To Slow-Play, or Not to Slow-Play: A Tale of Two Full Houses

Slow-playing is one of the most overrated and overused tactics in poker. If you have a good hand, you should want to get as much money in the pot as possible. While slow-playing may succeed in confusing your opponents or in making your hand look weaker than it is (although many times, slow-playing fails to achieve even this goal), it rarely results in a bigger pot than straightforward play would have.

With that indictment of slow-playing out of the way, I can admit that there is a time and place for slow-playing. But picking that time and place is not always easy. One common misconception is that it is correct to slow-play with only the biggest hands: straight flushes, quads, or top full houses. While it may be right to slow-play any of these holdings, the rank of the hand is only one of several factors that affect the decision. After all, why slow-play your quads if you think your opponent will call every bet and raise you make?



Therefore, it is important to look at all the information. The number of opponents, their playing styles, your position at the table, your position relative to the bettor (if there is one), and the presence or absence of likely draws on board all need to be taken into account.



Rather than give generic advice in an attempt to cover every possible slow-playing situation, I thought I'd relate two hands that I played in World Series of Poker events in which I had to decide whether or not to slow-play. I hope that thinking through the decisions I faced will help you think harder about how you play your big hands.



Hand No. 1: $2,500 pot-limit hold'em WSOP event. A well-known tournament player limped in from early position for $50, and I decided to limp in from the next seat with pocket fives and about $1,600 in my stack. The player behind me also limped in, and the two blinds came in, so we took the flop fivehanded. The flop brought two deuces and a glorious 5. There also were two hearts out there. The blinds checked to the well-known pro, who bet $200. I considered my options.



"When Matt starts thinking, I get worried," the pro said. This comment, of course, did not influence my decision. When there is so much else to think about, I don't waste time trying to decipher the table chatter of a professional.



I seriously considered raising. With two hearts on board, someone might've put me on a flush draw, or at the very least, a medium-strength hand that I had to protect. But there were several factors in favor of calling. First, there was no reason to think the pro had much of a hand. He was a loose-aggressive player who would've been inclined to take a stab at the pot with anything. Second, there were three players still to act. With so many opponents out there, a call on my part might've looked like a middle pair that didn't want to get trapped by a monster. If any of my three remaining opponents read it this way, there was a good chance that one of them would double me up. Finally, my stack size was such that I was likely to get all in if anyone else raised the pot, or even bet the turn, so I wasn't at much risk of missing a bet if I called.



I decided to call, not because I had a full house, but because of all those other factors. It worked out beautifully on this occasion. The player behind me made a pot-sized raise to $1,050, leaving himself with just $25. The blinds folded, and the pro called. I then moved in for about $500 more, and by this point, everyone was priced in, so both of my opponents called. The raiser had the A 6, the pro had A-7 offsuit, and I had them drawing very slim (yes, I won the hand).



Hand No. 2: $10,000 WSOP main event. An inexperienced player limped in from early position for $100, and I decided to limp in from two seats to his left with pocket sevens. I had about $10,000 in chips and my opponent had about $8,000. Everyone else folded to the big blind, a very tight player, who checked his option.



The flop came 7-4-4 with two spades, which was obviously fantastic for me. The big blind checked, and the early-position player bet $300. I looked at the big blind, and believed he would not be contributing any more to the pot.



In my opinion, the decision in this hand was easier than the decision in hand No. 1. I wasn't getting any money from the big blind no matter what, and my opponent was an inexperienced player who had shown interest in the pot. Players with these two characteristics are very unlikely to fold.



I raised to $800. The big blind folded, and the early-position player quickly called. The turn brought an offsuit 3. My opponent led out for $500 into the $1,950 pot. What now? Since he was still interested in the pot, I still didn't think he was going anywhere. I raised to $1,700. This time, he started thinking, but didn't disappoint me and called again.



The river brought an offsuit jack, and my opponent checked. At this point there was $5,350 in the pot, and my opponent had about that much in his stack. I thought about how much to bet. I considered betting half the pot (which was also half of my opponent's stack), which would offer my opponent 3-1 odds, whereas an all-in bet would offer 2-1 odds. But finally I decided that inexperienced players don't care too much about pot odds. Mostly, they call if they like their hand, and fold if they don't.



I set my opponent all in. He picked up his cards and looked at them, and I thought I had finally lost my customer. But when he put his cards down again without mucking them, I knew I had a chance. After only a few more seconds, my opponent said, "I call." I tabled my hand and he said, "Ooooh, I have two pair." And he tabled his J 10. While I was clearly fortunate to flop a full house in this hand against this particular opponent, I did very well to get all of his chips. Earning the maximum on your monsters is an underrated poker skill. If I had played differently on any street, my opponent almost certainly would not have busted out.



Some readers have told me they prefer reading about my hands that go well more than hands in which I get crushed by the likes of John Juanda. I hope they enjoyed this column, and I hope you give serious thought to not slow-playing the next time you make a big hand.



Matt Matros cashed twice in eight tries in this year's World Series of Poker, but unfortunately made no final tables. He is the author of The Making of a Poker Player, which is available online at http://www.cardplayer.com/.