An Unbalanced Force

"She blinded me with science."

This isn't a column about physics or the industrial revolution. But, I was reading something about Isaac Newton recently; how he basically invented calculus, without which there could have been no industrial revolution in the 19th century, and the subsequent scientific and technological revolutions of the 20th century. Of course, we might argue whether the industrial revolution and its descendents were a good thing. But for now, let's focus on Mr. Newton. In particular, consider his First Law of Motion:

"An object at rest tends to stay at rest and an object in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force."

And this is where poker appears. Poker players are creatures of inertia. Some of them tend to be in motion all the time: bet, raise, raise, bet. Others are at rest: call, call, call. And many of them even believe that the cards and their luck have similar physical properties: "I'm running bad." "I'm on a rush." It's as if there's some gravitational force pulling their cards in one direction or another.

But wait, let's review that last phrase of Mr. Newton's First Law: " … unless acted upon by an unbalanced force." And this is where good poker starts. You must be an unbalanced force. That is, you have to create acceleration to push the outcome of a hand in the desired direction (noting that acceleration can be negative – that is, slowing things down).

Most of you who read about (as opposed to just "play") poker know about the idea of changing gears. Maybe you decide you're going to raise two out of three hands for the next two orbits of the button. You're going to persuade these guys that you're a sandwich short of a full picnic, and then settle back into your normal game and reap the benefits of showing them only the best hand. Or, maybe you're going to fold everything except Group One hands for the next 30 minutes. You'll have the whole table sure that you're pure granite, and then start raising with 5-3 suited and see what happens.

But let's look at a microcosmic perspective. You can actually change gears in the middle of a hand, and this oftentimes is not only the best thing to do, but pretty confusing to your opponent. The classic example of this is a play called the "stop and go." Here are two examples from two very different aspects of the poker world:

Situation No. 1: I was playing in a $20-$40 hold'em game recently, and called half a bet from the small blind with A-4. There were four or five players already in the pot, and I was getting a good price to flop a miracle. Well, I flopped 80 percent of a miracle: Q-5-2 with two hearts. I didn't want to pay any more than I had to for a turn card, so I checked. An early-position player bet out, two players called, and I called, thinking of a single card – the 3, which tumbled neatly to the felt on the turn. I checked again, planning to check-raise the entire field, but the flop bettor surprised me by checking. Fortunately, a very tough player, Rich, bet from late position. Phew. The flop bettor's play looked for all the world like a flush draw, so I decided that he was going to pay full price for his draw, and I check-raised Rich. The first bettor surprisingly folded, as did the others, and it was back to Rich. This is when things got interesting: Rich three-bet. Rich isn't a maniac; he doesn't three-bet because of alpha particles or sunspots. And he knows that I don't, either. So, Rich had a real hand. Could he have 6-4? He just might have limped in with 6-4 suited from late position. Or, what if he had the A 4 and was freerolling me? The other problem I had was that if I reraised and Rich had 6-4, he would promptly five-bet me and I would hate that, because folding was out of the question.

So, I called, planning to bet the river if no terrifying card came. The river card was a complete rag, and I slid out eight chips. Rich stopped for a moment (I think the "stop and go" surprised him), and then shook his head and called. Sure enough, he'd flopped a set of fives – about the weakest hand he would have played as he did. By using the stop-and-go play, I got good action on my hand (four big bets on the turn and river) without costing myself six big bets if I was beaten.

Situation No. 2: In a no-limit hold'em tournament, it is often correct to do a stop and go, although it's a very different kind of thing. Suppose you have fared poorly in a tournament, are down to $1,200, and must post a $300 big blind. It is folded to the small blind (the chip leader), who raises the minimum, to $600. You look down and discover that you have pocket sixes. This hand is clearly strong enough to make a final stand, but how you make that final stand can change the outcome. The instant response most of us have is to shove in all remaining $900 and say, "OK, let's gamble." Of course, you'll be called, and if your opponent has two overcards, you have a virtual coin flip. Oftentimes, however, a better way to play is to call (stop) and then push in your last remaining $600 on the flop regardless of what it is (go). If your opponent didn't pair on the flop, he may fold to your bet, and you don't have to sweat out the turn and river cards. Of course, if he outflopped you, he will call and you'll be busted – but that was going to happen anyway if you'd jammed preflop.

These two stop-and-go plays are very different, but they are similar in that they require you to think about yourself as an unbalanced force, even during the play of a hand. Who would have thought of Isaac Newton as a poker theorist?

"She blinded me with science."

Lee Jones is the author of the best-selling book Winning Low Limit Hold'em, and is the poker room manager for PokerStars.com.