Rounders, Inc.

[This post is part of my series on Mike McDermott quotes from the movie Rounders]

“The key to the game is playing the man, not the cards. A brilliant player can get a strong hand cracked, go on tilt, and lose his mind along with every single chip in front of him.”

This is so true, but it only applies to No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em. Limit games are more mechanical. Even spread limit games are tough to play the player because of the betting limits.

I generally lose if I get tilty. I often see other players that get emotional at the table and proceed to donk off all their chips.

This tilt quote, for me, is a universal law. And it works both ways. Put the other players on tilt, but never go on tilt yourself. When I get tilty, I rack up and leave. With chips.

A good friend of mine emailed me information on a hand he was in and asked how I would have played it.

He is a very solid player and could easily promote himself to the Rounder category of card player. (He does not need the money and plays mostly for fun)

Here is what he wrote:

I have my $300 buy-in in front of me. The table is wild with bluffs and big bets.

The guy to my right bets $10 preflop and I CORRECTLY put him on A-K.

I have 7-4 suited and there are 5 players to the flop.

The flop is K-7-4 rainbow.

The A-K bets $20 into a $50 pot.

I’m next to act and raise to $80 to get rid of everybody else.

Everyone folds except the original bettor. He re-raises me $100.

I do not put him on K-K for top set. He would have bet harder preflop with that hand. I go back to my original read of A-K.

I push all in.

He calls and shows A-K and sighs when he sees my two pair.

The turn is a deuce.

He hits an Ace on the river.

I read everything right, got all my money in being a 4-to-1 favorite and lost.

How would you have played it?

In short, you got unlucky.

That said, here are my thoughts:

The wild nature of the table was not a factor here. You were dealing with a below average player, at best, that was obsessed with A-K.

Why do I say that? With your strong table image and you playing back at me on the flop, I would have given you credit for at least two pair or a set.

You are not the K-7 or K-4 kind of guy. So, I would have played it safe and put you on a set of 4s or set of 7s. My A-K would have been in the muck.

I would have played it the same. You got unlucky.

But, I probably would not have played 7-4 suited in early position (or any position) with a wild table like that.

If I was feeling frisky AND was playing with their money and not my original buy-in, I may have played the hand.

The problem with having suited connectors with one or two in the gut is they are not profitable hands over the long run. With two in the gut, you can hit only one nut straight.

Compare that to a J-10 where you can hit five straights and four of them are the nuts.

When I am at a table with bad players, the range of hands I normally play gets reduced by 67%.

If the table of bad players is a wild one, I reduce it again by 67%.

This translates into playing 8-8 or better and J-10 suited or better from late position.

I cannot recall the last time my bottom two pair held up when someone flopped top pair. Bottom two is a dangerous hand. If the board pairs or they hit their other hole card, it all over baby.

Until recently, I took refuge with the fact that I put the money in good and could only be beat with pure luck.

How many times does one have to get unlucky with less than premium hands against bad players?

That experience forced me to tighten up my game.

And even then, luck is a factor.

Just like when I was at a wild table of bad players and got it in good on the flop with A-A and got beat by a player under the gun that called $100 preflop in a $1-$2 game with J-8 offsuit to protect their $10 straddle.

Here is my short list of spotting a donkey at the table:

Plays more than 8 hands an hour;

Sees every flop at any cost;

Can’t laydown big pairs like A-A, K-K, Q-Q, or J-J when the correct move is fold;

Always calls and never raises;

Doubles or triples up (or better) but always leaves the poker room scratching their broke ass;

Are you a solid player or a donkey?

What a brutal session!

My first hand was A-A. It held up for a $100 profit.

Then, it was all downhill from there.

Missed flops and forced blinds took me down to even.

Then up another hundo.

Back down to even.

Up a couple hundo.

Then down to the felt.

It was a terrible session for me. A combination of bad players and my fatigue.

There was, however, some symmetry to the session.

My last hand was A-A.

I could see an aggressive player stacking chips behind me for a pre-flop raise. So, I call a $10 straddle.

With nearly $100 in the pot, this player bets the pot.

The straddler calls.

I smooth call.

That was mistake #1. I should have popped it right there, knowing all the chips will be going in anyways.

Terrible flop: J-10-6 rainbow.

The straddler puts me all-in.

I am way ahead with A-A over J-8 off.

Bam! The turn is an 8 and the river is a 5.

Hee haw to the pinche burro grandes.

All night long, I got unlucky.

I take responsibility, though. I should have left with a small profit when I started feeling tired.

And, when the game changed to a bunch of drunk donks thinking they were on ESPN, I should have left.

If donkey brutality was a crime, the jail here would be full.

I had an overall good day of poker yesterday in both tournament and cash play.

My bankroll was up overall. But, I came up short in the tournament.

I had not lost a hand until the final table.

With the overwhelming chip lead but still out of the money, I am in the big blind with 9-7 off.

With two limpers, we see a flop of Q-9-7 rainbow.

The small blind checks.

I overbet the pot to give any caller only 1.5-to-1 pot odds.

The third player in the hand pushes all-in. It was about 30% of my stack to call.

Like a donkey, I call. The small blind folded.

He shows K-Q and gives himself a speech about knowing better.

The turn is a blank.

I got unlucky when a King came on the river.

I came up short.

After going card dead, I blinded my way to last place.

Another tournament where I should have finished first had it not been for good old fashioned luck by a less experienced player.

I had it in good. Again.

At least it was not a runner-runner longshot …

Next time, I hope I do not come up short.

I am all for table talk. But it has to be relevant and appropriate.

The line gets crossed when one player criticizes another’s play or style.

I normally do not get involved with the talk unless someone needs help defending themselves.

In a tournament last week, I am in seat 4 and sitting directly across from seat 1 due to us being eleven handed.

A very young gun was in seat 5. He was nervous as hell. Under the table, both legs were shaking anytime he was in a hand.

Seat 1 was a 40-something man with sunglasses. He was a classic calling station that thought A-K was the nuts no matter what was on the board.

Me and seat 1 were in a hand before things got reckless.

I had Q-Q and raised like I had aces.

He calls.

The flop comes K-9-3 rainbow.

He checks.

I bet half the pot.

He min raises me.

“You have Ace King,” I say to him.

He stares me down and says, “It is a good time to have Ace King, isn’t it?”

I thought he was cocky and arrogant. I would have loved to see a Queen on the flop and bust his sorry ass, but the right play was fold.

A couple hands later, the young gun raises from the big blind. I was not in the hand, but it felt like he was trying to weed out the limpers.

Afterall, 8 players limped in.

Having that many players in the hand by limping is not poker to me. It is bingo.

The flop was A-4-2 rainbow.

The kid checks.

Mr. Player from seat 1 bets hard.

The kid comes over the top.

I put him on a straight.

Mr. Player played back at the kid all the way to the river.

The kid shows 5-3 for a straight.

Mr. Player shows A-K for top pair.

Then, he lost it.

“You are reckless!” the guy in seat 1 says.

“Reckless?” the kid responds.

Seat 1 goes on this speech about raising with 5-3 and so on.

This kid clammed up. Nobody had ever  yelled at him. I really thought he was going to cry.

Well, we were not going to have any of that. There is no crying in poker.

Not at the table anyway. What happens in your car on the way home from a bad session, stays in your car.

I digress.

Compelled to help defend the kid, I explain that he was making a play at the pot to get the weak players out.

Sure, the kid got lucky by flopping a straight. But, a real player would have folded A-K with a straight out there.

Then, I criticize seat 1 for over-playing A-K.

This put him on tilt. He donked off all his chips by the end of the next round.

The hand he went out on? Ace-King.

What would you do?

I am in a $500 max buy-in no limit game a while back.

I sit down in the under the gun position. Sitting down with me is a former golf pro. He is in the big blind.

With my pocket 10s, I make it $50 to go.

The only caller is Mr. Fairway.

The flop comes 10-6-2. All clubs.

Top set for me.

Mr. Fairway moves all-in.

What do you do?

I don’t put him on any flush. Why bet me off the hand with the nuts?

At best, he has a four card flush.

I call.

He shows 8h-4d.

All air.

The turn is 5d.

He went from double gut shot to just a gut shot.

All I have to dodge is a 7 on the river.

Bam! The 7 of hearts comes on fifth street.

Even now, think about the hand. Had I folded top set, I know he would have shown the bluff. I would always wonder.

In the end, I got shanked on that hand. But, still I wonder.

Lousy cards.

Lousy players.

Lousy dealers.

I hear players say these phrases all the time at the table. Here is my tale from yesterday’s session:

Lousy cards

I could not hit a flop with a shotgun. Missed every draw when I had a playable hand. And playable hands were quite scarce to begin with. It was a sign of things to come. A bad sign.

Lousy players

The players were unusually bad yesterday. After watching the player to my immediate left play every single pot to the river at any cost for three hours, I decide to play super aggressive when I had a hand.

I get 6-7 clubs and raise to $50. This is high for a $1-2 game. He calls.

I flop the nut straight: 9-8-5 rainbow. I bet $100. He calls.

I tell the player I flopped the nuts. “I can’t fold this hand,” he says.

The turn is an 8. I don’t put him on a full house, but I do think he has an 8.

“I still have the nuts,” I tell him as I pump out another $100.

“I am sure you do but I have to call,” he says.

“No shame in folding, Sir. I don’t want you to draw out on me with a miracle 1000-to-1 longshot.”

He still calls.

The river is yet another 8.

I check.

He bets.

I turn my cards over and put a chip on them. “See? I told you I flopped the nuts. You got lucky with quads, huh?

He is in seat 10 and mucks his hand.

“That is a dead hand,” I say.

Well, there is a loophole in the gaming laws. A mucked hand is not a mucked hand. If the mucked hand is retrievable by the dealer and it turns out to be the winning hand, the player that mucked wins.

The hand was retrievable. My opponent had A-8 offsuit.

Lousy dealers

I am last to act with Q-Q. I raise and get two callers.

I am in seat 9 and the dealer is having a conversation with seat 10, who is also in the hand.

The flop comes Q-Q-9.

Seat 10 bets $100. The next player min raises.

I call.

The turn is a 9.

Seat 10 bets $100. The next player min raises again.

I call.

The river is an Ace.

Seat 10 bets $100. The next player min raises again.

I announce all-in.

My cards are behind the betting line with a chip on them.

I first grab my chip stacks, then I pick up the chip on the cards and push the bet over the betting line.

“What are you doing, Sir?” the dealer asks.

“I said all-in!”

“But you don’t have any cards!” he says.

I look down. No cards.

“Where the fuck are my cards?”

“I scooped them into the muck when you took the chip off.”

“I said all-in! I picked that chip up as I was pushing my stacks over the line. The chips were over the line and the cards were behind the line.”

“Sorry. They are mucked.”

No apology. No remorse. No recourse. No nothing.

Seat 10 shows A-K.

The player in the middle shows quad 9s.

We would have hit the bad beat jackpot for $350,000.

Instead, I went home broke.

And feeling lousy.

Whoever said that poker is the only sport without a handicap was wrong.

Dead wrong.

I crushed a cash game yesterday. With all the easy money gone, I decided to play a small tournament.

My rationale? I was freerolling from the cash game. In hindsight, I pissed away 80 bucks.

I am at a table with several strong players, several weak players, and one big donkey.

What do I look for when hunting donkeys? Ones that play every pot at any cost and win with sheer luck.

These players never raise. They have three tools: call, call, and call.

I was playing perfectly. Right hands, right position, right reads.

Flash forward two hours into the tournament.

I am sitting on an above average chip stack. Exactly where I want to be.

The players at my end of the table are talking about The Donkey and how he has played every hand and wins on the river.

I make a comment about having to go all-in against him to push him off a marginal hand. I think to myself that this play may not be enough.

A few minutes later, I get the chance to put this into action.

I get K-Q in late position and raise.

Normally, I would limp in, but I wanted to build a pot then take it down on the flop if I hit a pair or better.

So, I raise 10X the big blind.

The Donkey is in early position and he is my only customer.

Now, keep in mind that I have been building a table image so far by showing every uncalled winning hand. I have shown A-A, K-K, a set of 10s, and 8-8. I have also  been calling out other player’s hands.

In fact, have not lost a hand yet.

All for naught.

The flop comes K-10-7 rainbow.

My customer checks.

I feel he is weak. If I go slow, he could draw out on me.

I decide to play it fast and hope he folds.

“I am all-in,” I declare.

He pauses.

This call is for half his stack.

If he folds, it will be his first fold of the day.

He counts out the chips.

“You are way behind here. You are a 4-to-1 dog right now and are getting only 1 1/2-to-1 to call,” I tell him.

“I got a hand,” he says.

“You do. You have the losing hand.”

“How the fuck do you know what I got?” he asks.

“The problem here is you don’t know what I got. At best, you have bottom pair. You need to get real lucky to win this hand.”

He throws the chips in.

I show top pair.

He gets pissed and slams his cards down.

Sure enough, he has 9-7 off.

The turn is a 4.

One card away from either a double up or a bust out.

The river? A fucking 9.

The worst feeling in the world is playing it right, putting it in good, and getting beat by pure luck.

Did he get lucky or did I get unlucky?

I am not sure, but I know this: bad players seem to have an abundance of good luck.

In retrospect, I should have just checked it down. If he bets, that would tell me he hit two pair or better.

How someone can call off half their stack on bottom pair is beyond my ability to rationalize.

But then again, these kinds of players play poker like the slot machines: put the money in, pull the lever, and hope for the best.

Well, that sucked.

I played a tournament yesterday.

My table had a couple of reasonably strong players and 7 or so weak amateurs.

By the first break, I like to be sitting on the chip average or so.

I did not have a playable hand for the first 90 minutes.

About two minutes before the break, I decide to make a move.

A player in early position min-raises to $800.

Everyone folds.

I am on the button with 9-8 hearts and call.

The flop comes 9-8-6 rainbow.

As always, I studied my opponent as the flop came out.

He nervously checked.

I then look at the flop and see I have top two.

I bet half the pot: $1000.

My opponent nervously calls.

I put him on A-K or A-Q.

Keep in mind, that there are two straights on board, a possible set, and possible two pair with suited connectors.

I study my opponent as the turn card comes out.

He nervously checks again.

It is an Ace. I bet half the pot again.

My opponent thinks about it a while and decides to put me all-in.

I insta-call: My chips were in the middle before his hit the felt.

He sees top two and shakes his head.

Of course, he has A-K and is kicking himself for overplaying the hand.

Going to the river, he needs any Ace, King, or 6 to beat me. At best, he has 8 outs.

Can he pull off the runner-runner miracle?

Can he go from a 5-to-1 dog to a winner and knock me out?

The way I have been running, he was a shoo-in to win.

The river card was a 6.

He did it! Pulled off a runner-runner miracle.

Like I calmly told the table before I left, I can’t remember the last time I put it in bad. I also can’t remember the last time I put it in good and did not get hit with a 989-to-1 runner runner longshot.

The worst feeling in poker is getting beat by a bad player that gets rewarded for bad play by catching the miracle cards.

I have never run this bad before … I don’t know what is going on.

I do know two things: One, I played it right. Two, getting hit with runner-runner again sucked.