My Biggest Pet Peeve: The Dry Side Pot Bluff - Part I

Let me start this column by saying that I don't normally share too much strategy information in my columns, but I just have to get this off my chest. I mean, I can handle 900 consecutive one-outers just fine, but I completely lose my mind when I'm bluffed out of a dry side pot. (If you aren't aware of what a dry side pot is, it is a side pot with no chips in it and at least one unbluffable player already vying for the main pot.)

When I wrote this column, it was already three days past my editor's deadline (sorry, Steve), so I thought I'd share with you the events of that evening, as well as some valuable tournament information when dealing with an all-in player. Here we go:

I'm down to the last three tables of the $500 buy-in Omaha high-low split tournament at the L.A. Poker Classic, after surviving several all-in battles when we were just one away from the money. With 25 players left, I've almost made a full recovery and have an average stack with $9,000 in chips (the blinds are $500-$1,000). With first place paying $47,000, I'm really psyched up about my chances (as Omaha high-low is my favorite tournament game).

Then, this happens: One player limps in for the $1,000 and another player goes all in for $1,500, which is called by the player in the cutoff seat. I'm in the small blind with the Au Ku K™ 8´. It's not a monster hand, but I certainly can't fold for another $1,000. I call. The big blind is all in, also, leaving just three live players and two who are all in. The flop comes Q™ J™ 8™. Obviously, I don't have much of a hand in this spot. Any flush, straight, or two pair has me beat. I check, as do the other two players.

Now I'm thinking, hmm I just might have the best hand of the three live players, but there is still a good chance that one of the all-in players can beat a pair of kings. The turn is the Qu, a good card for my hand (provided no one has made three queens). Still, I check, as does the early-position limper.

It's now up to the cutoff, a well-mannered, kind gentleman whom I'd met in Costa Rica earlier in the year. Anyway, he is just learning high-low poker, as evidenced by the Sklansky/Malmuth/Zee high-low poker book that's open in his lap. He literally spent the entire tournament highlighting phrases in yellow, and dabbing other words with red circles, squares, and all kinds of other signs. He rarely looked up to see what was going on, unless of course he was actually in a hand.

Anyway, he fires out $2,000, which is usually a bat signal in this spot, as in, "I have you beat, boys; I'll take care of the all-in guys." So, with that, I have an easy fold with my pair of kings. It would have been nice to catch a free king on the river, but that's OK, my good buddy's got at least three queens and he'll take care of 'em. The other live player also folds, so it's time to see the goods.

The first all-in player turns over the A´ Ju 3´ 4®. OK, he's drawing dead, we're down to 24. The next player turns over the A™ 3® 5u 9´. All right! We are down to 23 - or not. My "buddy" turns over the A® 2® 2´ 4´! When the river brings the 9u, this ruthless, cruel, and mean man wins a grand total of zero in the side pot, but manages to keep both of the other players alive - not to mention the fact that he cost me a $5,500 pot, which would have almost doubled me up!

Right about then was when I completely lost my mind. I swear I was "Phil Hellmuth" at that moment. Phil's an emotional guy, and when he loses a pot that he thinks he "deserved" to win, he usually has a few choice words for the onlookers. "They keep doing this to me," he'll say after having queens beaten by A-9 offsuit. "I keep getting my money in as a 4-to-1 favorite (4-to-1 just sounds better), and they try to give me their chips! That's all right, though, that's why I have seven - count 'em, seven - bracelets!"

So, here I am doing my Phil impression. "Oh, no! What have you done to me? You've ruined my chances of winning this tournament!"

"What happened, Daniel?" asks one of the railbirds.

"You wouldn't believe it. This cruel man over there, the one doing his homework at the table, must have skipped over the section on tournament strategy!"

Now, I know I shouldn't whine, as stuff like this happens from time to time. People have mental blocks, while others just might not understand the dynamics of the situation. Hopefully after you have read this column, you'll understand how and when you should bet dry side pots. I'll get to that later, though.

I went broke soon thereafter, and the gentleman (he really is a gentleman, not a mean, cruel, ruthless man … but at the time, cruel and ruthless seemed more appropriate) who bet the turn now had more than $40,000 in chips. I couldn't help but glare at those chips and think, "Ah, what might have been."

So, I call up a couple of friends to rant and rave about my misfortune. (I'm sure all of my friends love the idea of my sharing my horrible luck with them, as it makes for such stimulating conversation, don't you think?) I go to the podium to collect my prize money, which appears to be, oh, about $46,230 short, and then steam off to go to the Wyndham Hotel.

On the way out, I manage to share my story with the 300 or so people playing in the top section, until finally there is no one left to tell. (Why is it that we feel the need to share information with complete strangers who couldn't care less what happened to us? Ah, we'll save that burning question for another day.)

I jump in my car, drive over a couple of curbs at about 112 mph, and arrive at the Wyndham in 3.47 seconds. I head to my room and immediately turn on my computer (after all, there are probably several other people playing at PokerStars who really need to hear my story, don't you think?).

Then, it hits me: I can't find my cell phone. Arrrgh! I check all around the room and in the car. There's no sign of my brand-new, sleek, silver dual band anywhere. "Not only did that guy cost me the tournament, he also caused me to lose my mind, and my phone, too!"

I proceeded to make seven trips from the Wyndham to Commerce Casino and back - and there was still no sign of my phone. I was suspicious of everyone. Anyone with a phone that looked remotely similar to mine became a suspect. Hmm. "How long have you had that phone, ma'am?"

"Oh, my dear grandson bought it for me on my 76th birthday last year. What a good boy."

"Hmm, really? You wouldn't happen to have a receipt now, would you?"

"Of course not, it was a gift."

"Let me see that phone, grandma!"

At that point it was clear that I'd gone nuts. At least I wasn't mad at the guy who bluffed me anymore, as I was too steamed about my phone. I've never lost a phone.

After an hour of searching, I gave up and headed for bed. Just minutes later, I got a call in my room: "We found your phone. It was right where you said you left it. Someone found it and handed it to security."

Ah, what a relief. Now, all of a sudden, being mad about the tournament seemed silly, as I still had my precious phone. Now in a much better mood, I decided to turn the evening's events from a negative to a positive. "At least I've got material for a column," I thought - and here we are. Oh, wait, wasn't there some valuable information that I was supposed to share with y'all? Oh, now I remember, tournament strategy when dealing with an all-in player. I've rambled far too much for one column, I think, so let's tackle that in the next issue, cool?

Editor's note: Daniel can be reached through his website: www.fullcontactpoker.com. There, you can also find Daniel's biweekly diary, which is similar to what appeared in this column.