Sunday, April 20, 2014

Pendleton Poker Round-Up Main Event

In no-limit hold-em, a single hand can mean the difference between a winning session and a losing one. This is particularly true in cash games, but the principle generally holds true in tournaments as well. Play enough of these correctly, and you will win tournaments.

Yesterday, during the Pendleton Poker Round-Up Main Event, I was dealt Ace/King off-suit in early position. It was early in the tournament, before antes had kicked in. I had a slightly above-average stack. I brought it in for a rather small raise. I got four callers, including the big blind, who was a very good (and observant) player. Of all the callers, he was the one I was the most concerned about. Fortunately, he’s also the one I had position on.

The flop came King, Six, Three … all spades. I did not have a spade in my hand.

Now, in years past, my thinking would go as follows: “Oh no! I have a terrific hand, but look at that flush draw! I need to bomb the pot and chase out the drawers so I can take it down right now!” Then I’d follow up with a monster bet of 75%-80% of the pot.

But since I've started working with the guys at the Portland Poker University, they've helped me think about these types of situations differently. If I bomb the pot, the only callers I get will be the ones who've already flopped the flush and have me beat. And I’ll get no value whatsoever from players with worse hands.

So I decided to take a different tack. I bet about half the pot. This was plenty enough to scare away all but the big blind, who called. We went to the turn heads-up.

The turn was the Queen of Diamonds.

The big blind checked. I bet again, this time a bit more than half the pot. I felt I probably had the best hand, and wanted to charge my opponent a high price if he was on a draw and wanted to continue. He called.

The river was the Eight of Clubs. No draws hit. My opponent checked, and I checked behind. When I showed my top pair, he mucked. There’s no question whatsoever that I made more money in this hand than I would have if I’d played it the old way.

One reason why I think my opponent called me down was that just a few hands earlier I had fired three bullets on a missed draw (but hadn't really lost that many chips). I’m sure he’d seen that, and since I pretty much played this hand the same way, he might have had a bluff-catcher … a lower pocket pair, or a hand like Ace/Six with the Ace of Spades.

If there was any error in the way I played this hand, it might have been that I missed a river value bet. But if he raises me, what would I do? I figured a river bet probably only gets called by a hand that has me beat, and the pot was big enough to take down.


Live and learn. I wonder what improvements in my game will come next?

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Pendleton Poker Round-Up: The Cash Game

Here I am in lovely Pendleton, Oregon for their “Round-Up” series. I've mentioned before how much I enjoy this tournament. It rivals the WSOP in my totally subjective judgment. But it’s the incredibly juicy cash games that first attracted me to this location; and it’s still the cash games that bring in most of the money while I’m here.

Last night was a particularly noteworthy session. I was playing the $2/$5 no-limit game, which has a $800 max buy-in. One guy sat down, bought in for the max, and immediately started winning. And winning big. He busted four players, two of them twice. He was winning pot after pot. His style was maximum aggression – when someone came in for a raise to $15 or $20, he’d re-raise to $80. He basically blasted people out of every pot, and when he was called down, he’d flip over two pair or some other genuine hand. It was amazing to behold. By the time he cashed out, he had around $3000 sitting in front of him.

And I can confess in all honesty … for all those chips of his piled into massive stacks, not a single one of them came from me.

Oh, I suppose it’s possible he picked up a small blind or two from me. But for whatever reason, the two of us just never tangled. It helped (significantly!) that I had position on him. But the table dynamics being what they were, I just played massively tight overall. Once I folded Ace/Queen from the big blind; something that I almost never do. That’s tight!

But I still came out winner, doubling my buy-in and busting two players myself. Two big hands come to mind (these are the hands that busted my opponents). Before I go into the details, I’m certain that one of the reasons why I did so well at this table had to do with Mr. Luckbox being there. His shadow loomed over every hand, even the ones he wasn't in. Everybody – except for me – wanted to take shots at him. And on those few occasions where he wasn't in a hand, his spirit still infused the overall table action.

I’ll also admit something else right up front: Pretty much all of these players were clearly, demonstrably better than me. It’s always been one of the things I do, almost instinctively, when I sit down at a poker table: Figure out which players are better, and which are worse, and then adjust my game against each of those players. And it was pretty obvious that most of these folks were master players. This usually doesn't intimidate me, and I’m willing to play a game with better players – occasionally – but with the weird spirit of this particular table, my plan was to just play ultra-tight (for the most part) and let the cards, and hopefully the chips, come to me.

In the first hand that I want to share, I was on the button. The first player in raised, another called, and the player on my right (an excellent player who’d already been felted once by Mr. Luckbox) also called. I looked down and saw King of Hearts/Jack of Hearts, and called the bet.

Now, after emphasizing just how tight I’d been, playing King/Jack doesn't fit that profile. Pretty as it looks, it just isn't that good of a hand. Frankly, it’s so bad that I’d frequently raise with it rather than call. That sounds like an odd thing to say, but in most games it would be the better play. I’d have to admit that it’s a rather advanced concept though. The reason I didn't raise here is that I didn't really want to re-open the betting at this crazy-loose table. And I trusted my post-flop play to keep me out of the worst danger.

The blinds both completed the bet, and six of us took the flop: 8c Ks 7h. So I had top pair, yucky kicker.

The preflop raiser dutifully put in a continuation bet. The next player folded, and the player on my right put in a healthy raise. I actually thought my hand might be best, so I called his raise. Everyone else folded, so it was just the two of us.

The turn was 9d.

My opponent bet about a third of his stack – a little over $100. I gave this a lot of thought. For whatever reason, it was really tough for me to put him on a hand. He’d just lost all his chips to Mr. Luckbox, and re-bought. There’s a decent chance he was on tilt. The only hands I needed to fear were Ace/King, King/Queen, or a straight/set/two pair. While these were all possible holdings, I thought a tilt play was the most likely … Ace/Eight or Ace/Nine, for example. And my weak King beat those.

Once I decided to continue in the hand, the only other question was precisely how. Should I call, or should I raise and put the pressure on? He only had around $200 left, so that would essentially mean putting him all-in. Even if I my read was off and I was behind, I had a draw to a straight. I decided to just call.

The river was the 3h.

I had been thinking for some time about the relative weakness of my hand, and strongly considering a river all-in. If my hand really was weaker than his, it might be the only way to win. But before I could carry through with this plan … he shoved himself. This was a rather unexpected, and undesired, wrinkle. I knew I should fold … but I just couldn't. I kept thinking about how he could be on tilt. I started thinking about how I would shove myself in his position with a weak hand. I started to realize that perhaps my hand was best after all. Eventually, I called.

He showed King/Ten. I dragged in an $800 pot while the rest of the table marveled at how I could play a King/Jack the way I did.

The next hand was near the end of the session. The player under-the-gun raised. He got one caller in middle position, and one in late position. I was in the big blind. I looked down at two red Kings, and re-raised. The UTG player called, as did the mid-position player.

The flop came 8s Kc 7d. I checked. The UTG player made a very large, pot-sized bet. I was the only caller. My hand was so huge that I just couldn't raise … and why bother, when I can just let my opponent do the betting for me?

The turn was the 9h. I checked again, drawing another pot-sized bet from my opponent. I thought for a very long time. I just couldn't put him on a draw, and I still didn't want to scare him off. So rather than shove, I just called again.


The river was the 4h. Now I went ahead and sprang the trap. I shoved, and he beat me into the pot. I suppose he thought I was betting a busted straight draw. But my set of Kings cracked his Aces, and I pulled in another $700 pot. I can’t imagine that this hand would have played out this way if it hadn't been for the presence of Mr. Luckbox, who essentially tilted everyone at the table. Except for me.