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What Are You Hoping For?

by Andrew Shykofsky |  Published: Sep 10, 2004

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I have something to share, and some people won't like it. Hoping to get lucky in poker is a strategy for failure. Hoping for anything, in fact, reveals that you haven't reached a level where you can make a respectable profit playing poker. Allow me to elaborate.

When you hope, you are generally too involved emotionally. When you are too involved emotionally, you are destined to make bad decisions, because more often than not, decisions made in the throws of emotion are governed by fear and pride. This applies to most everyday decisions, whether they be at the card table or not. People very often react when they are caught up in a charged situation and later find themselves trying to explain the damage and/or apologize for what they have done to someone in their lives. Unfortunately, when the damage is done and you have cast away more money than you should have in a poker hand, there is no benefit to offering an explanation.

In a hand I recently played, I was dealt pocket aces in late position. As is customary in California games, my raise was basically given little or no respect, even though I had been careful to craft a very tight image. I got six callers, but was fortunate to secure the optimum position by raising out the two players between me and the button.

The flop came down 10clubs 9diamonds 9hearts. In a seven-way pot, this flop was absolutely horrible. The small blind came out firing without hesitation. This player, I had noted, was not tricky and had been playing tight. By the time the action got to me, all players had folded except the one to my right, who raised. I stopped and considered the following:

"It feels like the small blind has a 9 and the raiser has either a big 10 or an open-end straight draw and is trying to squeeze me out, putting me on A-K." In these middle-limit games, everyone usually assumes you have A-K whenever you raise before the flop, which gives you an idea of the sophistication of your opposition.

"I don't think three-betting is wise, since there is a decent chance I'm in big trouble. Currently, there are 17 bets in the pot (seven preflop callers for two bets each, plus the flop bet and the raise), giving me 19-to-2 pot odds. I will call and see what develops."

The small blind reraised, and did so with an air about him that suggested he thought his lead-out bet was disrespected. Now, I was certain he had a 9. The middle opponent called, and now I was getting 23-to-1 pot odds, which justified drawing to see if an elusive ace might make a surprise appearance on the turn.

It didn't. Another 9 peeled off, and the leader came out strong. The other guy called the bet, and – stop everything! What do most people do at this precise moment? They say, "I have a full house! I have to call." That's emotion, and it leads to lost bucks.

Based on my observation of the small blind, I strongly believed the only hand he could have that would support these actions was one with a 9, even though the appearance of another 9 made that less likely. This is the knowing that replaces hoping. If I decide to call him down here, I absolutely have to call him down on the river. Why? By doubting my own intuition and continuing with this hand when it is so clear to me that I am beat, I might as well show some integrity and keep doubting myself all the way to the end. If I call on the turn, betraying my intuition, and then muck on the end, I really have no shot at making a consistent profit. I obviously would have zero trust in my ability to act in such a disjointed way.

The clear choice is to take a moment, recognize the glaring fact that I am beat, and release the aces – which, thankfully, I did. And even though I never got to see the 9 in his hand, since his lone opposition didn't call him down, I escaped with minimal emotional disruption. I certainly don't profess to be beyond any disappointment, but I can say with certainty that I played the hand in full congruence with myself.

This is why being informed of probabilities is beneficial. Doyle Brunson teaches that big pairs win about half the time. In fact, when you are routinely facing more than three opponents with a wired pair (of queens or better), it's less than half the time. This knowledge lowers your expectations and likelihood of disappointment.

Hoping is one expression of not trusting. When you trust (yourself, your skill, your knowledge, and so on), there is no need to hope, because you know a profit is guaranteed eventually. What leads to not trusting is either a lack of preparation or a lack of capital, both of which erode confidence. Don't consider this path if you are lacking in these areas. Consider preparing better and playing at a level where the money, if lost, barely registers. spades