Reading a Read (aka Horrendous Plays - Part IV)

Reading what opponents have in their seven-card stud hands is an extremely complex amalgam of logic, psychology, science, memory, intuition, and flat-out guesswork. Nobody should suggest that it is an easy task, as it most assuredly is not.

Now, let us take it one step further. In a multiway pot, there are occasions wherein we not only need to ascertain what our opponents are holding, but must momentarily crawl around inside their heads to see what they think another opponent is holding. Of course, this skill also comes in handy in heads-up pots when you want to figure out what your opponent thinks you have, so you can play accordingly. I have touched on that concept in previous columns, and will again, but I digress. This is about a three-way pot.

Third street: The game is $40-$80 stud. I am in the No. 8 seat. My two opponents in the No. 1 seat and No. 5 seat are showing doorcards of 10 and ace, respectively. I have split queens with a 5. The low card is in the No. 3 seat, and he opens for $10. The No. 4 seat folds, the No. 5 seat makes it $40, the No. 6 and No. 7 seats fold, and I make it $80. Without even a moment's hesitation, the No. 1 seat calls the whole $80 with his 10. (The No. 1 seat, as it turns out later, has split tens with a jack.) The cold-calling, two-bet mistake he makes here is both palpable and substantial, but is to be dwarfed by the error yet to come on fifth street. This is simply not a good play on his part, not only because there is a huge chance that I have him beat, but because there is a chance that the ace will reraise. Predictably, the No. 2 and No. 3 seats fold, and sure enough, the No. 5 seat blasts it up to $120 with that threatening ace on board. Naturally, we both call for one more increment.

Fourth street: Apparent (and as it turns out later, actual) blanks pop out all the way around. Like clockwork, the ace bets, and we both call.

Fifth street: Here is where things get interesting. While my opponents both catch rags, I manage to spike a 5, yielding me split queens up. Of course, the ace in the No. 5 seat cannot possibly know this, and he shoves out the obligatory $80 bet. I grab a stack of $10 chips, remove four of them off the top, and declare, "Raise." At this point, the "reading of the read" should be taking place. The No. 1 seat should not only be reading the No. 5 seat for split aces or pocket kings (remotely possible: the other two queens in the hole), he should also be reading my read of the No. 5 seat's hand. Hence, he should be reading me for queens up or a pocket pair that became hidden trips on fourth or fifth street, due to my raise. In fact, there is pretty much no other hand I could have here, as I was neither suited on board nor showing any straight possibilities. An on-the-come raise here is somewhat out of the question. You see, he should know that I am putting the No. 5 seat on the premium pair, and that my raise can only mean an improvement on my end. Either improvement (queens up or trips) renders his hand almost drawing dead. Basically, he has two outs, unless he catches runner-runner to back into some unforeseeable full house. Amazingly, the No. 1 seat takes all of the heat of a $160 call with only a pair of tens in his hand, and no overcards to my queen. When the ace merely places another $80 into the pot, as opposed to a reraise, it makes the hands fairly obvious.

Sixth street: Before you read this, you probably already know what happened. The ridiculous occurred, and the magic two-outer 10 showed up. Of course, he bets, the ace calls, and I sit there momentarily stunned, contemplating a fold. Even though I was mighty sure I was beaten, pot odds demanded that I call. Let us analyze that proposition for a moment. At this exact moment, there is $1,210 in the pot. The eight antes plus the bring-in makes $90, three $120 bets on third street, three $40 bets on fourth street, three $160 bets on fifth street, and my two opponents' $80 bets on sixth street add up to $1,210. My $80 call here is getting immediate pot odds of just over 15-to-1. None of my cards are out, so I have four outs, two of which are virtual locks if hit. I am looking at my own six cards and eight of my opponents' upcards, and there were five folded doorcards. That is 19 seen cards. But wait, some intuitive logic can be applied here to narrow the odds. We can pretty much assume that one card in the No. 1 seat's hole is the third 10, and that one card in the No. 5 seat's hole is either an ace or one of two kings in the pocket. I call these quasi-seen cards. We can now eliminate 21 cards from the deck, and that leaves 31. Well, four out of 31 makes me a 6.75-to-1 underdog. Just off the top, I'll take a 6.75-to-1 shot at a 15.1-to-1 payoff all day long, but there is another street to come. If on the river I hit my queen (a 14.5-to-1 shot), not only will I be receiving the existing 15.1-to-1 payoff, it is almost certain the No. 1 seat will bet his full house, or even unimproved trips. Naturally, I'd raise and get another bet out of him. So, chuck another $160 onto that pile, and you get $1,370. There is also the chance that the initial leader of this hand, the high pair of aces or kings in the No. 5 seat, will make a second pair or trips. If all of his cards are live, he's got an almost even-money chance (17-to-14 against). His making a second pair will surely induce him to dump another $80 of dead money into the pot, and making trips might prompt him to raise in front of me. Then, I could three-bet it, and make a huge pot out of it. There really are myriads of possible outcomes here to justify the call.

Seventh street: Of course, none of these things happened, and the third-place contender ended up winning the pot.

The moral of the story is that his fifth-street call was totally unjustified by the pot odds at that juncture. He should have known that his pair of tens was preposterously far behind. I reiterate that he was sans overcards, and was ostensibly drawing to a two-outer. Two cards to come give him an 11.6 percent chance to make trips, but his immediate pot odds were only 5-to-1 (a $160 call at an $810 pot), not to mention the fact that between my queens up and the premium pair in the No. 5 seat, he could wind up in all kinds of trouble by the time seventh street rolled around. Imagine the more likely scenario occurs, that he misses the magic card and merely makes two pair. Now, all he could do would be to sheepishly call $320 ($160 on fifth, $80 on sixth, and $80 on the river). I submit to you that he would be throwing away $320, and all because he did not "read the read."