This Little Piggy

It was early Saturday morning during World Series of Poker time. I had been playing since Friday afternoon, and was stuck the whole time. It was a much longer session than I usually put in these days. My friend Mike had just quit the game after booking a nice win. The game was great, I was still feeling good, and was determined to get out.

I tend to quit as a loser much more often than most players. As a general rule, I find that my play is not as sharp as when I am ahead. I attribute much of this to a confidence level within myself, and to the fact that losing tends to drain me of mental energy. When things are going well, I have more confidence in my decisions. It's much like when I line up a 4-foot putt; I feel much better about the putt if I have made my previous 10 4-footers than if I have missed my last two. (Yeah, I miss two in a row lots more often than I make 10 in a row.) Also, my opponents tend to be empowered and playing with confidence, because they are the ones holding the chips – my chips!

My determination was holding me in this game. I believed that I was still playing great, and the game was still fired up. My friend leaving helped, too, as it softened the field some. Shortly after he left, I picked up the 8 5 in the small blind. Four players called and the button raised. It wasn't the hand I was looking to pick up, but as is the case in life, you have to work with what you've got and play the hand you're dealt.

Suited connectors and suited gappers play better in passive games that have many callers. That type of hand plays better if you can get in cheaply and get the opportunity to draw correctly. That situation is prevalent when several players are likely to take the flop and there is very little flop and turn raising. Since many of your draws will be slim, the lower the cost and the better your price, the greater and more valuable your opportunities.

This was a fast game and the hand was a big, fat pig, but the price the pot was laying me was correct, due to the level of volume I was getting and the fact that most of my opponents played poorly. I called the extra $40.

A bad thing happened: The big blind, a good Las Vegas professional, reraised. Then, another bad thing happened: The tightest player in the game, who had limped in under the gun, made it four bets. Sometimes the situation you thought you were getting into is not the situation you find yourself in.

Conceptually speaking, you should fold in marginal situations if there are players to act behind you who are likely to raise. The field called, and it was two more bets to me. The pot had gotten huge. I peeked at my hand again as I thought, "Nope, this porker hasn't gotten any better since the last time I looked at it." And I was out of position against the aggressors. I wished the pot had not been double-raised behind me, but given the volume, I was not folding. I called the two extra bets. Then, another bad thing happened: The big blind capped the pot. Everyone called and we took the flop sevenhanded for the five bets.

The flop came 8-4-2 rainbow with one heart. I was sure that at least one overpair was out, and checked with the intention of making a decision when it got back to me. The big blind led, the under-the-gun weak-tight raised, and the rest of the field folded to me. As a general rule, I do not call raises with one-pair hands that I know are no good, particularly with a player yet to act who might raise. However, this pot was huge – $1,140 at this point. I also was indubitably confident that if I hit my hand, it would be good. Yes, I could get redrawn out on at the river, but I was pretty certain of what I was up against. Also, I was pretty sure that the under-the-gun limper held A-A, and I thought the Las Vegas pro knew he had A-A, limiting the chance of the Las Vegas pro (who I was pretty sure had K-K) reraising and trapping me in the middle once again. I thought I would most likely be getting 1,170-to-60 on the call with all improvement on my hand being good. With five likely outs and a backdoor-flush draw, the call was an easy overlay. I needed to extend those odds slightly in case of a reraise or my hand losing if I made it. I didn't need to adjust the odds too much, though, as I was confident that I was not drawing dead and could get away from my hand if it was beat. I called the $60. The Las Vegas pro called behind me, confirming my read on his hand.

The turn card was the 6, giving me both a flush draw and a gutshot-straight draw. I now had 17 outs against two overpairs. There was no semibluff value here; I was going to get called down no matter what. I checked and called the under-the-gun player. The big blind called, also.

Swish … nothing but net … the J hit. I thought about how to get the best value out of my holding. Having made my flush, being out of position cost me a little value, which is something you have to factor into your edge calculations when running uphill. If I led, I thought I might lose the Las Vegas pro and get called by only the under-the-gun bettor. If I checked with the intention of check-raising, I knew the under-the-gun player would bet, and I thought he would reluctantly pay off my raise. I checked, the Las Vegas pro checked, and the under-the-gun player bet. I raised, folding the Las Vegas pro, and got a hesitant call from the under-the-gun player, who threw two aces faceup into the muck after I showed my hand. He muttered something about a backdoor … and not in a friendly manner.

I had been sitting there for hours getting all of my big hands cracked, and then dug out with a two-gapper pig of a hand by making a backdoor flush. Life was good scooping in those chips.

Whenever I have been stuck throughout a session and get out late in the session, I look back at all the plays that made or saved me an extra bet(s) here and there, add them up, and thank myself for making them. Of course, then there are the times I leave buried, thinking about all the bets I threw away and wasted, and cuss myself out for squandering them. It is only human to be somewhat results-oriented. And for today, the 8 5 was the little piggy that cried "whee, whee, whee" all the way home.

Editor's note: Roy Cooke played winning professional poker for 16 years. He is a successful real estate broker/salesperson in Las Vegas – please see his ad below.