The Poker Grafter

As hollow gestures go, an angry man threatening to punch his opponent’s lights out while in an online poker room, is right up there. How I quivered in fear at home in London, as an 18-year old boy in Stockholm told me that he’d ‘hunt me down and incinerate me.’ It always impresses me when a European can speak so eloquently and offensively in a foreign language. I’m pretty sure I’ll never threaten to ‘incinerate’ anyone in any language, other than in English naturally. Of course all the gaming sites have moderators to assess that the chat content isn’t obscene or vulgar. Yet idle death threats will probably slip through uncensored so long as swear words are kept to a minimum.

I had an image of my irate Swedish foe desperately trying to decipher my identity from the only information at his disposal – namely an alias that bore no relation to my real name. ‘Right, I know he lives in London and he appears to like football. That’s enough to be getting on with for now - off to the airport! Just as soon as I’ve put on some trousers and said goodbye to mummy.’

I wondered if when he finally did track me down whether he might feel, on reflection, that he had over-reacted. Admittedly, my audacity in beating him with AQ against his mighty AK was indeed unforgivable. Yet after a plane journey for reflection he might feel that other people on his hit list had committed even more heinous poker crimes. There was that guy in Berlin who knocked him out of a tournament with Jacks when he had Queens. Not to mention the fiend in Rome who re-raised all-in with 8-2o, outrageously fluked it, and then claimed it was a mis-click.

I always tended to assume that any confrontational chat in online poker was as unproductive as it was unpleasant. If people didn’t want to listen to you they could simply turn off the dialogue and get on with their lives. Even tough talking in its less aggressive form should be quite inconsequential. A classic example of this is the player who thinks he can verbally protect his big blind. When play passes to the small blind, who is considering whether to push, the cry from the big blind will be, ‘I call’. The intention would seem to be to force a fold. If he wants to force a fold, then he surely can’t be that strong himself. Unless he realises this, and really does want some action. In other words, the comment can be interpreted to mean anything and is best to be ignored. The small blind’s decision should be based on other factors.

The verbal big blind defence may go a stage further with the utterance, ‘next time I call with any two cards.’ This comment always strikes me as pretty desperate. You might as well be saying, ‘ok guys, be careful, I’m about to go on tilt.’ It’s exactly what you want to be hearing just before you pick up a genuinely good hand. At this point a gentle bump raise will often encourage an inevitable all-in re-raise to show that he means business. In other words, hook, line and sinker.

So is tough talking on your big blind a waste of time, particularly when you’re playing online? Well, don’t get me wrong, it really should be. But my playing experience has led me to think it ultimately may have some benefit in the right circumstance. Abusive, threatening language has no merit for anyone, but the subtle suggestion that you’ll call, or that you suspect ‘stealing’ may be beneficial so long as it doesn’t sound too desperate.

I suggested earlier that the small blind could read anything into the ‘I call’ comment and should ignore it. The fact is though that many players don’t ignore these comments and that it does affect their decision-making. A weak-minded individual can be willed into folding where they might have called or pushed in a borderline scenario. I’ve seen it happen time and again. I’ll leave it to others to decide whether such mind games are in the spirit of poker. But the fact that this issue can even be discussed dispels the myth that online poker is simply a game of probability and luck, lacking any of the subtleties of the ‘live’ game. Nothing could be further from the truth.

You can wait an eternity for AA to finally find you, so it’s only human nature that you want to make the most of it when the rockets finally arrive. The only problem is that the unbeatable pre-flop cards are distinctly beatable once you see a flop. The best start cards in poker are also among the most over-valued. AA gives you a pre-flop edge, you are a favourite – you are not invincible.

Newcomers to Holdem are particularly prone to slowplaying the big guns. When I started playing I probably limped in with AA more often than I raised, assuming I was first into the pot. I thought there was nothing more annoying than raising three times the big blind just to see everybody fold. If it was the early stages of a sit-n-go I’d be acquiring a meagre 30 chips from the blinds with the best possible holding. Sickening. This happened to me once or twice before I vowed that next time I would just call pre-flop and guarantee some action.

Twenty minutes later I was fortunate enough to pick up AA again which I had already resolved to call with pre-flop. Inevitably nobody raised behind me and I seemed to trigger off some sort of limp-fest. All the calling stations came leaping out of the woodwork. Seven people saw the flop and before I knew it I had my chips all-in to ultimately lose against 10-9 and J10. It’s around this moment that I, like most new players, realised that what’s worse than winning 30 chips with AA is losing 1500 chips with the same hand.

Now don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a black or white decision-making process; I’ve seen the slowplayed rockets triple-up many a player. It can provide an element of disguise to a hand that combined with its inherent strength can be very potent. But when I look at the many examples of a slowplayed AA triumphing it will normally be because the hand is a strong one and not because ‘calling’ pre-flop was an act of unfathomable genius. As always every situation has to be looked at on its own merits. What I would say with confidence and experience is that when I do assess the scenarios nowadays, playing AA as fast as possible seems like the correct move 90% of the time. When you’ve lost thousands of times with AA you start to appreciate its true value. Top pair is a good hand but certainly not a great one in the context of a seven-card game.

The play after the flop is, of course, massively important. Up to this point I’ve generally equated ‘slowplay’ with ‘calling’ pre-flop. But many an ill-advised player takes the trap concept further by checking a threatening board with the sole intention of raising after the turn or river. If you witness this play pattern in a multi-way pot you’ll know that you’re either up against a novice or a poor player. If another ace doesn’t arrive by the river it’s pure insanity to be milking the pot with nothing more than a pair, albeit a very good one. There comes a point when slowplay and bad play amounts to the same thing.

Threatening boards for AA include a flopped pair, particularly with two queens or kings. Now you should be worried about anyone who’s seen a flop with the likes of AQ, AK or KQ, which is quite likely in a multi-way pot. Other potential flop dangers obviously include flush and straight draws, but in these cases you should be ahead and must bet firmly to charge people to chase. But the real danger is that every flop looks quite good with AA in the locker. Learning how to throw the hand away at the right moment is the real test of champions. We’ve all played against players who call all-in with AK after a low flop. Just imagine what sort of cataclysmic event would have to take place to make them fold the bullets!

So when is a good time to finesse play AA? (When I say finesse I essentially mean slowplaying with guile, and reasoning that goes beyond ‘if I raise, everyone else might fold…which is annoying’) Well, if a tournament is short-handed and has essentially become a push and fold contest it is a particularly great time to wake up with aces. If I could choose my moment to trap with a premium hand this would be it, and I want to be in the small blind as well, if that’s not asking too much. In this seat, and with only the blinds to act, a call will normally look like a weak play and the big blind is quite likely to push. Perfect. For me, this is one of the few occasions when a raise may be the wrong move to make. The seat position is crucial though because a flat call on the button for example can seem very suspicious. If a player who has raised or folded every single time suddenly limps in, the alarm bells are ringing. The monster hand is too easily flagged up.

Tellingly, the top players rarely muck about with their best hands. This is normally as good a guide to how to play as you will get. If you frequently slowplay and trap with any two cards you’ll get burnt. And don’t expect any sympathy when you lose trying to be sneaky with AA. Everyone else at the table wants the same cards and the opportunity to play them properly.

Simon Ballou writes for Oddschecker Poker

When I began my poker odyssey years ago I played very little other than fixed limit cash games. These days I wouldn’t sit down at such a game even if I could hand-pick my opponents. You might assume from this that I lost a lot of money in that format. The truth is I didn’t do too badly overall, but the bankroll swings were immensely stressful. In the end I had to ask myself whether or not the amounts I was winning compensated for all the tension and misery that seemed to come with the territory. I decided not.

Now we all know that the ‘beauty’ of Texas Holdem - depending on your point of view – is that just anybody can win a game if they’re lucky enough, regardless of experience and ability. Only in the long-term will the best players prevail. But it seems to me that fixed limit poker takes the biscuit. It could have been invented to lure in unsuspecting, naïve new players to the lair. There may even be an unwritten poker rule that states that the newcomer at the table has special outdraw privileges. Whatever this pact with the devil involves, it seems to allow a novice fixed limit cash player to play every hand, call every bet and still win all the money.

When it’s going well it seems to be the easiest game in the world but when events turn on you it’s hard not to feel powerless. After much deliberation I concluded that good players would be wasting their time pinning all their hopes on fixed limit cash games. This is largely down to being unable to vary your bet size. If you think about it this is a major handicap to good play.

Let’s say for instance that you play tightly until you wake up with a premium hand, which you raise with pre-flop. You’ve already made your one play. It’s now completely out of your hands how many opponents you’ll get. If the competition is loose then it’s not unusual for 4-5 players to call any number of the fixed-sized bets with a wide-range of holdings just to see a flop. You’re big hand is already in huge danger. Individually, the others are heavy underdogs but the chances of one of them beating you by the river are high, especially if your monster fails to improve.

The following scenario has played out in a similar way more times than I care to mention. In a 10-seat ring game I opened the raising with KK. Three players called the raise and one re-raised. When the action returned to me it barely mattered whether I re-raised again or not because history suggested that the players who had called the initial bets weren’t going anywhere without at least seeing a flop first. My four opponents had AQ, 77, 45(spades) and J10 respectively. (I might add that the quality of hands being called with on this occasion was quite high. Fixed limit cash games frequently attract menaces who re-raise to the maximum pre-flop with 7-2o as well).

Anyway, when the flop came Jspade- 9spade-Qheart, I was still leading with an over-pair and feeling obliged to bet and call raises with KK. There was no way the guys with 45(spades), AQ and J10 were going anywhere having all hit a piece of the flop. The thrill-seeker with 77 took the commonly held view that there was ‘too much money in the pot to be folding now either. Fixed limit might as well be called ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’ poker.

So to clarify my predicament I was now in a huge pot, and leading after the flop, but the danger cards which threatened me were any spade, any 7, any 8, any J, any Q and any A. Oh and I nearly forgot, either of the remaining Kings. One of which ‘miraculously’ did appear on the turn giving me a set, but, of course, Mr J10 had hit his straight. There was no miracle full house on the river for me, only another tale of despair. What could I have done differently? Fold after the flop when I was still ahead, or maybe just fold KK from the outset? It was a ridiculous situation which will always occur if you can’t limit the field and you can’t stop the chasing with a big killer bet. In other words, I concluded, fixed limit cash is a game to avoid.

Simon Ballou writes for Oddschecker Poker

I don’t want to be a doom-monger but this week I thought I’d talk about the horrors of the truly bad run and suggest, tentatively, how to cope with it. When I refer to the bad run I’m not talking about losing 4 coinflips out of 5. I’m not even talking about having your premium pair turned over by a 2-outer three times on the trot. No, I’m talking about the nightmare run of bad luck that consumes a regular player for weeks on end where he can literally do no right. He almost always gets his chips in when he’s in front, but by the river he’s behind. Badbeat relentlessly follows badbeat.

The truth is that only the most regular players, who have played thousands of hours of poker over several years, truly understand how bad the luck can get. I can say confidently that many players would never touch a card again if they knew how unfair things can get at times. I know this because after playing for six months I thought I knew the parameters between good and bad luck. I was wrong. I thought the same thing a year later and I was wrong again. Sadly, the more you do play the more likely it is that you’ll see a bad run of almost biblical proportions.

Although this all sounds very depressing and, frankly, it is, the more experienced player should be better equipped to handle what’s thrown at him. This is because the more you play the more you appreciate the psychology of the game. The technical ability to do well is one thing but managing your emotions can be just as crucial.

I think it’s essential to realise that a player can only determine his success so far. All he can do is get his chips in when the situation is favourable. After that it’s in the lap of the poker gods and you just hope the laws of probability hold-up. Any player who thinks he doesn’t need some luck is either completely crazy or hasn’t played very much. Of course self-delusion is rife in the world of poker. ‘It doesn’t matter if I’m unlucky, I’ll bust you anyway,’ is a familiar war cry. As if Lady Luck was just another opponent to be outplayed by an enormous ego. But how often during a typical poker session do you win massive pots when your opponent has no outs at all when the chips go in? It’s very rare, isn’t it. So the luck factor can always come into play.

Many good players feel that they are particularly unlucky. And there is a logical explanation why this seems to be the case. If you’re competent, you’ll be ahead on showdowns more often than you are behind. It therefore stands to reason that there are more opportunities to be outdrawn than to be the outdrawer. What experience comes to tell me is that your ‘lucky’ days are the times when most of your good hands hold-up, even though that just feels like justice.

One thing that amuses me is how many players devise conspiracy theories when the rot sets in. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen online players question the integrity of the gaming site they use. A badbeat will be followed by the revelation that ‘KK never wins on this site,’ for example. Or ‘you’d never see that in a live game.’ And they really mean it, which is ridiculous. It’s the game of poker that can be really unfair; bad luck happens everywhere. Every site I’ve ever played on has people questioning its integrity, which says it all. Why would a gaming site try and fix the game when they make so much money simply hosting legitimate games? It makes no sense.

I once asked a guy who was constantly repeating his allegations of corruption why he kept playing on the site if he was so sure they were effectively stealing from him. He didn’t really have an answer to this but mumbled something about liking the software. So either he didn’t actually believe his own accusation or it didn’t really matter so long as his virtual game looked nice.

But when the bad run finally does end, after what seems like an eternity, all seems right again. When you’re dealt AA your heart doesn’t immediately sink because you just know you’re about to go out in cruel fashion. If you’re a good player you’ll also probably find that the results have improved again but you’re not actually doing much differently.

Simon Ballou writes for Oddschecker Poker

‘I never bluff,’ a tight player once told me with a clear sense of pride. After frequently playing in the same games as him over the subsequent months it was clear that he was as good as his word. It seems to me that announcing you never bluff is a poor strategy unless you really are convinced that your opponents will be wrong-footed when you actually do bluff. But even that assumes, very naively, that everyone takes comments made around a poker table at face value. But to announce that you never bluff and then demonstrate the point for the rest of your life is surely pure madness. 

It’s a strange quirk of poker that many players see gaining respect as very important. In fact for some it seems more important than actually winning money. This leads to a bizarre attitude to bluffing whereby it’s seen as an unworthy, almost despicable act. ‘Well, yes, I’m out of the tournament, it’s true. But at least I didn’t have to resort to duplicity like that rogue over there…Yes him, the one with the mountain of chips…He should be ashamed of himself.’ 

Bluffing shrewdly is integral to the success of any poker player and it doesn’t just involve throwing your chips all-in with nothing and hoping for the best. There’s a big difference between skilful deception and relying on pure luck. Of course many players can’t tell the difference and a good piece of play will often be criticised by a limited player who can’t think outside the box. 

A good example of this that I saw recently saw an orthodox textbook player opening up the pot with a raise in a late seat with A-Q. A more inventive player, who I know to be quite successful, bump re-raised on the button with A-10. Everyone else folded bar the initial raiser who just called. The flop arrived 10-10-5. Both players checked the flop and the rag on the turn. After an ace on the river the initial raiser bet out with top pair only to be re-raised by the button who had now hit the full house.  

The latter had been undeniably lucky but what really infuriated his opponent was the outrage of a re-raise with A-10. A re-raise with A-10 against him of all people! ‘Don’t you realise that when I raise I always have better than A-10, you fool,’ he barked. ‘When you re-raised I assume you must have A-A, K-K or at least A-K.’ This tells us all we need to know about the aggrieved textbook player. If he was so sure that a re-raise equated to a monster premium hand then why did he call it with A-Q? He was of course wrong with this read anyway, which is another problem. 

The good player who re-raises in that spot with A-10 knows several things. Firstly, he has position. The tentative player is terrified of the bump re-raise and is very unlikely to bet into him. This allows for the possibility of a free card if so desired. However, more likely, is that the re-raiser can make a continuation bet on most flops and the initial raiser folds. Even if the flop comes queen high, the tentative holder of A-Q may throw away the best hand to a re-raise, having already convinced himself that his opponent holds A-A or K-K. 

If the flop comes ace high (with no queen or 10) and the initial raiser is very keen, then the good player can probably still get away quite cheaply from A-10, fully aware of his kicker weakness. After all, he targeted a very orthodox player who is hugely unlikely to bluff a re-raiser. Alternatively, he may yet win the pot with the worst hand if he can re-raise convincingly to represent A-A, or more likely A-K. 

The dream scenario that played out for the wily re-raiser was that the flop came with two 10s. Suddenly he had a genuinely huge hand that was almost unreadable. When this occurred he was able to check the flop to imply weakness, or specifically A-K in the mind of his opponent. The player with A-Q then thought he had hit well on the river and bet. But against the feared A-K he would still have been beaten anyway and should therefore have checked with the intention to call, which would have ultimately saved him some chips. 

It’s yet another example where the player handing out the criticism has also been the one who played the hand worse. He’s just too blinkered to see it. All and all it showed the beauty of what amounted to a well-timed, positional bluff re-raise. What he got for his trouble was an earful of abuse - but a substantial boost to his chip stack.