A Hand From the Shooting Star

I recently went to San Jose for Bay 101’s $10,000 Shooting Star event, and did well, coming in 29th out of 391 players. There were many highlights and noteworthy hands during my three days of play, including busting a couple of bounty players for $5,000 each. But by far the most interesting hand came on day three, when we were down to 30 players.

To start the day, the remaining 36 players shifted to six-handed tables, which I think is an excellent wrinkle. It tests your ability to play under different circumstances, and ensures that you can’t just sit back and let your opponents eliminate each other. I thought it would work to my advantage, but my day did not start well at all. Early on, everyone folded to Vivek Rajkumar in the small blind, and he made a huge all-in overbet of my big blind. I looked down at the A♠ 3♠ and felt 90 percent confident that it was the best hand. I made the call for most of my stack, he showed 10-2 offsuit, and the board came J-8-7-J-9 for a straight.

That hand knocked me down to 14,000, with the blinds at 2,000-4,000. I was mentally resigned to my fate, but when I got pocket aces on the button, I regained a glimmer of hope. After they held up, I managed to double up twice more, plus I picked up another significant pot, and within 15 minutes, I was back up to 160,000. All of a sudden, I began to dream of an improbable comeback. That’s when the sickest of sick hands came up.

The blinds were now 2,500-5,000. I was in the small blind in seat 1. Farzad Bonyadi was the tournament chip leader, and he had just gotten moved to seat 3. He raised to 13,000 preflop. Tyler Cornell — the young, solid, and aggressive player in seat 4 — flat-called the 13,000. The action was then folded to me, and I looked down at the K K.

I would reraise in that spot 98 percent of the time. But, I had literally just won the pot that got me up to 160,000 and was still stacking a bunch of chips, and I thought I could give the impression that I was testing my luck by splashing around in the next pot. So, I casually threw in the chips to call, doing my best to pretend that I was playing my rush, and not looking at all like I was considering a reraise. While I was able to disguise my hand well, I still have second thoughts about whether or not it was a worthwhile play, especially since the chips already in the pot would have increased my stack more than 20 percent. Nevertheless, I flat-called, which enticed the big blind to call, as well, and we took the flop four-handed.

It came Q 3 3, which I felt was pretty good. I bet out 22,000. The big blind quickly folded. Bonyadi took a few moments, then made the call, at which point Cornell quickly raised to 55,000.

One might think this is exactly what I wanted to have happen. But right away, something didn’t feel right. First, Cornell’s raise was not nearly enough to muscle us out. He was not discouraging action, and that bothered me a bit. Second, I didn’t think he’d flat-call preflop with a hand like A-Q. He could have been raising small with a flush draw, but I didn’t have a strong feeling about that, and I wasn’t willing to risk my tournament life on that hope. Third, while Bonyadi took his time calling my 22,000, I never had the impression that he was considering a fold, and that added to my wariness. This was my first hand against him, and I truly had very little idea of what to give him credit for. At this point, I wasn’t “feeling it.” I called the extra 33,000, as did Bonyadi.

The turn was the 4, blank city. I checked, and felt that if Bonyadi checked, there was a good chance the action would get checked around. Again, it seems counterintuitive that I would want to let the action check around with an overpair, but for the first time in the tournament, I was really unsure of where I stood in a hand. Bonyadi checked, and Cornell surprised me by betting 88,000, almost enough to put me all in.

Why did it surprise me? Because I thought his flop raise was possibly testing the water with a K-Q or Q-J type of hand, or else a flush draw, and with none of those hands would he fire again rather than take the free card. Plus, I kept telling myself, “He flat-called preflop.” Between day one and day three, I had logged several hours with him, and had not seen him do that once. I sat there for about four minutes, deciding what to do, and if anyone thinks I was posturing, let it be known that I wouldn’t waste everyone’s time that way. As strange as it sounds, I spent that time having an entire conversation with myself.

My first inclination was, “You can’t lay down K-K here! You have half of your chips in the pot and you’re going to lay down an overpair? That would be crazy!” Almost immediately after that thought came, “What is ‘can’t’? And why would it be so crazy? Something doesn’t feel right. That’s all I need to know.” Then, I had to ask myself, “Why doesn’t it feel right?” The answer was fairly simple: “Cornell flat-called preflop, and is firing a second time when I fully expected him to check. And Bonyadi is sitting behind me, and I have no idea what he has, but he never looked like he intended to fold — to my initial bet or to Cornell’s flop raise. I’m getting the hell out of Dodge.” I took one last look at my kings and reluctantly mucked them.

I thought there was a decent chance that I would never know for sure whether I made the right play or not. But after a few moments, Bonyadi announced that he was all in, at which point Cornell and I simultaneously said one word: “Wow.” His was a more resigned, “Wow, I’m in trouble,” while mine was a, “Wow! I think I just made a great laydown!” Although he didn’t look too happy about it, Cornell made the call for the rest of his chips and showed A-A, while Bonyadi showed Q-Q for queens full. The river was a blank, and Bonyadi became the overwhelming chip leader, while Cornell’s rough beat eliminated him in 30th place.

What a strange set of circumstances for one hand! At a six-handed table, we had A-A vs. K-K vs. Q-Q, both the A-A and K-K decided to slow-play preflop, and the flop came queen high. And somehow, I didn’t go broke with K-K! As hands go, this one was pretty unique. I thought the poker gods might reward me for my play; instead, I was eliminated exactly four hands later. But that hand might be a story for another day.

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.