Horrendous Plays: There's Just No Other Way to Describe Them - Part I

Sure, I could have used a nicer adjective than "horrendous." I could have used one of any number of euphemisms, like "unprofitable plays" or "financially unjustified plays," but none would do the topic justice. None would grab the attention of the reader and properly alert him to the severity of what playing poorly will do to his bankroll. Poker is such a complex game that merely learning a series of generalities about what to do is an incomplete endeavor if the lessons taught are done so without conveying, by example, what not to do. The following horrendous play occurred in a seven-card stud game.

Third street: Three players were in the pot. I started with a diamond flush draw, which included the J 3 in the hole and the 10 as my doorcard. The player in the No. 8 seat had the low card, which was a 4, but its rank proved to be of no relevance. I was in the No. 5 seat and called, as did the No. 7 seat, who had the 8.

Fourth street: Nobody appeared to improve, but in reality, the low card had caught a 9, giving him a gutshot three-straight with his Q-10 in the hole (if you can truly call that an improvement). I caught a blank and the other player caught an unsuited jack, which also turned out to be a blank. There was very little money in the pot, as there were no raises, and we all checked.

Fifth street: I caught a jack, which paired one of my holecards, our "hero" in the No. 8 seat with the gutshot three-straight caught a king to make an actual gutshot draw, and the No. 7 seat caught the 6, which matched suit with his doorcard, the 8. Predictably, the king, who was now high, checked. I bet, with a great degree of certainty that my jacks were the best hand, and was surprised when I received two calls.

Sixth street: Of course, the case jack fell right out of the sky onto the No. 8 seat's lap, and the No. 7 seat caught yet another heart, the deuce. He was now showing three suited cards (his doorcard, and fifth and sixth streets). I caught a black 3, which was an apparent rag card that actually paired my other holecard. The king bet, and I reluctantly called with my jacks up while simultaneously wondering if the player with the three suited cards behind me was going to raise and hoping (in futility) that our hero couldn't possibly have played that badly. I was wrong.

At this point, you might be wondering if I made a poor play by calling here. Let me qualify what I was thinking. While calling, I had made up my mind that if the No. 7 seat raised behind me, I was done with the hand right then and there. His not raising on sixth street was very important. It indicated that he had not played a flush draw on fifth street, because the suit-matching sixth-street card would have made a flush at that point. So, if he wasn't playing a flush draw on fifth street, I retroactively ascertained that his only probable calling hands on fifth street were a pair, or two pair at best. Since I had jacks up, and his highest card was a jack and the case jack was now out, he could not have jacks up as well, and therefore his possible two pair simply had to be lower than mine. Furthermore, I assumed that since his fifth-street hand was not a four-flush, his having a three-flush card in the hole to go along with his pair would be a somewhat random occurrence. Of course, if he had two pair, he could not have a flush draw as well. Couple all of this with his odds of making such a serendipitous hand on the river, and I evaluated him not to be a probable threat.

Seventh street: This round contains the part of the story that turns a very bad play into an absolutely horrendous one, but let us take inventory of what the No. 8 seat has done so far: He called a big bet on fifth street to stay in a pot that had as little money in it as possible at that juncture, and did so while playing in a game that had an exceptionally small ante structure, to boot, not that this play could ever be justified by even the most disproportionately large ante structure. He did so hoping to catch what was surely a two-outer, and likely a one-outer due to my betting when my jack hit me. I know what you are thinking. Sure, you could argue that at that moment in time he had other "outs," insofar as his catching a queen or king would put him in the lead over my jacks. However, since the king was exposed, he would get virtually zero implied value if he were to make open kings and disproportionately low actual value from such a play, for openly pairing kings would force me to fold if I were not to improve my hand as well. It is true that he might catch a queen on sixth street, which would put him in the lead if I were not to improve, but the poor play required in trying to catch one of three remaining queens in hope of maybe making the best hand should be glaringly obvious. (He was getting 2.85-to-1 on his money, but as it turned out, he could improve the hand with only seven of 36 unknown cards, which is roughly one chance in five, or 4-to-1) Chances were extremely likely that the third player also would fold if he openly paired kings. But what if my bet on fifth street was indicative of jacks up already (as opposed to my making jacks up on sixth street), or that I had slow-played two other pair made on the turn? Speaking of slow-playing, how does he know I don't have pocket aces, kings, or queens? How does he know what the No. 7 seat holds and what his future raising capabilities are? All of these factors would force him to have to get the miracle card or catch perfect-perfect to make queens up or kings up on sixth and seventh streets. What if I have three jacks, rendering his straight draw completely dead? If any of these scenarios was the case (and not altogether unlikely), his hand would have been in exceptionally bad shape. At any rate, he did stay in, and upon making this ridiculous miracle hand, he did one assertive thing: He bet on sixth street. Of course, what if he had been raised by the third player who was now showing three suited cards had he made a flush? Would he have had the prudence to fold a made straight that he had "worked so hard" to obtain? I would venture not. Suddenly, this hand that went after a small pot could be paying through the nose only to lose.

After all of this, he made yet another mistake: He checked on the river because of what I can only assume was fear of the No. 7 seat's possible flush. Now, I understand that in certain instances, one might think it prudent to check a straight into a flush board. However, that generally applies when you are very sure that your opponent has only a flush draw and virtually nothing else with which he would call if you were to value bet the river, and that it is not a multiway pot, whereby opponents who are not on a draw to beat you have a likely chance of calling you with lesser hands. Furthermore, how can you justify not attempting to get some value on the river when you took such a preposterous amount of "heat" to make the hand in the first place? Well, the answer is that you cannot. This play was horrendous on not one, but several levels:

• The pot had an exceptionally small amount of money in it on fifth street.

• Gutshot-straight draws are not generally advisable hands to play.

• Gutshot draws in which you can see two of your cards out and there is a decent chance that a third card is out are very bad hands to play.

• Paying to catch your best card only to fearfully check the next street is rarely accepted as sound play.

Of course, the end result is that he won the hand, but that is obviously of no relevance. If you think that because something "worked" once, that makes it a sound play, or if you are prone to making these sorts of plays, I strongly suggest you take a long, hard look at what your reasoning is. I cannot begin to tell you the internal glee I feel when someone at the table spouts out the cliché, "Well, look who is raking in the pot," or some other variation of this utterly nonsensical rhetoric in response to the head-shaking that may result from such a blatantly bad play. The fundamental concept that cannot be stated enough is that when you take "shots" with hands whose odds-against exceed the proportion of payoff – that is, you are not getting justified pot odds, you are going to go broke. It is just a question of when, not if.

Editor's note: Grant Strauss is a Las Vegas-based medium- and high-limit professional seven-card stud player who has played in cardrooms throughout the country, and has earned the reputation of being a successful player.