Queens and Nines in the $1,500 World Series of Poker Seven-Card Stud Tournament

I played a hand recently at the World Series of Poker that I'd like to share with you, including the bizarre circumstances, my thought process during the hand, and the end result.

With 19 players left and 16 places being paid, it didn't look like I'd have much chance of cashing, as I was either the shortest or second-shortest stack. That wasn't always the case, though. With 24 players left, I was actually the chip leader by a nose, but a missed flush draw and cracked aces put me in the doghouse.

The structure for the event featured a small ante relative to the limit, which turned out to be a great benefit to the short stacks. Playing $600-$1,200 limit, the ante was only $100 and the bring-in $200. So, with approximately $7,000 in chips, I knew I could wait patiently for the right hand to come along at those prices, which is precisely what I did. I got anted down to $5,400 before I finally picked up a big wired pair and was fortunate enough to double up.

With 17 players remaining, all of the short stacks kept winning and the hand-for-hand play seemed to last forever before someone finally went broke. When we got down to 16 players (two tables of eight), I had made a little recovery and was up to approximately $12,500, and was feeling good about my play and my chances. Then, this hand occurred:

Huck Seed (an excellent, aggressive stud player) raised from early position with the Q as his doorcard. Everyone folded to me, and I also had a queen doorcard. I looked down and found Q-9 in the hole, and with no aces or kings on the board, I went ahead and reraised Huck's probable steal attempt. As I did, Huck said, "Good play," with a grin on his face, as if to say, "You caught me."

There were still three players left to act behind me, the 2 bring-in and a couple of 8 doorcards that didn't seem all that threatening. The first 8 folded, but the second 8 began studying. He took more time than normal, which made me curious. Is he really thinking of calling with dead eights? Hmm … or maybe he has three hearts. Well, if he does, I welcome him, as there are already three hearts out, making it less likely that he'd complete the flush.

I'd played with this player all day (we'll call him Player X from now on), and if he had A-A, K-K, or 8-8 in the hole, I would expect him to forcefully raise it right away. His studying seemed genuine, but, of course, I couldn't be certain. Finally, after close to 45 seconds, he called. Huck quickly mucked his hand, so it was heads up going to fourth street:

Player X: (X-X) 8 7

Me: (Q 9) Q 9

Sweet, I thought. Even if Player X was slow-playing A-A or K-K, I now had him beat with two pair. By this point, the limits were up to $1,500-$3,000, so it looked like a nice opportunity to win a big pot. There was Huck's initial raise in there ($1,500), the bring-in and antes ($2,100), as well as $3,000 apiece put in by Player X and me, for a total of $9,600. So, I wasn't going to mess around with the hand; I bet right out, $1,500.

To my surprise, Player X quickly raised me! Could he really be slow-playing A-A or K-K? Based on what I knew of him – no way! Could he have two pair, eights and sevens? Possibly, but that would still be great for me, as one of his eights was already dead, leaving him only three outs. Or – what if he hit a hidden set with buried sevens?

I took a moment to count my chips to see if there was any way that I could play this hand to the river without going totally broke. If I reraised him, I'd have $4,800 left. I decided I was going all the way with this hand no matter what, so I might as well save some time and get the money in now. I reraised, and Player X called. Then came fifth street:

Player X: (X-X) 8 7 8

Me: (Q 9) Q 9 2

Uh-oh, this could be trouble. Player X bet $3,000 and I noticed that he had only $600 left, making it an automatic call for me … or did it? I mean, what does this guy have? Would he really call a double raise with dead eights or buried sevens? Hmm; let me think about this for a moment. Wait! What if he started the hand with the 10 9 in the hole for 8 9 10? That didn't seem right. When he raised me on fourth street, I picked up a tell on him. He wasn't on a draw; he thought he had the best hand when he raised, that I was pretty sure of. Then, I looked back at my holecards and noticed that I had the 9, making that starting hand impossible for him to have. OK, let's rule out that possibility.

Sigh, what to do, what to do. If I fold my hand, I'll still have $4,800, and with these cheap antes, I will still have enough to make a comeback. What if I'm wrong? What if he has something like J-J or 9-9 in the hole? How crucial a mistake would that be?

So, finally, I come to the conclusion that I just can't fold this hand. He probably has me beat, but there is a reasonable chance that my hand is good, and I could always hit a queen or one of two remaining nines for a full house if I'm wrong.

(Before I go any further, after the hand was over, I asked several excellent stud players what they thought the correct play was in the situation I described, and I received a unanimous, "You gotta call him. There are too many hands he could have.")

They are right, I pretty much have to call, but something in my gut told me he had me. I knew he had me. Heck, maybe my initial read was wrong and he was capable of slow-playing A-A or K-K? And he easily could have called with buried sevens. So, despite all of the logic that brought me to the conclusion that I had to call him, my gut told me I was beat – I folded.

After studying the hand for what seemed like five minutes, I finally decided that he had 8-7 in the hole. He studied on third street for so long because he thought I read Huck for a steal and was pulling a resteal.

He'd just played at a fivehanded table for more than an hour, so he probably hadn't adjusted to the ring game we were in now.

On fourth street he raised me, and I believed that he thought he had me beat. On fifth street when the 8 hit him, he almost jumped out of his chair and fired $3,000 toward the center. The toughest part of it all for me was knowing that I'd have to go to bed that night thinking, what if he didn't have it? What if my two pair was the best hand?

Luckily, Player X turned his hand faceup so that I could sleep with a clear conscience; he showed me a full house, eights full of sevens. I felt like I had new life, and that I was about to get rewarded for my laydown. Unfortunately, this is no Cinderella story. I proceeded to ante myself all the way down to the felt – literally. I was finally forced all in for the bring-in, and finished a disappointing 13th.

If someone had described this situation to me, I would have said that he'd have to call, as there is too much money in the pot and there are too many ways he could be wrong here. So, what's the moral of the story?

Only the player has all of the necessary information available to make difficult decisions like this. If you find yourself in a similar situation, take your time. Go over all of the possibilities in your head. Work out the pot odds based on the possible holdings you've come up with. But ultimately, when it's all said and done and you aren't sure what to do, go with your instincts. You'll be surprised how often your subconscious mind comes up with the right play even when logic dictates otherwise.

(On a side note, I believe this to be one of T.J. Cloutier's biggest strengths. He has enough faith in his instincts that he is capable of making plays that appear to defy logic. It's tough to argue with the most successful tournament player in poker history.)

Daniel can be reached through his website:

www.fullcontactpoker.com.