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FEAR

Future events appear real

by John Vorhaus |  Published: Oct 30, 2009

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As you may know, I love to reduce complex concepts to trivial one-liners. “If you can’t be right, be loud,” for example, says everything you really need to know about bluffing, and, “Well, that happens,” compresses to three words a strategy and philosophy for taking bad beats in stride. Sometimes, though, even pithy phrases aren’t sufficiently reductive. Then, you have to go one level deeper, to the land of the acronym. Dutiful readers will recognize such useful mnemonic triggers as ICTAFCOA (increasing commitment to a failing course of action) and DPCH (don’t play crap hands). Now, we come to an acronym for which I can’t take credit, FEAR — future events appear real. This phrase has application in recovery circles, and general psychology, as a device for keeping things in proper perspective. It reminds us that certain fears are phantom fears and can be dismissed. Let us now shift the phrase to a poker context, and see how we can use our foes’ fears — and FEAR — against them.

First, we should recognize that certain foes at certain times feel like they’re cursed. Maybe they’ve had some recent bad beats or maybe they just dwell in negativity. In any event, bad luck has afflicted them and they expect it to strike again; they live, in other words, in FEAR. These foes will give us a predictive tell, one that lets us anticipate how they’ll react to the fall of certain cards. If all goes accordingly, our opponents’ own anxieties will win us the pot.

What you’re looking for in hold’em, for example, are scary flops, such as straight or flush draws, flops that you can “own” by playing as if you’re on that draw. If the draw gets there, your chosen victim will experience a momentary lapse of reason. His judgment temporarily clouded by a fatalistic sense of here we go again, he won’t pause to consider that you’re betting a hand that you don’t have. He’ll just see himself as damned unlucky once more, and will fold his hand without a second thought. Why would he call? He put you on a draw, and because he’s cursed, your draw got there.

You can help reinforce this set of mistaken assumptions by “betraying” yourself with a betting pattern that’s consistent with the draw you aren’t on. Let’s suppose that you’re heads up against Gloomy Gustav, and are looking at a flop of 10-9-8 rainbow. If he bets, go ahead and raise. Figure that he’s got top pair, good kicker. He, meanwhile, figures that you have a naked jack or a 7. You’re not actually looking to hit on the turn. You’re hoping to hit a brick and have your opponent check, so that you can check, too. He’ll conclude that your raise on the flop was a foreclosure raise, and he will now firmly put you on the straight draw. If the river brings a queen, jack, 7, or 6, his own dour evaluation of your hand has to put you on a straight (or, in the case of the queen or jack, new top pair). Skittish as he is, he knows he’s beat. He checks, you bet, he folds. It’s a happy outcome, all because your foe feels snakebit and you played the hand in a way that let him put you firmly on a hand that beats him.

If you should be unfortunate enough to hit your phantom hand on the turn (let’s say a jack comes), you can still carry this gambit through by checking behind. If he checks the river, you bet; if he bets, you raise. To a player caught in the throes of FEAR, your check on the turn and bet or raise on the river is consistent with a made-hand trap. He’ll fold like a map of France.
Fear
Different situation, same concept: Let’s suppose that you’re in the big blind and it’s folded around to the button, who makes a standard real-estate raise (position raise). A call from you here can be consistent with a medium ace. Keep this in mind, because this is the hand you want him to put you on. Now, here comes a flop of 9-7-3, not much of anything for anyone. You check, he bets, you call. What does this tell him? That you have a weak piece of the flop, or overcards, or a bit of both with something like A-3 or A-7. The turn is a deuce, and nothing seems to have changed. You check. Your foe also checks, because he’s feeling star-crossed and doesn’t want to bet again into a pot that you’ve demonstrated you won’t be bluffed out of. Should the river be an ace, a 7, or a 3, go ahead and gleefully bet out — betraying your glee if you can. Your opponent knows that there’s no point in calling — as you obviously hit your hand! He’ll feel cursed that a bad card fell on the river, but also (incorrectly) smug for making a good laydown in the face of a bad outcome.

Yes, I know that he could have raised from the button with a good ace, in which case a river ace helps him more than it helps you. But many players will raise an unraised pot from the button with many non-ace hands. They figure to own any board that remains ace-free, but are willing to surrender to that scary ace when it falls. The real question is this: Do you know your foe’s preflop raising requirements here? If you have him dialed in, you can make this move; otherwise, save it for an enemy whose tendencies you’re more sure of.

Two concepts control our thinking here. The first is phantom outs, cards that have nothing to do with your hand, but fit the texture of the board and create bluffing opportunities against weak-minded foes. The second is, well, weak-minded foes. This whole class of play requires foes you can steer. It’s not like they’re not out there; weak-minded players abound. Just make sure that they have the right kind of weak mind. You need someone who’s feeling like a loser — but not so much like a loser that he’s past the point of pain. You want him to be dumb enough to conclude that he’s beat, but smart enough not to play sheriff on you. It’s a fine line, but a profitable one; it’s one you prepare for, needless to say, by studying your foes intently throughout the course of your play. Don’t look at just their betting patterns; look for the underlying psychology. Find out who lives in FEAR, and then use their fear to steal pots. Spade Suit

John Vorhaus is the author of the Killer Poker book series and the poker novel Under the Gun. He resides in cyberspace at radarenterprizes.com. Photo: Gerard Brewer.