JV'S KILLER POKER: PROBLEMS

BY: John Vorhaus

If you don't think it's a problem, then it's not. But I watched you play last night, and brother (sister) you got a problem. That K-9 you played? Land o' Goshen, what were you thinking? You limped in in early position and ended up taking a five-way flop for four bets. Four bets! What flop could you possibly have loved with that hand? Q-J-T? It leaves you vulnerable to the A-K, which is very likely out there in any five-way four-bet scenario. Or maybe you'd like a set of nines. But even then you could easily be looking at A-9, couldn't you? After all, A-9 is less crappy than the K-9 you played. (Remember, you can't credit your opponents with being less stupid than you.) Okay, so then you're dreaming of flopping a full house, and while I admire your optimism, you spunky guygal, if that's the kind of poker you play, then you've got bigger problems than I thought.

But that's not even what happened. Not even close. Here's what really happened. You got dealt your K-9 and decided you'd play a little Killer Poker by popping the pot in early position. That's fine, I don't have any problem with that - if you see it through. But at the last minute you noticed someone loading a reraise downstream so you chickened out. But oops, you forgot to fold and you just called and that's where you got trapped in the hand.

And the raiser behind you? He just called! It was the old fake-load and you fell for it. Two other calls and now it's back to the big blind, who raises, and she can't be raising with nothing, not into that crowd. She's into building the pot, not thinning the field. Can't you see that? If only you'd made your escape!

Not you, you look at that big pot and start computing the odds of your straight draw, forgetting for a moment that you don't have a draw, really, but only pieces of one. And if that doesn't work, you'll predict yourself to flop two pair. Anything to delude yourself into calling, which you do. You don't have odds, you don't have outs, you don't have expectations, you don't have anything except the sad rationale that any hand worth one bet is worth two.

But now the fellow behind you gets frisky. That fake raiser? He decides he likes his hand well enough to want to see this pot capped before the flop, and figures that the big blind will oblige him if he puts in a raise right here. Sure enough that happens, and the action comes back to you. You use whatever justifications you didn't use before (good money after bad usually works here) to get yourself to call. Look at the size of that pot! Man, this is action!

As we've already talked about, you hate almost any flop you hit here (Okay, I'll give you quad nines), but last night you elevated creative stupidity to a high art, so let's see how you screwed this particular pooch even further still.

The big blind had a big hand; her actions proved it. Same with the frisky raiser behind you. So even if the other callers are (like you) present in error, you know that there are at least two hands out there better than yours, and you know exactly where they are. And yet you choose to ignore this useful information. Why? Because the flop comes 9-6-3, so now you have top-pair-big-kicker, and who throws away that hand, right? Killer Poker says raise, right? Yes, yes, yes, raise, raise, raise, but please, please, please not into this thicket. A-K or A-Q won't fold. You know a big pair won't fold. Maybe you'll drop a weak draw, but that's about all.

So your bet in this situation has no muscle whatsoever. And yet when the big blind checks, you bet, because that's what Killer Poker taught you to do, right? Carpe collectum, right? Seize the pot, right? Right?

Sigh. I know that one day I shall be punished for my sins when your mishandling of my wisdom is brought to judgement against me. Yet I live in hope. But pay attention: You don't bet here! You have no business being here in the first place but in any case, look around! Didn't the big blind raise before the flop? Twice? Didn't you put him on a big pair? Wouldn't a big pair love to make a check-raise here? And you gave him a shot. Might as well put a Salvation Army sign on your ass, sucker, 'cause you givin' it all away.

Well, the bet goes around. The frisky fake-loader behind you just calls. He has overcards and hopes to hit on the turn. The other two fold, but the big blind, yes, check-raises. Now you're starting to suffer because it finally dawns on you that you'll have to draw out to win here, and in any case your busy betting isn't going to drive anyone else home. So you just call. But Frisky reraises. You hope it's a foreclosure raise, made by a draw looking for a free card on the turn. But could he really hope to slow the big blind down? She hasn't been slow this whole hand.

And of course she reraises, and of course you, with top-pair-big-kicker, call both bets because suddenly you decide that they're both lying sacks and they're trying to steal your pot, and you will not have that. Now we'll have a moment of silence while you pray for a card.

You pray for a king and your prayer is answered. The board now reads 9-6-3-K with no threatening suit noise to distract you from the warm and fuzzy feeling you have that your bleak K-9 has just developed some serious stealth potential. You try to imagine the hands that could be out against you. You discount all legitimate hands and see instead a lot of 8-7s who will fold weeping when the board bricks their straight draw on the river.

So naturally when the big blind checks you bet. And Mr. Frisky raises because his A-K likes that king a lot, especially if he puts you on A-9. But whoops, now the big blind reraises (another check-raise!) and now you just call because what if she really does have kings? Then Frisky fires back and you're whipsawed but good. What a mess.

By now you're pretty far gone, so far deep into delusion that a three on the river actually excites you. You imagine that it has converted someone's king with a big kicker into a king with a small second pair, thus paving the way for victory and glory for you. But the big blind bets out and you feel you must be beaten, but you call just the same, just for the size of the pot.

Do you remember what the big blind had? Does it all come back to you now, like the taste of pepperoni you burp up five hours after the last slice of pizza has been eaten?

The big blind had aces, elevated to the status of winning hand by a nondescript pair on the board. The big blind had aces, and she played them exactly as you'd expect aces to play. The big blind had aces, an obvious reality you ignored every step of the way. The big blind had aces, and you impaled yourself on them. Why did you do that? Because desire vetoed common sense (to the tune of exactly 18 small bets), and this is the mistake you make every time. You let your need to win color reality, and as long as you keep doing that, you will keep losing money. But like I said, if you don't think it's a problem, then it's not.

Or anyway, not mine.