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The Art Of Semi-Bluffing
by Fred Renzey
In make-believe poker, the hero runs the villain out of the pot with a convincing, well-timed bluff. In real-life, limit stakes poker however, bare naked bluffs seldom work. That's because in a game like $10/$20 limit poker, there is just too much money to run somebody out of a $150 pot with a $20 bluff.
Bluffing does have its place in limit poker, but it usually needs a little help. The real value of bluffing in true-life limit poker comes in something called semi-bluffing. That's when you bet or raise with only a reasonably good hand that might look better than it is, but is easy to improve upon. Playing this way teams together two powerful poker offensives (betting strongly combined with the chance of making a good hand) and gives the bluff a little help. Semi-bluffing gives you more ways to win the pot than if you'd played your hand passively. Top-notch players use the semi-bluff in the play of their hands, even though they may almost never attempt an outright steal. Here's an example from 7 Card Stud.
Picture starting out a Stud hand with the 3 of diamonds and the 3 of hearts in the hole with the king of spades up. A deuce brings it in, then a 10 raises and you call. The deuce now folds and you're left alone with the raiser who possibly has a pair of 10s. Next, you buy the queen of spades and being high, but having only a pair of 3s, you check, as does your opponent who caught a 6. On fifth street, you catch a jack of spades while your opponent makes an open pair of 6s and bets them. You call.
Here's how the situation looks:
YOU: 3-3 / Ks-Qs-Js
OPPONENT: ?-? / 10 - 6 - 6
Have you noticed what happened? Because of the way you've played up to now, about the only way you can win this pot is to make the winning hand. That's because you never gave your opposition any reason to fear you, even though you had a playable hand and a fearsome board. Let's go to the beginning and see if things could have come out differently.
On the first three cards when the deuce brought it in and the 10 raised, if you had re-raised, would the 10 have called, looking at a king? Probably ‹ but maybe not. This could've been a chance to steal the pot early. If he did call, he's probably playing in fear of your king. That's important.
When you catch the suited queen on the fourth street, if you bet right out, would the 10/6 have called there? Quite possibly not ‹ another possible chance to win the pot while probably holding the worst hand. But if he did call again, when you proceeded to buy the jack of spades on fifth street, would your opponent have bet his open pair of 6s? Very unlikely. Think about how scary your board would now look considering that you'd been raising and betting all the way.
Suppose your opponent did check his 6s to you. Should you bet even though your hand is beaten in sight? Unless you're up against a veritable calling station, positively. Why? First, because your opponent may fold fearing a myriad of strong hands (judging by the appearance of your board). If he does call and your sixth card is any ace, king, queen, jack, 10 or spade (more than half the remaining deck), your opponent almost can't call unless he has a pretty big hand himself. If your sixth card is a blank, he'll probably still check to you. If he does bet, you have enough potential to call even if you're sure he already has 10s and 6s. Notice that because of the cards you caught and the way you bet them, your opponent was not that unlikely to give up his hand on any street.
The moral to this story is, if you start out with a hand that's worth playing and looks formidable, semi-bluffing is often better than just calling for three reasons:
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Your opponent may choose not to get involved in an expensive pot.
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You may catch intimidating cards that will drive the opposition out later.
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You may actually make the winning hand.
If you just check and call, you cannot win via numbers 1 or 2. You need to give yourself those extra ways of winning the pot, and semi-bluffing provides them. Don't get carried away with this tactic and become overly aggressive. Semi-bluffing isn't something that should be done every time you have a playable second-best hand. If you do it habitually, your opponents will begin to disregard your
"unimpressive" raises and play right through you. So pick your hands and pick your opponents carefully.
Fred Renzey is a poker and blackjack expert, author and gaming columnist. His Blackjack Bluebook can be ordered by sending a check for $14 plus $2.75 s&h to Blackjack Bluebook, P.O. Box 598, Elk Grove Village, IL 60009.
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7 Stud Hi/Lo Split: The Curse Of The High Hand
by Fred Renzey
7 Stud Hi/Lo 8-or Better is a tricky game. Even though you need an
"8" low minimum to win the low half, proper strategy favors playing low hands
over high hands. It takes most players a while ‹ some forever ‹ to accept
this. Let's look at the two starting hands below:
HAND #1: 9s - Jc / Js
HAND #2: 7s - 5c / 3s
A starting pair of jacks may or may not win the high half of the pot. It
might even "scoop" it all when nobody makes an 8 low. But the important
thing is:
Those two jacks with a 9 kicker can never, ever win low.
You just can't re-route a high hand. Now look at the 7/5/3. It's a pretty
good start for low ‹ but that's not all. It's not a classic low straight
draw, but every once in a while it'll still turn into a 7 high straight
which is a good high and low at the same time. Another overlooked benefit of
a low start is that when it misses its low, it often misses by pairing. Plenty of pots have been scooped with a hand like 7-5/ 3-7-2-6 /5. That's
two pair and a 7 low. Has this ever happened to you when you still had two
jacks at the river?
Lastly, the 7/5/3 could get lucky, make a flush and still make a low.
Since any low start could win high, yet an all high start can never win low,
it turns out that you should fold the majority of your high starts in Stud
8-or Better. This truth will bring itself to bear on your high pairs while
you're playing them. Picture yourself in the Stud-8 or Better hand below:
YOUR HAND OPPONENT'S HAND
10-Q/ Q - 3 - K ?-?/ 5 - 3 - 6
You raised coming in, bet again on fourth street and the 5 quietly called
both bets. Now what? If he's made a low, the best you can do is get your
money back plus half the antes and bring-in. If he has or makes a straight,
you're virtually dead. If he's made two concealed pair or trips, you're a
dog to get any part of the pot ‹ and he can still make a low. Yet, the least
a rational opponent will have here is a small pair with a low draw. There's
almost no way he doesn't have a playable hand against you, but you may very
well not have a playable hand against him.
Can you see how your hand is paralyzed? It could be worse. What if his
board was a two-suited 5/7/6 or 5/3/4? Now you have to give him the pot even
though he might only have something like 2-6 / 5-7-6. You may have the best
hand, yet you have to lay it down. Your opponent knows just about where
you're at and can play his hand effectively.
That's how handcuffed you are when you play an obvious high hand in this
game. If you get to fifth street and your opponent has three low cards on
board, you're at his mercy. Going by strict mathematical odds, a high pair
on third street is the favorite over a semi-flexible three card low ‹ but:
The low hand has such a betting advantage that it all works out the other
way around.
Wouldn't you rather sit on the other side of the table, be more in
control and even take down a few pots with the worst hand? Still and all,
this is not to say that you can never play a high pair in Stud-8 or Better ‹
although most should be mucked at the start. The critical thing to recognize
is that all high pairs are not created equal. Three key factors could make
them playable. Any one of them will often do the trick. They are:
1) If it's a pair of aces.
2) If it's buried with a low door card.
3) If you have nearly perfect position.
Factor #1: A pair of aces is much better than a pair of kings in this
game. With the kings, any low hand that contains an ace will knock you off
if he happens to pair it ‹ not so with aces.
Factor #2: A hand like 9-Q/ Q is much weaker than a Q-Q/ 6. If you play
the split pair, everybody knows you have a high hand, probably two queens.
Your low opponent(s) will yield if they blank on the turn and put on the
pressure if they make a low on fifth street. If you have the queens buried
with a low door card, your hand has some mystery to it. You can usually play
buried queens with a low kicker, but seldom split queens.
Factor #3: Suppose a deuce brings it in three seats to your left,
everybody folds up to you and there's just a 9 and a jack left to act. The
deuce has two random cards in the hole and the jack or the 9 have high hands
if they have anything. So now you're in great shape even with split queens
and should raise it up. If you're ever going to play a split high pair (lower than aces), you need conditions practically as good as those just
described.
Don't learn this lesson the expensive way. When a deuce brings it in, a 5
calls, a 3 calls, and it's up to you with a king behind you ‹ muck your 9-Q
/ Q.
Fred Renzey is a poker and blackjack expert, author and gaming columnist.
His critically acclaimed Blackjack Bluebook can be ordered by sending a check for $14 plus $2.75 s&h to Blackjack Bluebook, P.O. Box 598, Elk Grove
Village, IL 60009.
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Lifestyle
of a Professional Poker Player by Lou Krieger
Meet professional poker player Daniel
Negreanu. He lives the lifestyle every Thursday night poker player
dreams about, but it is neither as easy nor as carefree as one might
think.
Still on the sunny side of 30,
Toronto-born Daniel Negreanu would appear to have it made. After all, he
is living everyone's dream, or at least the dream of everyone who is a
frequent, or even a some-of-the-time poker player. Daniel plays poker
for a living. That's all he does. It's his job. But saying that he "plays"
for a living is an understatement, and a severe one at that. It's like
saying Sachmo played pretty good trumpet, or that Sammy Sosa is a pretty
good baseball player.
Lots of guys play poker for a living,
or at least they try to. The majority are hometown champs who come to
Las Vegas, Los Angeles, or other places where one can find a game eight
days a week, but most either don't make it, or cling so tenuously to a
marginalized existence that they'd be much better off holding down a
9-to-5 job and playing poker on the side. Most of these subsistence pros
either don't have the skill, or they lack the discipline to play the way
they know they should even when the going gets tough. Others are prone
to all sorts of bad habits that eat through their bankroll until there's
nothing left but a return flight to wherever it was they came from, or a
job driving a cab between the airport and the casinos on the Las Vegas
strip.
Some do better. They join the
workaday world of professional poker players who grind away, trying to
eke out an average of one big bet per hour, five or six days a week. And
these guys are not bad, either. After all, when the betting limits are
$20-$40 or $30-$60, and you can win $40 or $60 an hour, it beats most
salaried jobs all to hell. At least it does until you stop to consider
the benefits like health insurance and a paycheck that's there whether
you performed your best all week or not.
A long time ago some anonymous pundit
said that poker was "a tough way to make an easy living," and he was
right on the mark. It is tough. Consider this: most jobs pay a salary,
and you get paid whether you are a superstar or just a guy who shows up
and puts in a day's work. Other jobs require more of a risk. If you're
in sales, you're probably on commission. And you don't get paid if that
sale slips through your fingers, no matter how much effort you might
have put into wooing the client. But unlike all of these endeavors,
poker is a job where you can show up for work each day and lose
money.
Still, everyone who can't wait for
Thursday evening to roll around so they can get out of the house and go
to their weekly poker game, or get down to their local casino for a few
hands of Texas Hold'em, Omaha, or 7-Card Stud, seems to envy the guy who
does nothing but play poker day in and day out, every day of the week,
every week of the year.
Daniel earns his livelihood playing
poker. And he doesn't just grind it out either. He plays tournament
poker most of the time, and he competes against the very best players in
the world. The routine is often grueling, traveling from tournament to
tournament, putting his own money on the line, having to foot his own
travel bills, and cashing only if he is good enough (and lucky enough)
to outlast the vast majority of his opponents and finish in the money.
Golfers, bowlers, and tennis players live this peripatetic life too, but
with one major exception. While entry fees are required for events,
sponsors eager to reap rewards for their investment put up huge sums for
prize pools. In tournament poker, the prize pool is made up solely of
entry fees posted by players.
We all remember the guy who wins the
main event at the World Series of Poker and walks off with a
million-and-a-half bucks, but everyone forgets about all the other
hopefuls (pros and wannabees alike) who ponied up their $10,000 entry
fees that comprised the entire prize pool. Someone wins, and lots of
people lose. That's poker; it's a "zero-sum" game. It's Darwinism, it's
capitalism, and it's nature "red in tooth and claw." And if we can't be
the victor, we can envy him. Basketball players want to "be like Mike."
Poker players want to be like Daniel.
According to Negreanu, "It is my
opinion, and the opinion of many of the high-limit players I've asked,
that only one in 1,000 players who attempt to play poker for a living
become truly successful. Some can't handle the emotional turmoil, or
they lack the ability to overcome those predictable bad runs of cards
that are going to occur in every player's life."
Daniel didn't grow up wanting to
become a professional poker player. "I sort of just happened into it,"
he says. "It was a gradual thing. One day I woke up and realized I was a
poker player. I was 18 years old then, playing mostly in the underground
clubs around Toronto, but that was how and where I started. I've been
playing one-third of my life now, and poker has been my only means of
income."
Winning in Toronto games was one
thing, winning in Vegas quite another. After a few uneventful trips to
gambling's Mecca, Daniel went to Vegas again, and split a satellite for
the World Series of Poker with two other players. The next day he
entered the $2,000 buy-in, pot-limit Hold'em tournament. Looking to gain
some experience against the finest players in the world, he got lucky
instead and walked away with one of the coveted bracelets awarded
winners of World Series of Poker events, and a first prize of
$170,000.
Now he had the bankroll he never had
before, and won more than a dozen tournaments since then. He is one of
the more successful tournament professionals, and represents a new breed
of players, well read, educated in poker theory, computer literate, and
is different from the older, Texas road gambler school of poker players
(typified by the legendary Amarillo Slim Preston, Doyle Brunson, and
Puggy Pearson). He's as different as Kobe Bryant is from Bob Cousy.
Winning begat more winning for
Daniel, and more importantly, it supported the lifestyle he wanted.
While he didn't have a day job to quit, the wolf was away from his door
and he was free to enjoy life on his own terms.
What's the lifestyle of a poker
player all about? In Daniel's case, it's actually two lifestyles: one on
the road and another at home. When on the road he is living in a hotel
and playing in tournaments. Some tournaments are three or four weeks
long, include as many as 20 individual events or more, and are played
out day after day. "During those times, I'm usually working hard, and my
life is organized around the starting and ending times of the various
events I've entered," says Daniel. "If
it's a daytime event, and I'm eliminated early, I'll play in some live
action games, have dinner, then go up to my room and check the hockey
scores. I always bring my laptop, so I can keep in touch with my friends
and my world while I'm away from home." He
does this day in and day out on the road, and he travels approximately
eight months of the year, spending the remainder of the time at home in
Las Vegas, a city he loves because "you can do whatever you like 24
hours a day. If you wake up at 3 a.m., decide you want a steak dinner
and a poker game, it's ready and waiting for you." But
the road does get tiring and it begins to wear, and Daniel was on the
verge of feeling burned out from all the travel, all the hotel rooms,
and the repetitive nature of tournament life. So he took most of the
year off in 2000, venturing out to only a few events outside of Las
Vegas. When
he is at home, it's a vacation of sorts. "I don't play poker every day
when I'm in Las Vegas. Instead, I'll sleep in, get up and play golf or
just hang out with friends, go to dinner, catch up on movies, go to some
clubs, and treat myself like a guest in my own hometown." About
three days a week he plays poker, and he plays in some of the biggest
games found anywhere in the world on a regular basis. "I play at betting
limits of either $200-$400 or $400-$800," Daniel told me. There's only
one place games this big are spread (at the Bellagio Hotel on the Las
Vegas strip) so he plays against many of the same opponents day after
day in these games. I
asked him where his edge was in games like these, against opponents who
presumably know better (or at those betting limits they ought to), and
his answer surprised me. "Players who play in the same game day in and
day out are predictable. They fall into habits, while I'll continually
try to learn. I don't play in this game every day, so it remains fresh
for me, while a lot of others are playing like they're just going though
the motions." That's
a thin edge, isn't it, particularly in games against well-heeled,
skilled opponents, all of who can probably play the game as well as
anyone else at the table? But Daniel's razor-thin edge is sufficient to
sustain him even in the Bellagio's rarefied air. He is always learning,
always looking to gain an edge by picking up some shard of knowledge
that his opponent might not have, and always trying to keep the game
fresh, so he never reverts to a robotic style of play adopted by many
players who log so many hours at the table that their decision making
becomes more like a conditioned reflex than creative poker play. Despite
his success at the highest levels of this game, and having won enough
money to take the year off in 2000 and keep himself on vacation the
entire time, he recognizes that not everyone will have the success he
has. To those who want to emulate his success and become a professional
poker player, Daniel offers some words of advice (and caution). "Keep
your day job. Take a leave of absence if you can, but give yourself an
Śout.' By having a day job," he wrote in a recent article in Card
Player Magazine, "it'll be easier for you to take a loss. You won't have
to worry about poker paying your rent." He goes on to say that anything
that relieves the stress of having to win is a good thing, and
supplementing your income with poker winnings can be the best of both
worlds. Daniel
recommends always having a backup plan, a "Plan B," or as poker players
would say, "having an out." That out is important if playing poker for a
living "doesn't quite work out the way you hoped." Plan B is important,
because only one in 1,000 will make the grade. "But that one might be
you. Even if you have the ability, you'll have to be dedicated. You'll
have to take the game seriously at all times, maintain your focus, and
always continue to learn." Daniel's
a guy who's had astonishing success at an early age. And by all
appearances he handles it quite well. He maintains a balanced lifestyle,
doesn't have any of those bad habits that derailed any number of
otherwise good poker players, and he is unwilling to rest on his
laurels. Sure, he took the entire year off in 2000, but he continues to
think about the game, to discuss it with peers, and to focus intently on
continuing to identify issues and questions that he can work on. As he
uncovers answers, he is improving his game. And poker, like most other
human endeavors, is a moving target. If you're not practicing and
working to better your skills, somewhere your opponents are. And if you
aren't moving forward they'll soon pass you, and you run the risk of
waking up to find that you've been lapped by the field and are now bait
in the water for hungry sharks. Like
many glitzy endeavors, poker looks more glamorous from the outside.
While there is glamour on the inside, there's also a hell of a lot of
hard work that has to be done in order to maintain the lifestyle that
looks so carefree and easy to the casual observer. Daniel has done it.
He is a big success in the poker world at a young age and he shows no
sign of slowing down. He can play golf every day in Las Vegas and show
up for "work" at the Bellagio's $400-$800 game whenever the spirit moves
him. He is not on a time clock. He is his own boss, and he can go out
for a steak dinner at 3 a.m. and nobody's there to say he can't. It's a
nice lifestyle. It's full. It's fun. It's rewarding. But it's not easy.
Not by a long shot. It only looks that way. You, dear reader, may think
it's easy, but Daniel won't. He's nobody's fool, and he is not at all
afraid of hard work (not even when it's a game). Lou
Krieger's work can be found in several national gambling magazines. He
is the author of four books: Gambling For Dummies, Poker For Dummies,
Hold'em Excellence: From Beginner to Winner, and More Hold'em
Excellence: A Winner For Life. He was recently selected as one of the
best gaming writers of the past 100 years. You can visit his website at www.loukrieger.com.
His books are also available at major bookstores everywhere.
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True
Tales From The Poker Tables
by Fred Renzey
It’s been a year since the
Midwest’s first major-sized poker room opened in Shakopee, Minnesota
and nearly a decade since riverboats with poker rooms began trolling
down the Mississippi. But Midwesterners have been playing poker for a
whole lot longer than that. I
remember my own initial foray into “real” poker back in March of 1978.
I was a mechanical designer at a major electronics firm and we were hit
with a big time flash snow storm. The city had already parked its snow
removal equipment for the season, but this was the fiercest looking
blizzard we’d seen in years. All the smart ones had left for home early.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, employees were coming back in
the door saying, “Forget it, nobody’s going anywhere tonight.
Management was nice enough to come
over the PA and announce that coffee and bakery goods would be
complimentary for the roughly 2,000 stranded workers. Along about 9
p.m., I took a walk down to the purchasing department to see what was
shaking with my buddy Doc. As I entered his office, there he was along
with four or five other loyal employees playing poker on a mahogany
conference table.
"Freddie; grab a seat — it’s
gonna be a long night,” invited Doc as he threw a dollar bill into the
pot. The primary game was 5-Card Stud. You could bet a dollar, two bucks
on a pair. This was BIG money. Until then, all I’d ever played was a
very recreational game of nickel/dime with my family on holidays.
I had about $30 in my wallet, so I
figured I’d pull up a chair and play a few hands. Fourteen hours later
I was completely tapped out, but the seed had been indelibly planted. I
made it home safe and sound that next afternoon and went straight to
bed. You’d think I’d pass right out from exhaustion, but no.
Instead, poker hands kept rolling through my mind like an 8-millimeter
film. So many “what ifs” remained unanswered. “What if I had
raised instead of called — would Doc have played that king/7 then?
Should I have folded that damn pair of 5s? I wonder how easy is it to
fill an open-end straight with one card to come, anyway? Who invented
silly putty and why?” I knew right then and there that these questions
weren’t going to go away. I was hooked on poker.
In my 23 years of playing the
“great American pastime,” I’ve met some colorful characters, seen
many strange things and pulled off a few silly stunts myself. Let me
relate some of these amusing tales to you here today.
THE SHORT HAND
In 1980 I was playing poker at the El
Dorado Club in a suburb of Los Angeles. California has had legal card
rooms since I don’t know when, but all they played there was Draw
Poker in those days. The game on this particular day was jacks or better
to open. I was dealt queens and 4s in the first seat and checked with
the intention of check-raising an opener. The bet passed all the way
around to the dealer (you dealt your own game in those days) and I
feared it would be passed out completely and redealt. But alas, the
dealer (last to act) opened it and I breathed a sigh of relief. One by
one, the players folded as the action came full circle back around to
me. I check-raised as planned, feeling satisfied that my clever plan had
cleared its first hurdle. The opener/dealer then called my raise and
beckoned, “Cards?”
“Give me one,” I requested,
closely watching and hoping that he needed three. “I’ll take
three,” he obliged. Bingo. Step two had gone down perfectly. Then it
happened. As I reached for my draw card I noticed something was wrong
— terribly wrong. Face down on the table, clutched beneath my hands
were my original cards — all two of them. Somehow, someway I had
discarded not one card, but three cards.
“Wait a minute,” I screamed.
“Where’s my hand?” “You asked for one,” the dealer said,
“and I gave you one.” Sure enough, toward the middle of the table
were three discards. “I threw away too many,” I groaned, leaning
towards them. “No, no. You can’t pick up the dead wood,” my
opponent objected. I was beside myself with panic. How could I have
discarded three cards? “Well then I need two more cards,” I
demanded. “You can’t, I already gave myself three,” exclaimed the
dealer. “I can’t give you one, me three and then you two more. I
think your hand should be dead, you haven’t got five cards,” he
declared.
Play stopped and we called over a
floorperson. After reviewing the details, it was ruled that although my
hand would not be declared dead, I could not draw any more than the one
card I asked for, but would be allowed to play out the hand with three
total cards. Up to this point I hadn’t even looked at my hand to see
which ones I threw away. But the terrifying moment of truth had arrived
as I cupped my hand and squeezed apart — two crummy little 4s. I had
discarded the two queens and a kicker.
The dealer who had opened, now peeked
at his three new draw cards and bet right out. Chances are that he
improved to two big pair. My mood right about then was something in
between disgust and despair. How could I have done something this lame?
“Oh well,” I consoled myself, “if he made kings up or aces up,
that probably would’ve beaten me anyway, since I’d have only
improved my two pair on the draw one time in 12.” Now I pulled in my
single draw card, for what little good it could do and bent up the
corner. It was a 4. Quickly I shuffled all three cards together and
looked at them again one at a time. They were 4, 4, 4. “Raise,” I
said in my most casual possible tone. “What? Now you’re raising,”
he asked as he flung his call into the pot.
I spread my trip 4s on the table as
he sat there totally transfixed for three or four seconds. “That’s
just ‘F-ing’ beautiful,” he sneered as he tossed aces and kings
face up on the board. “Seat open,” he muttered as he rose and left
the table. I was thoroughly embarrassed and belittled, but I got over
it.
That was a personal poker story.
Unlikely as it was, it can’t hold a candle to the most legendary poker
tale I’ve ever heard. That’s the infamous Torn Hand Incident.
TORN HAND INCIDENT
Rumor has it that it occurred back in
the 1950s in one of the western states. The game was Lowball Draw, ace
to 5, either pot or no limit. There was three- or four-way action in a
good sized pot. One particular player drew one card, squeezed it out,
cussed disgustedly, then ripped his whole hand in half while he checked.
The next player who also drew one looked at his card and proceeded to
bet his entire stack of chips. Everybody else folded except the player
who tore his cards. What did he do? He called the all-in bet and turned
up a wheel (perfect low) — in 10 pieces. They say that all hell broke
loose, but in the end the torn hand was allowed to play since it could
be read in its entirety. Talk about an angle shooter. I don’t know if
a stunt like that will ever be outdone. But it’s angle shots like that
which have caused a long standing poker etiquette rule to be revised in
many major card rooms around the country. That’s the old Can’t Beat
The Board Rule.
“CAN’T BEAT THE BOARD”
RULE
Picture the old days. I mean the
really old days, like 1920 or so. Back then, a lot of 5-Card Stud was
played with one down and four up. Let’s say the pot got down to two
players and the high board bet with an open pair of 6s and his opponent
called with no pair on the board. Naturally, you’d think the caller
could beat the 6s once he turned up his hole card. Otherwise, why would
he call unless he never saw the pair on board? In those days, if the
caller turned up a hand that couldn’t even beat his opponent’s
board, it was recognized as an ineligible call and that last bet was
returned to him — since he called with a hand that couldn’t possibly
win. It was originally a matter of honor and etiquette.
Today, all that’s been changed in
most public poker rooms. Now in most stud games if you call with a hand
that can’t beat the board, you lose that last wasted bet. Why?
Angleshooters. Here’s what I mean. Suppose you’ve noticed that your
opponent is the type of player who will just fire his hand into the muck
when he realizes he’s beat. He doesn’t want you to see his hole
cards and since he’s lost the pot, he won’t have to show them if
they’re gone before you can ask to see them. Now, what if this player
bets into you on the end with those open 6s on board and you don’t
even have a pair yourself, but you call hoping that he’ll figure
he’s got to be beat and will instantly pitch his hand. If he does
that, you get the pot.
And what if that doesn’t work and
your opponent hangs onto his hand lamenting, “You got me Joe, the 6s
are all I have.” Well, he gets the pot with the best hand, but under
the old rule, you’d get your bet back because you couldn’t beat his
board. Hence, you will have gotten a free shot at the pot because it was
never going to cost you anything. Either you’d win the pot or you’d
get your bet back. Besides that, you would have gotten a free look at
his hole cards, since you knew he couldn’t keep your bet. That’s why
in most modern day cards rooms, there is no “Can’t Beat the Board
Rule. SEAT OPEN
There’s no question that poker
players will go to great lengths to play poker, and to keep playing
poker in the face of adversity. I’ve heard stories of 19th-century
paddleboats sinking with passengers fleeing for their lives, yet a poker
player could be heard begging,“We got time for one last hand, I’m
stuck.”
When I first started playing in Las
Vegas in 1979, someone told me a story about an elderly man who had a
heart attack and collapsed unconscious at the table. He fell face-down
right into his cards. The floorman called for paramedics who came and
tried in vain to resuscitate the man. Tragically, he had died playing
poker. After several minutes, they hoisted him onto a stretcher and
wheeled him away. In witnessing such a traumatic event, the other seven
players sat silently in their seats just staring at each other. What
could there possibly be to say? Just two words, and they were called out
loud and clear by one of the players to the floorman: “Seat
open.”
FLOP POKER REVOLUTION
Back in those days, Stud Poker was
the main game in Vegas. Stud High, Stud Hi-Lo Split and “Razz”
(7-Stud Lowball) were all mainstays. Texas Hold’em was fairly new, but
was indeed taking the town by storm and everybody was learning it. The
idea of flopping community cards in the middle of the table was pretty
unique to public sanctioned poker.
Then about 1983, an exotic hybrid of
Hold’em, called “Omaha,” broke into town. With Omaha there were
also five flopped community cards in the center of the table, but the
players held four cards in their hands rather than just two. They could
use any two of their four hole cards in conjunction with any three from
the board to make their best poker hand. This blew the minds of poker
purists used to playing with just five or seven cards. The possible
combinations of poker hands with this new format were seemingly endless.
What was becoming of true grit poker?
Well just like everything else, poker
was evolving. Omaha caught on because, with all its extra hand
combinations, it produced a lot of action and action makes poker fun. In
fact, Omaha multiplied itself into two different games; High Omaha and
Omaha Hi-Lo Split. The new rage proved to be no passing fancy. Omaha
Hi-Lo Split remains one of the more popular games in casino card rooms
to this day.
In fact, split-pot poker in general
is becoming pretty popular at the time of this writing. Many of the
largest card rooms in the country regularly run “mixed” games such
as H.O.S.E. and a few others. H.O.S.E. is four different poker forms
played at the same table, one after the other. The H stands for
Hold’em; O stands for Omaha Hi-Lo Split; S is for 7-Stud and E denotes
Eight or better Stud Hi-Lo Split. The games usually change over every
half hour or after nine hands of each game has been dealt. Mixed games
give poker players who are “all around athletes” a chance to excel
in games where poker specialists (those who are very strong in one game
only) may expose some holes in their weaker games.
MISTAKES THAT PAY OFF
That brings up a comical incident
that occurred in a mixed $40/$80 game I was playing in a couple of years
back. The game rotation had just switched over to 7-Card Stud, high only
and three players were betting and raising heavily. The pot had swelled
to about $1,500. When it came down to the river (7th card), the high
board showing 10-K-K-3 of mixed suits checked. The next player with
Q-K-A-7 on board bet $80 and then the last player with 4-6-9-4 and three
hearts showing raised it to $160. The open pair of kings threw his hand
into the muck and then the Q-K-A-7 folded his hand, giving the pot to
the raiser. “You’re kidding,” exclaimed the winner. “I only
raised because I have the low locked up. I’ve got a 6-perfect with no
pair.”
The other two players just sat there
in stunned disbelief. “Bob, you knucklehead,” one of them chided,
“The game is high only.” Bob was playing the wrong game. He thought
it was Hi-Lo Split, but his raise into two formidable looking high
boards led his opponents to be convinced he must have either a heart
flush or 4s full since a good low hand would be totally worthless. As
absentminded as his mistake was, he was still stuck with the pot. I
guess it just goes to show that if you make enough mistakes in this
game, some of them will turn out to make you money.
So if you’re just a casual poker
player and are intimidated about getting into the action in a public
card room, don’t be. Any embarrassing mistake you might possibly make
in a $3 & $6 game for a $50 pot has already been showcased at a much
higher level for hundreds — maybe thousands of dollars.
— Fred Renzey is Midwest Gaming
& Travel’s Poker Pundit columnist and a respected poker and
blackjack expert. He is the author of the Blackjack Bluebook.
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