a few shaking heads, as some players undoubtedly said to themselves that I had just been very lucky, and no one in his right mind would make such a call. A situation exactly like this one may never again come up in my playing career; it never has before. I knew I had made the right play for the situation.

Author's note: My friend Sabrina is unhappy about my apparent characterization of her as loose-passive. I have tried to explain how most of my characters are composites, literary devices built for the sake of developing a principle, and that "Cindy" and "Samantha" are situational models based only partly on her and her play. She remains unmoved. So, for Sabrina's benefit, I go on record as stating that her play has vastly improved in the time that she has been playing lowball, to the point that she may be capable of becoming a winning player. I say "most of my characters" because at least one exception exists: "Crying Jake" plays and acts exactly as I have depicted. Only the name has been changed to protect …