The BRA Call

OK, before the bluenoses jump all over me, let me state for the record that the phrase in this column’s title has nothing to do with articles of clothing of questionable couth. Rather, as described below by Card Player reader Stuart Yager, it details a certain knee-jerk betting pattern we can fall into, to the bleak detriment of our bankroll. Stuart sent me an account of the phenomenon, and generously agreed to let me share it with you. You’ll find his text here — along with some comments in italics from me, just so that my Card Player editor-überlords don’t think I’m stealing my paycheck … well, any more than usual.

Dear JV,

Last weekend, I went down in flames in four live-game sessions by making BRA calls, and losing every one of them! A BRA call is when your opponent bets, you raise, he pushes all in, and you call his shove. The term BRA call comes from the progression of bet (B), raise®, all in (A), and call ©. Making BRA calls, whether you end up winning or losing, can mess with your ego and make you question your own playing ability.

Technically speaking, that would be a BRAC, not a BRA, but in a world that accepts the aggravating redundancy of both SAT tests (Scholastic Aptitude Test tests) and ATM machines (Automated Teller Machine machines), I guess I can live with it — especially since I think I see where you’re going with this.

In the first session, I was playing $1-$3 no-limit hold’em. I was on the button with A-7 suited. The flop came A-8-2. My opponent bet, and I raised. My opponent called. The turn was an ace. My opponent bet, I raised three times his bet, and he shoved. I called with my three aces. The river brought another small card. My opponent turned over A-2, showing the full house that he made on the turn.

I’d be interested to know how the action went preflop. Was the pot unraised, or did you or he call a raise preflop? I would like the situation best if I knew that you had used the power of your position to raise from the button, meaning that your opponent made a mistake in getting involved. (That’s cold comfort, I know, but some comfort, just the same.) Where you went wrong, I think, was in reopening the action on the turn. At that point, you’re probably either way ahead or way behind, and since you don’t know which, you need to keep the pot small. But let’s continue the tale.
In the second session, I again was playing $1-$3 no-limit hold’em. I consider myself to be a pretty tight-aggressive player, and my opponent in this case also was tight-aggressive. Preflop, he raised from middle position. I was on the button and reraised twice his bet with pocket tens. He called. The flop came 9-6-4 rainbow, and he bet. I raised three times his bet. He pushed all in. I called, and lost to pocket kings.
The problem here was the size of your preflop reraise. It was not big enough! A reraise in that situation should really define your opponent’s hand; specifically, it should define his hand as one that can or cannot stand a reraise. If he raises from the middle with A-J (as tight-aggressive players will do), a reraise of three times or four times his bet should make him fold. If he raises from the middle with aces or paired paint (as tight-aggressive players will do), the same bet won’t make him fold. From proper preflop bet-sizing, you can then deduce whether your overpair to the flop (barely) is as good as you think/hope it is, and avoid going all BRA on the hand.
The third session was a pretty tight $1-$2 no-limit hold’em game. I had A-J suited on the button. A player limped in preflop. I raised, and he called. The flop came J-7-X. My opponent made a small bet. I raised, and he pushed all in. I called. He turned over pocket sevens, for a set.

Well, (A) here’s another example where reopening the betting left you vulnerable to a nasty reraise, and (B) I think you really have to know your foe here. Is he the type of ignoramus who will go off for his whole stack with K-J? Such a player is rare, but not unheard of. That said, he’s much more likely to be a kosher player, betting exactly the hand that he’s representing: a set or two pair. I think you got your BRA snapped on this one.

In the final session of the weekend, I was playing in a loose $2-$5 no-limit hold’em game with Q-J suited on the button. A middle-position player made a firm preflop raise. I called, as did the big blind. The flop came K-Q-J rainbow. The big blind made an average-size bet, the middle-position player folded, and I made it three times the big blind’s bet with my two pair. The big blind went all in, and I called. He turned over A-10, for a straight.

It’s a little harder to see this one coming, since your foe might be on a hand like A-K, going to war with his top pair, top kicker, plus gutshot-straight draw. Yet, again, know your foe. If you respect his preflop call from the big blind (that is, you don’t think he’d overcall with nothing), his range is heavy with Broadway pairs, plus combos like K-Q and K-J that have you crushed.

Over the past week, I’ve been thinking about these four sessions and what I learned from them: When faced with a BRA situation, the skilled player should do a lot of thinking to make the call — thinking that I didn’t do. I was “married” to my cards and wanted to push back at the all-in aggressors — as you would describe them, “lying sacks of cheese.” Each time, the all-in aggressor had the goods, and I stacked off. Most of the time, it seems, they do have the goods, even if I don’t want them to. The exceptional players are the ones who go all in every once in a while without the goods. I want to be the exceptional player at the table. Therefore, I continue to think about my game and process through both winning and losing sessions.

Insanity, it is said, is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome. It seems like you had a little brush with insanity here, Stuart, but it also looks like you came to your senses during your post-game analysis. Props to you for debriefing yourself entirely, with honesty. The thing to really remember is that when you’re playing in low-stakes live games, people are much more likely to be telling the truth when they put their chips in the middle.

Reader, do you have a similar situation or discovery that you’d like to explore with me in print? If so, please do ship it my way. I’m always looking to steal my paycheck … ♠

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.