Sucking Out in a Huge Pot

It's the type of hand that generates strange looks. People are surprised to see me in these situations, as if they somehow think I don't play a starting hand worse than A-Q. He's a good player, they think, and he plays only good hands and never draws thin. That thinking by my opponents gets me some value, and the confusion generated by turning over a surprise gets me more value yet.

The Bellagio $30-$60 limit hold'em game was live, as many loose-passive players were entering pots liberally and playing God-awful poker after the flop. Lots of funky two-, three-, and four-outers and backdoor draws were taking down juicy pots. There are big swings in a game like that, but also lots of chances to get your money in with the best of it, and to make some right-priced draws. These types of games were my bread-and-butter back in my early years, when playing against the boys who were out for a good time and looking to gamble. My feel and read in these situations is pretty good.

Because there was little preflop raising and four or more players were seeing every flop, I loosened up my starting holdings with big-hand potential, outside of conventional hand-selection strategies. This was not a matter of gambling with the rest of them, but recognizing that there were more opportunities to get the best of it in these situations. The volume of players and their poor play post-flop made such play a positive-expectation winner, even though I'd sometimes find myself with the worst of it in some situations.



Under the gun, I tossed in $30 with the J 9, a hand that I'm usually mucking quickly in that spot. Two totally live players called behind me. The small blind, the livest player at the table, raised. The big blind, a solid young pro who played well after the flop, hit it again. This scenario was not playing out well. I didn't like the raise and reraise, or my relative position. I felt this was likely to be one of those trials in which I took the worst of it. I tossed in $60, not wanting to surrender $30 of dead money.

Everybody called behind me, and we took the flop five-handed for $90 each. The A 8 7 hit the board; I had flopped a "gutterball" [gutshot-straight draw], and a diamond-flush draw was present. The small blind checked, and Young Pro bet. While I was getting 16-1 pot odds, my position stunk. If I called, I had a good chance of getting raised. But the overlay was large; I was 43-4 to catch a 10, less than 11-1, although I wouldn't love the 10, and this pot was only going to get bigger. Even with all of the assumed risks added to the equation, I felt it was a close decision. I could get trapped for a bunch of bets, or I could get lucky with a limp-around and get a big overlay. I called. The player directly behind me folded. The next player, who took any out to the river, called. Then, a bad thing happened: The small blind check-raised, Young Pro re-hit it, and I was facing two more bets.

If it didn't get raised again and everyone called, I was getting $810-$60 on the call. But, I knew I was at risk for it to get hit again. Once again, I thought it was close. I tossed in $60, and it was raised again by the small blind, who was now down to $60 left in play. The field called.

The turn card was the J. The small blind bet his last $60. Young Pro raised, and it was $120 to me! There was $990 in the pot, and it was unlikely to get reraised by the player behind me; I was getting just over 8-1 current pot odds. I knew that I didn't have the best hand, but I still had outs. A 10 was my best card, but it might be a split. Would a third jack be good? A 9? I thought about my opponents' ranges. Young Pro had played his hand in a "protect-the-pot" mode rather than a "build-the-pot" mode, making me believe that he was significantly more likely to hold A-K or A-Q than A-A. I thought it unlikely that he would have three-bet preflop from the big blind with A-J. The small blind could have a wide range of hands, but his most likely holding was an ace, and perhaps A-J. The guy behind me was going to call with any draw, legitimate or otherwise. He might have a diamond draw, reducing my outs. But much of his hand range didn't include a flush draw. Once again, I called, thinking it was close. The player behind me also called; I received $1,110-$120 on my call.

None of that mattered when the 10 rolled off on the river, giving me a straight. Young Pro checked into the four-straight on the board. I wagered, and both the loose-passive player and Young Pro folded. The small blind showed A-10 - top pair and fair kicker with a gutshot-straight draw that made aces up on the river.

I reflected on how the hand had played out. Young Pro had shown his smarts by not making a frustrated "size-of-the-pot" call when he knew he was beat, and his class by not whining about the suck-out. Obviously, a 9 was not good, since it would have given the small blind a straight. If the loose-passive player held diamonds or a better jack (or both), and the small blind had aces up, the turn call was a bad one, though not horrible. But I thought the wide hand ranges of those two opponents and my read on Young Pro blended enough scenarios that additional outs, when they were good, would make up for the times that they weren't, given the size of the pot. At least my best estimate of the situation was that they did. Exactly quantifying such situations in the heat of battle is beyond anyone's brainpower.

I'm not certain that my early calls were correct, but they were close. And confusing the opposition was almost better than stacking the mountain of chips - almost, but not quite.


Longtime poker pro and author Roy Cooke's Card Player column has appeared since 1992. A successful Las Vegas real estate broker since 1990, his website is www.roycooke.com. Should you wish to inquire regarding real-estate matters - including purchase, sale, or mortgage - his phone number is (702) 396-6575. Roy's longtime collaborator John Bond's website is www.johnbondwriting.com. Find John and Roy on Facebook.