Erin Go Bragh - Part II

There weren't many Americans (or even Englishmen, for that matter) in the Irish Open, so it was no wonder that once we drew for seats, I knew no one at my table. Most everyone seemed to know me, however, and this put me at a disadvantage on this particular day. One guy on my left decided that he was going to impress me, or was trying to show off -- I don't know which. But for the first few hours, every time I raised a pot, he reraised. And every time I just limped, he did, as well.

He was obviously trying to play trickily against me. In one hand that we played, he had pocket aces, and after the usual raise, reraise preflop, he checked it down with me on a board that just wasn't that scary. I had made up my mind that I was going to start making a few plays of my own against this kid, when the following hand came down:

I limped in, as did six other players. I held the Q 10, and when the flop came A-K-6 rainbow with one diamond, I bet out the pot. I figured that if anyone had a good ace, he probably would have raised preflop, and I could most likely steal the pot right here; if not, I had outs.

My new friend immediately raised around the size of the pot. Now, I was getting nowhere near the right price to call on the merits of my cards. I usually would just fold here, but as I said, I was about ready to make a play on this kid, so I called with a little treachery in mind for future streets.

Before I could make a genius play on this kid, however, the deck intervened in the way of a jack, giving me the nuts and making the need for a play unnecessary. I check-raised, and when he reraised, I pushed all in and he quickly called. To my horror, before I could even make a sly comment or crack a smile, he flipped over Q-10 himself, giving him a chop. He had "out-geniused" me!



My treachery would have to go on the shelf, and I'd have to wait to try to bust him. He almost did it to himself a few hands later. I raised from up front with pocket jacks. An older, quiet lady who hadn't done much called me, and then old faithful made a huge reraise. I went into the tank for about a minute, which -- if you've ever played with me, you'd know -- is an eternity for me.

I would have gambled with my friend the kid here if we were alone, but the lady in the middle really scared me. My Spidey senses were telling me I might be beat here in two spots, and I kept imagining the gossip in all of the Irish pubs.

"Did ya hear that lad Todd Brunson put all his chips in when he was beat in two spots, Paddy?"

"Aye. I'd heard he is nay the player his daddy is. Let's go buy him a Guinness and then take him outside for an Irish jig."

I finally put the lady on pocket queens and figured the kid could have anything from 7-2 up to aces, so I just let it go. She called, and the two of them went to the flop alone. It came 10-6-5 with two spades. She made a large bet, and he moved in. She called, and we got to see the hands.

I wasn't far off, as she had pocket kings (nice fold, Todd). And just as I had thought, that he could have anything in a spot like this, it was the 4 3 this time. This gave him open-end straight and flush draws, making him about a 56 percent favorite.

Luckily for the lady, he missed everything and she won. He was bad enough as it was, but he would have been a real monster if he had doubled up. He wasn't done, though. After going all in more than Hoyt Corkins at a Phil Hellmuth table, he got himself back up to average. I must admit, I was a bit relieved when they broke our table, and I got away from that madman.

My relief was short-lived, however. I had managed to double up without any major confrontations, and then this hand came down. The blinds were 400-800, and a guy brought it in from early position for 4,000. That's five times the big blind, which is almost double a normal opening-raise.

I figured right away that he was playing scared and didn't like his hand. His unusually big raise meant that he didn't want action. I was guessing he had A-Q, A-J, or a small pair.

When I looked down at A-K suited, I thought I probably could make him lay down his weak hand, so I made it 12,000 straight. Now I had only about 11,000 left, and his stack was about the same as mine, so I obviously was committed here.

This guy didn't even think about it, and instantly said, "All in." Now, I didn't like it, but as I said, I was committed. I called and showed my A-K suited, and he proudly turned over pocket fours. Several people actually burst out laughing, and he immediately said, "What? I knew it was a race!"

I normally never say anything, but I had to know. "How did you know it was a race?" I queried.

"Well, it was just a mathematical thing," he replied.

With a brilliant answer like this, I knew I was doomed. The board came all small, and I was out.

Was he right about being mathematically likely to be in a race there? Well, let's break it down. Assuming that I would go all in here with only A-K or a pair bigger than fours (and that's a pretty fair assumption), what are the odds that I would hold A-K (which would give him his race) versus a pair (which would have him dominated)?

OK, the A-K is easy. There are 16 ways to have A-K (actually, there are only four ways to have A-K suited, which I had, and I may not have reraised without being suited). There are six combinations to give you a pair, such as: 5 5; 5 5; 5 5; 5 5; 5 5; 5 5.

Now, there are 10 pairs that beat fours, so it's simply 10 x 6 = 60. There are 60 ways for me to have a pair, and only 16 ways for me to have A-K, or, as I said, only four ways to have A-K suited. So, I'm either 60-to-16 -- just a hair less than 4-to-1, or 60-to-4 -- 15-to-1.

Thus, the odds were either 4-to-1 or 15-to-1 against it being a race situation. That's a long way from it being a race, but then again, I never could beat these math geniuses. Luckily for me, there was a second-chance tournament that started two days later. I did a little better there, and I'll tell you about it in my next column.