Opening the Door to Disaster

by Daniel Negreanu

So, 839 people pony up $10,000 in hope of winning the "Big One." I think a "wow" is in order. Well, I just happened to be one of those 839 players with a dream, hoping that the cards would fall my way and I'd be able to seize the opportunity when they did. On the hand I'm about to share with you, though, I'm not so sure that I did.

Going into day No. 2, I was a little disappointed to start with $21,625 in chips. It's not that I was below the average, but I lost a crucial hand to Alan Goehring in the last 40 minutes of day No. 1 that chopped my $40,000 stack almost in half - and not to mention the fact that if I'd won that hand, I'd be entering day No. 2 with roughly $60,000 in chips. Oh, well.

My starting table for the day wasn't exactly what I was hoping for. Phil Ivey was to my immediate right with a monster stack, which would make things uncomfortable for me all day long. After just two levels, though, I caught a lucky break and got moved to a new table. Of course, after seeing my new table, I wouldn't exactly call it a lucky break at all. To my immediate right was the aggressive Sammy Farha with a mountain and a half of chips, and to his right was Barry Greenstein with just a mountain of chips. I wasn't too familiar with the rest of the players, but they all had big, imposing stacks.

With Barry and Sammy to my right, it was going to be extremely difficult to pick up very many blinds and antes. Either Barry would raise and Sammy would call, or Barry would fold and Sammy would raise. If I wanted to play a pot, I'd have to invest a higher percentage of my chips to see a flop than I would like, or come over the top and "hope" Barry and Sammy were weak and no one behind me would wake up with a big pair. All in all, it wasn't much different than the table I was at previously, except now there were two loose, aggressive players to my immediate right rather than one!

Normally, I wouldn't mind so much, but without the proper amount of ammunition, my weapons were limited. I'd have to play "the waiting game" and hope to catch some cards. My chips fluctuated between $13,000 and $30,000 for most of the day. I never really got over the hump, but I felt lucky to recover several times from a dangerously low stack. With blinds of $300-$600 and antes of $75 a man, I had about $23,000 when this hand came up:

I was under the gun with the 8 8 and came in with a raise to $2,000. Normally, I would raise less than that, but with two loose, aggressive players in the blinds, I wanted them to at least think about throwing their hands away. If I made it $1,500 or $1,600, I think I'd get at least one of the two blinds to call close to 90 percent of the time, considering their stack sizes compared to mine and their propensity to play lots of marginal hands.

(Some may suggest that my raise was still too small, and that I should have come in for at least $2,400, but that's just not my style at all.)

So, anyway, everyone folded around to Sammy in the big blind, and he doesn't disappoint. The flop comes J 7 5 . This looks like a good flop for me. There's just one overcard to my pair of eights, and I also have a flush draw with the 8 . Sammy checked.

Now, it usually would be correct to make a decent-sized bet in this situation, but my instincts told me that Sammy was getting a little fed up with me. You see, in several previous hands, he'd seen me bet the flop with a weak hand in hope of stealing it right there. If I bet here, I thought a check-raise was a genuine threat. If I was to get check-raised, that would put me in a horrible situation, as I'd have to make a tough decision.

I decided to check and give Sammy a free card. If the turn card was another good one for me, I would have to reassess my strategy. The turn card was the K . I wouldn't call that a great card, as Sammy could easily be holding a king in his hand. Sammy checked again, and I was confident that I had the best hand, but not so confident that I could fade a potential check-raise. I checked, also.

Now, here's where it gets a little sticky. Either one of us could have the nuts here. I could be trapping Sammy with the nut flush, or vice versa. Of course, I know all I have is a pair of eights, so I'm not trapping, but there is no reason to think Sammy isn't. The river brings the 8 .

Hmm ... that's an interesting card. It fills the potential 10-9, 9-6, and 6-4 straights - all hands Sammy would gladly call a $1,400 raise with. There is now $4,975 in the pot and Sammy decides to bet just $2,000.

Hmm ... I still think I've got him. It looks to me like Sammy is just value-betting a pair of kings or a pair of jacks - sorta hoping I'll call but not raise. Now, here is where I get greedy. As I said earlier, there is no reason to think Sammy can't have the nuts, so I should just throw the $2,000 in and hope my set of eights is good.

Nope, I decide they are good, but $2,000 isn't enough. I raise him $3,000 more! What was I thinking? I don't know, apparently I wasn't.

Then again, even if Sammy did river a straight, he couldn't raise me back, as I could have been slow-playing the nut flush. Sammy not only calls my $3,000 raise, he reraises me $10,000 more! What have I just done here? If I call this bet and lose, I'll be left with just under $6,000, which is not good.

I clearly didn't give this hand enough time on each street, including the river. I quickly changed my mind, thinking my set was no good, and mucked them faceup. Sammy showed me only one card, the A . "Oh, no," I thought. Sammy is a pot-limit Omaha player, a game in which the naked ace bluff is pretty common. What that means, basically, is that since Sammy is holding the card that is essential to having the nut hand, he knows no one else can have the nuts. Is Sammy capable of reraising in that spot with just ace high? You bet he is.

That's what makes my play so terrible. Knowing what I do of Sammy, I should have just called the $2,000 and been done with it. Instead, I opened the door for him to take the pot away from me. Now, if I'm going to make that silly raise, I simply have to be prepared to call the reraise.

As I showed my hand faceup, Sammy said, "Oh, my God, you lay that hand down? Wow, that's unbelievable, nobody else would have laid that down. Good laydown." Of course, I'm a poker player, so I realize that absolutely nothing he says in this situation has any merit. He later swore to me that he had the nut flush, but that doesn't change the fact that I severely misplayed the hand. The more I think about it, the more I think he had to have it. If he had the naked ace, my guess is that he may have bet the flop or the turn ... but I could be wrong, of course.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is this: When playing marginal situations in a tournament, you should sometimes sacrifice value in order to maximize your chances of simply winning the pot. If I had just called, the door would have been shut. If I had the best hand, I would win 100 percent of the time. By raising like I did, that wouldn't be the case at all.

Hmm ... but wait! What if I raised his bet, knowing he might reraise me with the naked ace, and then called his $10,000 raise to win a monster pot? Another column, another time ...

This article was published at an earlier date on PokerPages.com and is being rerun due to popular demand.