Adjusting Your Expectations Amidst Extremely Bad Hold'em Play

It is very common (and can drive the good player somewhat crazy) for middle-limit hold'em games to take on a "here comes a big pot, I'm in no matter what" feel about them. In these phases, typically, a player or two will limp in, then a raise is made (by a legitimate strong hand), and the remaining players start drooling over the huge pot that's in the making. By the time the dust settles, there can easily be seven players poised to see the flop. In many instances, as well, you'll find a reckless player in the blind who gets a kick out of three-betting it with a hand as bad as 9-2. At this point, the pot is already rather huge.

The ensuing action with which we are all familiar is that we are the ones holding the legitimate hand (let's say pocket kings), the flop appears rather favorable (say, J 7 4) for our hand, yet no one, or maybe only one player, folds after we bet.

If the turn is any diamond or any card from a 3 to a jack, or the dreaded ace, of course, our kings could be instantly dethroned. Any card in that range potentially completes a straight or a flush, or gives a player trips, not to mention the totally unpredictable two-pair hands. That leaves us two kings (assuming we hold the K), three deuces, and maybe three queens (the 2 and Q are no good), although Q-J sure is a popular starting hand where I play. Everything else that might fall represents a threat of beating us.

The worst situation is when, for example, an offsuit deuce falls, it's again checked to us, we bet, and now a few stragglers fall but the reckless guy in the blind (holding 9-2, as you recall, and had the audacity to call the flop bet with no pair and no draw) decides to raise, having now made a pair of deuces. His move is suspect to us, but at this point, we've seen it all, so to speak, so we just call. Since the pot contains close to 40 bets, the gutshot draws are justified in hanging in. Another deuce falls on the river but, remarkably, no flushes or straights are possible. No overcards are on the board, and the pairing of the deuce could have possibly saved us from some wretched two-pair hand.

As expected, the blind bets and we decide to just call, since a raise serves no purpose. We don't want to chase out anyone holding two counterfeited pair, and if someone does hold a deuce, he's not about to fold for an extra bet on the end. Of course, we all know the inner horror that follows when we see the 9-2 that took down our kings.

The point of presenting this hand is, more than anything, to prepare you for what is common and likely to occur repeatedly in games of this nature. I used to be the type to recoil in absolute disgust when something such as this happened to me. I reacted so strongly because I really needed the money, and because I used to consider players this bad as worthless human beings. In a nutshell, I was an underfunded, arrogant, self-righteous poker player with a very one-dimensional life.

Since then, I have been saved! My thoughts now are different. Before, they were wrapped in cursing and condescension. I used to have deep disdain for players who messed with "my pots." These days, I have a more accurate feel for what is likely to occur when I take pocket kings against six others after three preflop bets. I will not win very often, probably just under 20 percent of the time. My opponents become blinded by the potential thrill of a big win, and I usually need a set to win. Oh well, that's the way it is.

I believe the downfall of lots of good players occurs due to the overinvestment of emotion in situations similar to the one described in this column. I have seen the same turmoil that I went through while learning to reach a point of profitability on the faces and in the mannerisms of countless good players. Here are my suggestions for overcoming this frustration:

• Accept reality and prepare for realistic outcomes.

Know that when playing a strong hand against three or more opponents, you will not win as often as you might think you should. Winning in these games requires a keen sense of when to dump a good hand, and noting if it is possible to affect the situation through betting behavior (that is, raising the turn to force better hands to fold under pressure).

• Have enough money that any one pot is not essential to win. Keep good records and know your hourly expectation.

Money awareness is absolutely huge, in my opinion. The game is as it is because there is money involved. Without the money, all of the charge is gone. People continue in or fold hands to win or avoid losing money. Why? Because money matters. If it matters too much (as it did to me when I first started playing seriously), one can feel personally slighted by the game. Doesn't that sound ridiculous? It sounds ridiculous, but it really felt that way to me.

When you have recorded at least 100 hours of play at a particular limit, you should see a fairly accurate representation of what you are earning per hour. This awareness puts a realistic perspective on each session. You stop groping for the big pots and begin making more consistent and detached decisions.

• Put consistent effort into developing other aspects of your life besides poker.

This was hard for me, since I was not the most social person out there. But I could have spared myself some dreary periods if I had stayed more involved in certain friendships and played a bit less poker, instead of shirking invitations to hang out with friends. It really is critical to arrive at the poker table in a fresh and focused mindset, feeling rested and excited to play (not too excited, but certainly not in a state of dread, either).

I remember when I used to drive to Los Angeles for tournaments from San Francisco, where I live. The live-action games felt much wilder and looser down south. Nowadays, with poker on TV, it's just as loose in the Bay Area. People are intoxicated by the action. See it and accept it. Winning at this game now more than ever requires real focus, commitment, and patience. I wish you the best!