No-Limit Hold'em Hand Analysis - Part II

In my last column, I began a blow-by-blow analysis of a no-limit hold'em hand that I played against fellow professional Brian Haveson at the Borgata Winter Poker Open. To recap, Brian opened for a raise from the cutoff seat and I called from the big blind with pocket fours. The flop came A-5-3 and I checked. (These first few decisions were analyzed in agonizing detail in the last column.) Brian bet $6,000 into a $7,400 pot. I had $33,000 left in front of me, and Brian had far more than that.



And now you're caught up. So, tell me, what should I do now?



If I check-raise to $15,000, what do I do if Brian moves in? The answer is, I'll be mad I check-raised to $15,000. I would be getting just slightly more than 3-1 on my money, and I'd be a 3-1 dog. I'd have to call, but I'd hate it. So, I rule that option out. Raising all in is a perfectly reasonable choice. In that case, Brian calls me with a good ace or a set, and folds everything else. The merits of moving in depend on which aces, if any, Brian will fold. At the time, it was my impression that Brian would've considered folding his worst aces, like A-6, A-7, and A-8. But he probably would've called with top pair and a gutshot, and probably would've made a crying call with A-9 or better.



Sitting there, however, I thought of an alternative to moving in. What if I called on the flop, and followed that up with a $12,000 bet on the turn? That accomplishes almost the same thing as an all in on the flop. The only difference is that I give him a shot to hit a two-outer if he has a pair between sixes and kings. I was willing to live with that risk. Then, if Brian moved me in on the turn (and I hadn't hit, of course), I could comfortably muck my hand, getting a little more than 3-1 with one card to come. I couldn't think of a turn card that would freeze me up and prevent me from following through with my plan. So, I decided to call the bet.



The turn was an offsuit king. Now why didn't I think of that card? The pot was $19,400, and I had $27,000 in my stack.



Question No. 5: Check or bet?

All the reasons I had to bet were still valid, except that the king could've easily hit Brian's hand, and he might've decided to get stubborn with something like K-Q, or even K-J or K-10. I think betting $12,000 here, as I originally planned to do, would've been a fine choice. But I also think that because the turn card hit a bunch of the hands in Brian's range, and because my bet could indeed put me in a position in which I'd have to fold to an all in while getting more than 3-1 (something I never like doing, even when I'm comfortable doing it), it made the choice between checking and betting a pretty close one. As I discussed a few columns back, when decisions are close in this game, I want to lean toward putting in the last (for example, all-in) raise. And finally, checking was free, and I would get to see Brian's next move.



So, although I thought betting would be OK, I checked. Brian quickly tossed out two $5,000 chips – betting $10,000 into the $19,400 pot.



Question No. 6: Fold, call, or move in?
To answer this question, we first must answer the question of what Brian's bet tells us about his hand. I hadn't played much with Brian before this tournament, so I couldn't claim to be an expert on how he plays. But most players wouldn't bet a weak ace on that turn card after their flop bet was called. The board had very few draws, so most players holding something like A-8 or A-9, or even A-10 to A-Q, would be content to check it back, induce a bluff on the river, and hope their hand was good. Most players betting $10,000 in this situation have a truly big hand, like aces up or a set, or are bluffing. Assuming that Brian followed this pattern, I actually liked my hand more, not less, after he bet the turn card.



Finally, I just didn't feel that Brian had a big hand. This is that "instinct" that nonmath guys talk about all the time. I'm not talking about a specific tell I could point to (because there wasn't one); I'm saying that if someone asked me to decide whether Brian had a hand, based just on my gut feeling, I would've said no. That's instinct. But I have no idea how good my instinct is. It's one of the things I'm trying to quantify as I advance in my poker career. At this time in my playing life, when I don't really know how good or bad my instinct is, I pretty much use instinct only to break ties in a decision. Here, I had a close decision, and the final vote was cast because (gasp!) I just didn't think Brian had a hand.



I didn't give much thought to calling. I didn't think there were any more bluffs to be induced, and I thought a check-raise here would look pretty damn strong – probably stronger than two check-calls followed by a desperation river bet. If, heaven forbid, Brian called my bet, I would have six outs to fall back on. That's what ran through my head as I shoved my last $27,000 into the pot.



"You make a set on me?" Brian asked. I didn't say anything. I used to try to outtalk everyone, like my mentor Russell Rosenblum. I've since learned that although I can gab it up in certain contexts, when I'm playing against good players, I generally just shut the hell up.



I thought Brian was going to make a crying call with an ace, but the next thing I knew, his cards were in the muck.



I'm no genius. This play did not necessarily have to work. Brian easily could've had a small set, or aces up, and this play would've looked like one of the worst plays anyone had seen at a poker table. Of course, when Brian folded, I looked like some kind of psychic. I'm not a psychic. I'm just willing to put my chips in whenever I think it's correct to do so, no matter what the outside world thinks. That willingness might be my greatest strength as a player.



You'll remember from my last column that I wrote this two-part series as a way to prepare myself for the L.A. Poker Classic. I ended up finishing 49th out of 692 players in that tournament. Unfortunately, that wasn't quite good enough to earn any money, as only 45 were paid. But I think writing this analysis helped get me ready for that event. And as my regular readers know, I don't play poker tournaments to finish 45th, anyway.

Matt Matros is the author of The Making of a Poker Player, which is available online at http://www.cardplayer.com/.