Feeling the Pinch

Author's note: The hand actually did go down as described, with myself, the other players, as well as the dealer all missing that we used the incorrect pre-flop bet amounts on my raise.



In Bellagio's Festa al Lago IV $1,000 buy-in no-limit hold'em event, with the blinds at $500-$1,000 and a $100 ante, we were steadily approaching the final 50 players – the cash payday – from a field of more than 450 players, and I was sitting pretty at around $19,000 in chips. I was comfortable, picking my spots well, and basically floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee. Then out of nowhere, this black vortex of a hand dropped in on me and took the wind out of my sails. Now, it didn't actually put me out of the tournament, but it is such an interesting hand that I wanted to give you a peek at all of the angles of it.



With the blinds and antes, right off the bat there was $2,400 in the pot. The gentleman in second position had been on life-support for some time, and decided this was his moment to make a move. "All in," he barked as he shoved his disheveled stack into the pot. Upon first examination, it appeared that he had put in only about $2,200. I looked down into the eyes of the K, which was saddled to the A. It was not a bad starting hand, to be sure, but here is where all of the confusion began.



I decided to raise, which was obviously the right move. The question was, what was the correct amount to raise?



I decided that a total bet of $6,000 should do the trick. After all, anyone who wanted to play the hand would have to pay the steep price of six times the big blind. By "regular" standards, this would be considered a small raise, barely more than double the initial raise, but I was taking into consideration the six-times factor. I did contemplate raising more, but thought this would be sufficient.



We had a wild card in the equation, though, and as it turned out, the early-position player had more chips than what was apparent to me initially. He actually had made it around $3,200 to go, instead of what I had thought was $2,200. The dealer gathered in all of his chips and proceeded to count and stack them. The action hadn't moved past me, but I had already put my $6,000 into the pot. The second question was this: Did the extra $1,000 in chips change anything, and should/would I have raised more?



When his chips were counted up, I did want to raise more, to about $8,000 or $9,000, to get into a heads-up situation with him. Of course, I didn't have enough in the pot yet for a legal raise, as I hadn't doubled his $3,200 bet. So, unfortunately, I was not allowed to put in a substantial amount more, as it would be ruled a string bet. Nuts – and not the good kind! I did however need to put in another $400, bringing the total to $6,400 to go for those acting behind me.



The fact of the matter was that a more substantial raise probably wouldn't have made any difference most of the time. Anyone who was willing to call a raise of six times the big blind with one all-in player and one player coming over the top of the first player was probably going to play for nine times the big blind, as well. In this particular instance, though, it was difficult to determine what would happen.



The action rolled around to Thom Werthmann, who was in the big blind. He thought for quite a while and I knew this posed a problem for me. I put him on a hand like nines, tens, or, if I was lucky, A-Q, and assumed he was deciding if he wanted to reraise or not, or possibly even move in. Thom had $26,000 in chips, so he had me covered.



The thing about the situation was that I desperately wanted Thom to raise me all in. And maybe I even needed him to do so to keep me alive in the hand if an ace or king didn't flop. I certainly would have called in a second, had he done so. As it stood, though, my having position on Thom for the rest of the hand was actually a disadvantage, as I knew that if the flop came all rags, he would move in immediately, effectively squeezing me out of the hand.



As it shook out, Thom decided to just call, making the pot about $17,400. This was quite a huge pot at this point in the tournament. The flop came down 9 3 2, which was a disaster for me. I hadn't connected in any way, and there was still a good chance of being pushed out of this pot.



I already knew his move before he made it. "All in," Thom called out. He had me covered, so I was basically deciding whether I wanted my A-K to take me to the promised land or send me to the grave. I had an extremely difficult decision to make. The pot was huge, and if I won it, I would catapult up to more than $40,000 in chips and really have a shot to win the event.



Let's take a look from an odds perspective: I was getting slightly less than 2.5-1 odds on my money, but thought I would definitely need to hit either an ace or king on one of the last two cards to take down the pot. The odds of that were 3.1-1.



I also had to take into consideration that I had put about one-third of my chips into the pot already. Despite the fact that the odds didn't seem to be in my favor, was this the hand I needed to go with? I was also factoring in whether or not Thom had hit a set of nines on the flop, based on my initial read of his hand. I eventually decided that this was incredibly unlikely, based on how he played the hand after the flop. As it turned out, after much deliberation, I begrudgingly folded.



Thom turned up the J J, and the all-in player held the K Q. So, that was a good laydown, right? Oh, no, my friends, this is poker, and every time you make a laydown like I did, it will come back to bite you, and every time you go with that hand there, you will be punished. It has been decreed by the poker gods; you just can't win.



The turn brought the K, and the river added unnecessary insult to my injury in the form of the A. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 – er, $40,000 in chips.



I took a sip from my water bottle, put it down, and dragged Thom outside to beat the hell out of him. I'm just kidding, of course; I only broke a few of his fingers.



In reality, Thom's deft decision not to reraise preflop saved him from losing about $13,000 more, kept the all-in player from being knocked out of the tournament, and severely dampened my chances of making a deep run. I thought he had played it perfectly, as he greatly increased his chances of winning the hand by pushing me out.



I went out a short time later, on the bubble (51st), and was left lamenting this hand. Should I have raised more initially? I certainly would have done so had there not been the confusion about the first player's chip count. Should Thom have pushed in preflop? That was a tough decision. This time, it ended up saving him some money. Should I have called with my A K after the flop, having so much invested equity in the pot already? I don't think so, but it's possible. Sometimes you just have to go with a hand after you have invested a good portion of your stack. There certainly are many players who would have done so.



I think the most frustrating aspect of the hand was that I could see it unfolding as Thom was mulling over what to do. I knew how the hand was going to play out, and I was powerless to stop it at that point. Whatever he decided, I had to react to it, instead of being the one calling the shots – and I hate not being the one calling the shots.



All in all, it was an extremely interesting hand, and one that we discussed at the table for a while afterward. Thom's decision proved to be the right one for that exact moment, and unfortunately I was the one who was hurt the most by it.



Joe loves to receive all of your questions and comments. You can reach him at [email protected], and can read all of his past columns at www.barrygreenstein.com under the "joepoker" link.