Monday, March 2, 2015

Some Recent, Random Experiences from the Table

We've all seen them; those hyper-aggressive players that bomb the pot on every street, frequently winning a hand by doing nothing more than bullying the opposition out of the way. And we just know that they can’t have a real hand every time they do this; but whenever we try to fight back, we discover that (at least that particular time) they in fact do; alternately, we chicken out before we get to the river.

These players used to befuddle – if not downright intimidate – me, but nowadays I know how to fight back effectively.

It was early afternoon, and my opponent had been playing all night long. He had a stack of nearly $10,000; a respectable showing in a 3/5 game when the max buy-in is only $500. And he was one of these hyper-aggros. Helpfully, he was in Seat 1 and I had Seat 4, so I at least had position on him. I pegged him right away for who he was (his gigantic chip stacks were something of a clue), and assembled a strategy for how to play against him, should the occasion arise.

For the most part, we stayed out of each other’s way. When he came into a pot, I’d generally get out; and if he passed on a hand, I found myself more likely to stay in. But inevitably, the big confrontation took place … and I was ready for it.

I was in the big blind, and he was in the cutoff. This being a Seattle room, the field limped in with hardly any folders, until it got to Aggroboy. He tossed in a huge two-fisted raise, and it was folded to me. I looked down at a pair of black sixes, and thought, what the heck? This was, after all, exactly the kind of hand I was looking to go to war with. I called, the rest of the table folded, and it was heads-up.

The rainbow flop came Ace, Queen … Six. Precisely the kind of hand to hit the Villain’s range, and of course I had just struck Yahtzee. I meekly checked. Villain cut out a monster, pot-sized bet. I hemmed and hawed, and eventually called.

The turn was a three, completing the rainbow. Once more I checked. Once more, Villain bombed the pot. Once more, I hemmed and hawed and called.

The river was a seven, and now was the time to drop the hammer. After a brief, respectable delay, I softly said, “All in” while tossing in a single white chip, and waited. Villain visibly melted. He knew exactly what was up now. However, he also knew that he just had to call; he’d watched me playing for some time now, and he realized that the river bluff was part of my repertoire. His Ace-Jack was no match for my flopped set.

While I was stacking my double-up, I saw that he was muttering to himself. Not in a mean way; he was primarily beating himself up over how he played his hand. Then, just slightly louder, he said, “Well, you hit your hand and just sat back and let me bet it for you.” I said, “Yep, I appreciate that.”

He ended up moving to Seat 6 as soon as the opportunity arose, so that my positional advantage would no longer be there … but by then, the damage had been done.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Different day, different players.

I was at a table blessed with a textbook fish; a rich noob with a bottomless supply of $100 bills, giving away stacks of chips at a time to whoever happened to be in a hand with him, and happily rebuying whenever he hit felt.

The player on my left, on the other hand, was quite good; and ultimately found himself heads-up against our generous Villain. The Hero had turned two pair, and shoved all in. Villain called with his flush draw, and had at most seven outs (roughly a 15% chance to win the hand). As sometimes happens with really bad players, Villain hit his hand on the river and doubled up. Once the hand ended, as my neighbor was cutting out the chips he needed to make the pot right, he said (only half-joking), “I hate you. You know that right? I mean, I really hate you.”

This got some chuckles from the rest of us at the table, so he continued: “I mean, if you got hit by a truck on the way out of the card room, I wouldn't miss you.” I very quickly chimed in, “Well I would!” This brought more laughter from the rest of the table.


Poker humor. You either get it, or you don’t.

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