Poker Articles

"...And Stood There Amazed"
By Lou Krieger

A few months ago I moved "out to the desert," as they say in southern California. In plain English, that translates to Palm Springs, where the population doubles during the winter, as snowbirds arrive from all over the United States and Canada to escape the cold and play golf in a land where the grass is green twelve months a year. A woman at the homeowners association where I bought my condominium told me that fewer than 20 percent of the owners live here year round. Most either use their places as second home getaways, or rent them out during the season. Because of the dramatic population changes between summer and winter, that translates into fairly small poker games during the off season, and on days when I chose not to make the 100 mile drive into Los Angeles, I was faced with the option of playing $4-$8 hold'em, if I chose to play at all.

It's been a long time since I played at limits below $20-$40, and I'd forgotten some of the lessons to be learned there. But there's something to be said for having logged a few hours at these limits, especially when it comes to the realities of proffering advice to readers who regularly play these games and ask questions about them.

Let's face it. Lower limit games are different. It's one thing to advise readers that they'll find more players seeing the flop, more callers in most hands, and not to get too tricky in these games - if, in fact, they get tricky at all - because someone will be bound and determined to keep them honest.

I'm going to describe one of the most remarkable hands I've ever been involved in - it was surely wondrous to behold, even though I lost money - because this hand represents the polar extreme of low limit games. "It can't get any weirder that this, can it," I thought as I saw the hand through to its conclusion. It was so weird, in fact, that what kept running through my mind, as the hand unfolded was a line from one of the later verses of "Home On the Range," that goes "...and stood there amazed." That was me, all right. I was the guy standing there amazed. Amazed absolutely. And in my absolute amazement some of those old lessons about lower limit games were quickly relearned; that's for sure.

Here's how the hand unfolded. I was in sixth position, and the guy to my immediate right was eager to play and hot for the gamble. He straddled at almost every opportunity, and would also raise on almost anything - good cards, bad cards - it made no difference whatsoever - he wanted some action for his time at the table.

I was fortunate enough to be seated to his left, since that allowed me to make it three bets any time he raised and I had a decent hand, and by doing this I stood a good chance of playing these hands heads-up against him. Since his raising standards were almost nonexistent, I stood a good chance of winning whenever he raised and I had a hand that allowed me to three-bet the pot.

On the hand in question, everyone folded to him and he raised the blinds. I looked down to see A-K staring back up at me. Since my hand was probably stronger than his, I made it three bets. Even if I didn't improve, I figured I stood a good chance of beating him anyway. My plan worked to perfection - almost. Everyone behind me folded, except the woman in the small blind, who called two and a half bets. The big blind folded and so did the players between the blinds and the original raiser. He also called my reraise, though it was clear from his actions that he didn't like it.

I caught a flop I loved, A-5-4 of mixed suits. The woman in the small blind checked, the original raiser to my right came out betting, and I raised. The small blind cold called the two bets, and the bettor to my right mumbled and grumbled to himself as he called my raise. I had no idea what either of them had. Even if the chap to my right had an ace, I had no worries at all unless he raised initially with A-4 or A-5. But his body language - and it did not take a master at reading tells to decipher his actions - suggested he was simply calling as a reflex action because he was the original raiser, not because he had any kind of hand.

And what about the small blind? What could she possibly be holding that allowed her to cold call two and a half bets from the small blind and a bet and a raise when an ace flopped? I had no idea at this juncture. I had been at the table only a short time and had no clue as to how she played. She could have had a pair and an inside straight draw or a pair and a backdoor flush draw. Who knows; maybe she called two raises cold with 5-4 suited and had flopped two pair. I hadn't a clue.

The turn brought forth the nine of diamonds, a complete blank, unless someone was sitting there with a pair of nines, or a hand like A-9, and if that were the case I was damn near dead. Once again, the small blind checked. This time the chap to my right checked too. I figured a bet would eliminate at least one of my adversaries and it did just that. While the small blind called my bet, the chap to my immediate right folded with a mumbling soliloquy about fate's unforgiving nature.

Now we were looking toward the river, and I thought I had the best hand. After all, if the woman in the small blind had a strong hand, she'd have probably raised on the turn. But she didn't; she quietly called. Although I had no idea about her skill level, it was clear she'd played a lot of poker before. It was either that or she logged a lot of hours at home practicing her chip-riffling skills as she watched television. So I gave her credit for playing well enough to raise the turn if she had a strong hand, regardless of what kind of hand she might have started with.

The river card was a king. Perfect for me. Now I had top two pair. My opponent could never beat me now, or so I thought. If she had cold called two and a half bets before the flop with a small pair and flopped a set she would have raised on the turn, wouldn't she? And if she had called and made two pair it was no longer of any concern to me, since I had the best two pair possible.

So I did what any red-blooded American boy would do. I bet. She called. I turned over Big Slick, showing her top two pair. She turned over 3-2 offsuit, showing me the absolute nuts. She had flopped a straight, had the best possible hand on every betting round, and never raised me once. Not even on the river, when there was no possible hand I could have held that would beat hers. The words, "Nice hand, ma'am; well played," dripping with every drop of sarcasm they usually carry when uttered at a poker table, came to mind, but they never escaped my mouth. Instead, as I stood there amazed, all I could say was "Wow."

She faked me out, to be sure, but deception is designed to earn the deceiver money, not cost them some. Had she raised the turn I'd have called, even though I'd have figured my pair of aces was then second best. And once I made the top two pair on the river, I probably would have raised if she came out betting, so her overarching caution cost her at least two - and probably three - additional bets. And these were bets, mind you, that carried no risk whatsoever. She had the best hand all the way, and any bet she made was a freeroll. She could either win or be tied; she could not lose.

So what are the lessons to be learned if you find yourself in a game like this? First, when you have opponents that will call with almost anything, there are no safe cards. Any card that does not directly help you stands a good chance of aiding one of your opponents. I was very happy when the flop brought A-5-4 of mixed suites to the table. But in a low limit game there's a far better chance that one of your opponents holds two pair - yes, even fives and fours - than there would be in a game with bigger betting limits. If this had been a $20-$40 game, I'd have been fairly certain I had the best hand, and absolutely sure that the small blind had not cold called two and one half bets with a 3-2 off suit.

A second lesson is that when you are called in low limit games, your opponents probably have something, even when no good draw is apparent, and determining just what that something is can be tough at times. Because of this, one pair is not as likely to win a pot against a gaggle of opponents as it will in a bigger limit game, where far fewer players take the flop and those that do probably won't have the kind of hands that will cause you to stand there amazed.

In a sense, a hand like top-pair in a low limit game is like a drawing hand of sorts - it's a strong drawing hand, to be sure - but one that frequently needs to improve to provide some assurance that it's the best one. I thought I had the best hand all the way, and felt certain about it on the river, when I made the top two pair. Of course I was wrong, but that's to be expected when an opponent with best possible hand never raises, not even after all the cards are out.

All of these really bizarre happenings that can cause one to throw their hands in the air and wonder aloud, "Why me, dear God, why me," are more than made up for by the fact that so many more callers are present and eager to pay you off when you do win a pot. You don't need to win too many pots bursting with extra callers to make up for those chip-burning bizarre outcome hands.

And nothing could be more bizarre than someone calling two and a half bets from the small blind with 3-2 offsuit. After all, it's hard to imagine a worse hand than that, unless it's 7-2 - which can't even make a straight. And if that wasn't bizarre enough, my opponent never raised and cost herself some money as a result.

But the frosting on the cake didn't occur until about 20 minutes later, when the chronic raiser to my immediate right came out firing once again. This time our hero was on the button and released her hand. An elderly chap to her immediate right turned and said, "If you can call a double raise with 3-2 from the blind, what possible hand could you throw away on the button?"

She looked him right in the eye and said, "If you're wondering why I called with 3-2 earlier, it was fate. That's all. I had a hunch. I could sense it." I heard that. The entire table overheard that exchange. And I did exactly what you'd expect me to do. I stood there amazed.