After the
World Series of Poker, I decided to head out of the Vegas heat for California with my family. One of the luxuries of Vegas life is its proximity to the tourist attractions of Southern California. It also enabled me to visit my favorite place to play, Commerce Casino.
One disadvantage I find when playing in a new environment is that I give up "home-field advantage." Although Vegas poker constantly has new faces coming and going, generally, I know the styles of most of the regulars. When I play elsewhere, I find myself asking myself questions about players and situations to which my honest answer is, "I don't know." The plays I make in those situations have much less value than those in which I have knowledge of the players.
I was playing $40-$80 limit hold'em in a fired-up game with opponents who appeared unsophisticated. A couple of players called preflop when a player raised. An opponent behind the raiser called and I looked down to see the Q
J
in the small blind. It's a hand with which I prefer to have several opponents, as it has potential to make a big hand, one to which my opponents likely will be drawing dead. I called the extra $60 and we took the flop off fivehanded for $80.
The flop hit me right between the eyes, 10
9
8
. Not only did I flop the nut straight, but the board was rainbow, strengthening my hand. I led right into the field, thinking I could get high volume with a connected board and four opponents. It was the kind of board of which lots of opponents might have a piece - and the type of field that was prone to peel a turn card with as little as overcards.
Two players called the $40, and the last player - who had called the preflop raise cold - raised, exuding confidence. I generally don't slow-play straights on the flop because the texture of the board is likely to generate action anyway. But here, a slow-play seemed to hold higher value than most flopped-straight situations. I thought many of my opponents might be drawing very thin or dead. Lots of cards could give an opponent a second-best hand that might enable me to get multiple bets in with volume on the turn. I also thought the player who was last to act had a big hand and I might be able to induce a turn raise from him by playing my hand weakly. I flat-called the $40.
A terrible turn card, the 10
, made trips for anyone who held top pair and put a diamond draw out there. I fired $80 into the pot. The player to my immediate left, who handled his chips and cards in a very unsophisticated way, hesitated and then called my bet. I thought he was contemplating folding. While this player thought, the post-flop raiser picked up a stack of chips and made it obvious that he planned to raise. His excitement seemed real to me, and I began to question whether my hand was good. The field folded to Mr. Excited, who raised before the player in front of him folded.
What should I do? Was my hand good? I didn't know! The guy obviously loved his hand, but did he have the sophistication to know the value of a hand? He sure didn't seem very experienced. I knew that I didn't want to fold - as there was more than enough chance I was leading. He could have flopped a straight or made three tens and was overvaluing his hand. Then again, he might have filled up. I weighed the variables. If my hand was good, I didn't want to let the opponent behind me draw, nor lose an extra bet from Mr. Excited. But if my hand wasn't good, I didn't want to reraise Mr. Excited and get four-bet by a better hand. I didn't think I could get away from my hand if he four-bet. I didn't know his playing style well enough to know if he was overplaying an inferior hand to mine or was holding a superior one.
I thought about what the player behind me might hold. Three tens? He wouldn't have been so reluctant to call. I didn't think he held a flush draw - as he wouldn't have thought for so long. A pocket pair or a hand with an 8 or 9 gave him four outs, which would make calling a single bet correct against a straight, but calling two bets cold incorrect. A straight draw? Possibly.
That thought swayed my thinking; I chose to flat-call Mr. Excited and let the player behind me in, unconcerned that I was giving him an opportunity to draw out, because I did not think the overall range of hands with which he would call would be getting correct odds from the pot, and I didn't want to take the risk of getting in two more bets if I was dead to Mr. Excited. The player behind me called, and we took the river threehanded.
An ugly card came, the 8
, putting two pair on the board. I checked and my opponents checked behind me.
"I have a straight," stated Mr. Excited, showing down J-7 offsuit.
"I have a full house," said my opponent whom I had chosen not to blow out on the turn. He showed down the 8
7
, having flopped a pair and a straight draw that couldn't win, needing a 6 or a jack. I cussed myself out for not raising, therefore letting the 8
7
draw to the full house. Since he had four outs against two straights, his call in that situation happened to be correct. Mr. Excited was bemoaning his bad beat.
I examined my play in retrospect. Sure, I would have liked to have stacked the chips, but I didn't think I'd made an incorrect play. You must think in terms of expectation against your opponents' ranges of hands rather than the dollar value of the bet. By flat-calling, I had reduced my exposure to Mr. Excited if he had me beat, and the value for that compensated for the loss of edge against the opponent with the 8
7
who was drawing correctly.
I made the best play that I could with the information that I had to work with - and that's all I can ever ask of myself. So, I then did what I always do - played the next hand to the best of my ability!
Roy Cooke has played more than 60,000 hours of pro poker and has been part of the I-poker industry since its beginnings. His longtime collaborator, John Bond, is a freelance writer in South Florida.
