'If I Fold, Will You Show?'

The game was $15-$30 limit hold'em. I had never played with the player in seat 5 before, but I soon discovered that he was one of those nonstop chatterboxes, especially during a hand. If the flop came king high and an opponent bet, he'd instantly ask, "You have the king?" or, "Why did you bet so fast?" Players like that amuse me, because they are rarely able to take advantage of any answers that their opponents provide. Seat 5 was no exception. His reactions to his opponents' answers (or lack thereof) essentially seemed random. I was hoping I'd have the chance to play a pot heads up with him. Then, if he started asking his inane questions, I'd look to use them against him.



After some time, the opportunity arrived. I was the big blind in seat 2. The first two players folded, and "Chatterbox" opened for a raise. Three players called, and I called with J 10. The flop came 9 8 2, not bad at all. I didn't want to lead out, because he would probably raise, and I didn't want to shut my opponents out.

I checked, Chatterbox bet, two players called, and I check-raised. Chatterbox three-bet. That cleared out the field, which was both good and bad; bad, in that if I made a straight or flush, I had only one opponent to pay me off; good, in that if a 10 or a jack hit, it was now somewhat more likely that I would have the best hand.

Plus, having only one opponent opened up the possibility for a bluff. I wasn't sure that it would work, but with such a favorable flop, I didn't feel like relinquishing control of the hand. I four-bet, and Chatterbox immediately asked, "You have two pair? A set? I call." Obviously, he wasn't overly worried about two pair or a set, but at least he began to wonder if I might have him beat. Plus, with his chatter, he had essentially defined his hand as either A-9 or, more likely, an overpair. Therefore, I no longer had to worry that he had gotten lucky and flopped a set himself.

The turn was the A, and I bet out. His immediate reaction clearly demonstrated that the ace didn't help him. "Not worried about the ace?" he asked. He tried to stare me down, and of course I gave him nothing. "You have an ace? Ace-nine?" I continued to stare straight ahead and give him nothing. He reluctantly threw in the $30 to call.

The river was the K, leaving me with nothing but jack high. But given that his most likely hand was a pocket pair lower than kings, I thought my chances of bluffing him had gotten even better. I bet again. Now he looked really bummed. "You got me on the turn, right?" He had the $30 in his hand to call, and kept tossing it back and forth between his hands, but seemed very reluctant to throw the chips in. Finally, he looked at me and asked, "If I fold, will you show?"

Since I hadn't batted an eyelash at any of his other questions, I'm sure that he wasn't expecting any kind of response. But believe it or not, I had been waiting for that particular question. He already had asked it several times to other opponents, when he had a weakish hand on the river and was trying to get information.

Once in a while, his opponents agreed to show; more often, they would flat-out refuse. In both cases, he had sometimes called and sometimes folded, so there was really no discernible connection between his opponents' responses and his actions. But I really didn't want to leave it to chance. Therefore, I knew exactly what I wanted to say if and when he asked me that question and I wanted him to fold.

I looked a little exasperated and said, "I don't usually do this, but I'll show you this one time. But then, please don't ask me anymore, OK?" He nodded, flipped up his 10 10, and pushed them in. I waited until the dealer had properly mucked his cards, and then turned up my hand. A couple of players at the table nodded, as if a hand like jack high was exactly what they were expecting me to show. A few gave subtle oohs and aahs, seemingly glad that Chatterbox had been outplayed, and perhaps trying to get a rise out of him.

He remained quiet for a little while, then began to mutter a little about me. After a while, he started to suggest that I had done something dishonest. I almost had to laugh out loud at that one. If anything, he was the one who was out of line, pulling amateurish moves to try to save bets. The few times that players willingly showed their cards after he folded, he got to keep the $30 that he probably would have used to call. There's no telling how many big bets he saved that way. So, in one hand, I took back all of those saved bets by inducing him to give up a sizable pot. I felt like it was justice, gambler's style.

I don't typically like to pull such stunts. I'd like to think I can win without them; plus, they could be viewed as poor etiquette. But sometimes I think it's necessary when an opponent is getting too far out of line. Somebody needs to show him how his nonstop talking can backfire, and if I can be the one to benefit from that, so much the better. In this case, he asked if I would show my hand, and I said yes. It was that simple. OK, I acted like I was doing him a favor. But in some ways, maybe I was. I didn't do him the favor of showing that he made a good fold. Instead, I did him the favor of showing him that some players can use his antics against him.

If you are a player who is always grilling your opponents with questions, be careful. It may seem that you have nothing to lose, but that's clearly not true. Besides the fact that you could be manipulated into making a bad decision, you also must consider that your questions often give away the strength of your hand.

In short, keeping quiet is usually your best bet.

Matt Lessinger is the author of The Book of Bluffs: How to Bluff and Win at Poker, available everywhere. You can find other articles of his at www.CardPlayer.com.