Quick on the Draw

Everyone knows that when you flop a flush draw, you have nine outs to make your draw, assuming that you have two of the suit in hand. But what if you have zero of the suit in hand? Then you have 11 outs, yeah? Of course, that's 11 outs to a hand that you don't happen to have, but this is a mere technicality! Ignore it, and you can use the concept of phantom outs to generate profit, and a profitable image, even when you're playing out of position.

You just have to be quick on the draw.

Consider this situation: You're in the big blind in a no-limit hold'em game. Everyone folds around to the button, who makes the standard real-estate raise to three times the big blind. The small blind folds, and now it's on you. Your hand isn't much, and you'd certainly be justified in folding, but that's going to leave you looking weak, and who wants to look weak? The problem is that you're trying to protect a bad hand out of position, and also trying to protect your weak position against future attack. To solve this problem, embrace the concept of phantom outs. Have a plan for the hand that's flop-dependent -and dependent on the fact that you get to act first.

Now, conventional wisdom tells us that it's better to act last than first because you have the benefit of more information. In this case … not so much. Here, you're less interested in getting information than in giving it. By acting first, you get to be first to tell the story of the hand. If you tell it persuasively, you can steal the pot right there, or set up a steal on later streets.

So, let's say the flop comes J 6 2, the perfect flop for your plan for the hand. Are you ready to execute? OK, here goes. First, recognize that most of the time, the button missed the flop, because - as I'm sure you know - two-thirds of the time, everyone misses the flop. Next, remember that most people in your position would check, because mostly that's what out-of-position players do: They check, gather more information, and then decide how to proceed. Therefore, any bet you make here looks stronger - scarier - than one you'd make in position. Third, ask yourself what size bet you would make if you were actually on a flush draw. I'd go about half the pot, hoping to draw cheap. So that's what I'm going to bet here.

Now, three possible things can happen. Your foe could fold, which is great, not just in winning you the pot but in buffing up your don't mess with my blind image. Your foe could raise, which is not so good, and in as much as you're on a naked steal, you might have to let the hand go. Much of the time, for such is the nature of things, your foe will call along behind, since he gets to see a cheap turn card, too, and who doesn't love a bargain?

When the turn card comes off the deck, look for it to hit your phantom flush, and be prepared to bet if it does. Remember, you're telling a story, and the story here is, "I made my hand." You likely wouldn't bet huge if you'd actually connected; rather, you'd make a Hoover bet, designed to suck your foe deeper into the pot. So that's what you make here, a smallish bet that encourages a call. Your crafty foe will, of course, see through this subterfuge. Why? Because he remembers your half-pot bet on the flop, and now he knows you're on a draw that got there. Ain't storytelling a wonderful thing? He mucks, you win, and life is good.

Of course, most of the time, the turn card won't complete your phantom flush, and you must proceed with caution if you miss. Either check or bet small again, like you're still pushing your draw. Keep your story consistent. If you get to look at the river cheap or for free, you'll have another chance to hit, value-bluff as before, and take down the pot.

Yes, yes, I know: Most of the time, the flush never arrives, and then it looks like you're stuck on a busted draw. Actually, you're stuck on a busted draw bluff, which is even worse. But don't forget that you have two cards in your hand, two cards entirely unrelated to your phantom outs. Did they hit? Are they good enough to take the pot - especially from a foe who thinks you've been chasing a draw that missed? Call this a "backdoor real-hand draw." Add your real outs to your phantom outs and you realize that you've got outs all up and down the deck.

Plus, you've got all of your free outs when the other guy folds.

There's a saying where I come from: The second liar never has a chance. Though it's tough to play hold'em out of position, it's something you can do successfully, especially against a single foe, if you know what kind of flops to look for and what opportunities they present.

Be prepared to tell the first story, for example, on a board that comes with all three cards in suit. If you bet first into a fully flushed board, what are you saying to the other guy? That your hand is so strong, you don't even care about position. And if the other guy happens not to have one of the top cards in suit - which most of the time he won't - he'll almost reflexively fold. In his mind, you might already have a made hand, and even if you don't, you're probably drawing to a better flush. Having bet the flop, you've telegraphed your intention to bet the turn and river, so he can rightly fear taking heat on later streets. In the name of not getting involved in a tricky situation, he'll muck his hand - anything from a medium flush draw on down - without much thought. He thinks he's living to fight another day. What he's really doing is handing you a free pot. Good times.

Another example of this is the so-called orphan flop, something like 7-7-2. It's unlikely that anyone has a piece of this forsaken waif, so it'll likely go to the first person who bets. Be the first. Adopt the orphan - whether you can give it a good home or not. Can you think of other situations where betting first into certain flops gives your last-acting foe an easy decision to fold? Here's one: a highly coordinated straight-and-flush board, where you can claim both phantom straight outs and phantom flush outs. Others abound. Seek them and seize them. Be quick on the draw. Tell your story first. If you do, the second liar doesn't stand a chance.

John Vorhaus is the author of the Killer Poker book series. He resides in cyberspace at vorza.com, and in the blogosphere at somnifer.typepad.com.