A Completely Misplayed Live NL HE Hand

[shipitfish]

As I mentioned in an earlier article, I went Wednesday night looking for a game at the O Club and found the place gone. I've sent out some emails looking for information, but some Internet searches indicated that there have probably been another round of busts.

I went to the E. Club, which isn't that far away (at least for a non-New-Yorker; most New Yorkers would probably be appalled at what I consider close, but the are both below of 14th street, anyway), instead. I'll post a review soon, but the E Club is quite small. I arrived to find an 8-handed NL HE tournament in progress and no cash game.

I convinced a cocky young player to begin playing heads up to build the game. If I didn't know better, I would have said he played on Ultimate Bet, because his "tight weak, overplay one pair" style was classic of what's found there. I won $50 from him quickly by bluffing and value betting middle pair correctly, and a third player, who had returned from a "tilt walk" after busting from the tournament, joined us to make a three handed game.

This third player was a fellow I knew well. At the old R Club (before it closed and reopened elsewhere), I had played with him a few times. He's a kind and friendly hasidic Jewish fellow. He understands the very basics of the game reasonably well, but like Big John at River Street, he calls down with draws and no odds too often, and cannot give up top pair easily. The advantage, however, is that reading him is very straightforward. If only I had remembered this and paid attention, I'd be $500 richer.

The game went well three-handed and as more players busted and one cash game player showed up, our game doubled in size. Because of my preference for short-handed games online, I have gotten very comfortable with such games. And, this one moved from that tight-weak style to very loose quite quickly. A few real gamblers joined the game and there were some chips moving from some crazy preflop all-ins (I'll have more about this in a future post).

But, having only brought $500 with me (the maximum buy-in in this $1/$2 NL game), my night would end early. My hand of doom had me beating myself up for 24 hours; there was no reason I needed to lose a dime on the hand, and on nearly ever street, I had an opportunity to make a better play that would have saved me money.

---

Play-by-play of the Hand of Doom

My first mistake was due to the fact that I was playing much looser than I needed to in this game. Many players were taking each flop, even for small raises, and there was usually a good amount of action on the flop. I had no need really to set a big trap with an oddball hand. I could have waited for a spot where I would have easy decisions where the correct EV play would have been obvious. Instead, I was doing what I do when I play against tighter opponents; playing strange hands and focusing on good reads. I didn't need to challenge myself in this way here, and it just got me in to trouble.

From middle position, I limped with T7o what was shaping up to be a family pot. The hasidic fellow limped behind me, and the cocky kid made it $7 to go. Everyone called all the way around, and I saw a flop with a raised family pot of $42.

I thought I was in a great situation when I saw 7 7 6 flop. As I often do in these situations, I bet out $35, figuring the cocky kid was a favorite to have an overpair and would overplay it and maybe get a lot of money in the pot on the flop.

The hasidic fellow called behind me, the cocky kid was disgusted and folded (AK, AQ, something like that) and before I knew it we were seeing the turn heads-up. I wasn't all that worried. I thought a bit that maybe he had a draw, since he called quickly. When I looked over, I however really read him for strong. The only draws were 89, 45, and 58. I'd been watching him play draws for an hour, and he had this sort of "resigned" look about him when he was drawing -- waiting for the board to grant him some luck. Here, he was thoughtful and curious about what I had. He was never interested in other players when he was drawing, just the board.

I decided he had a made hand. 88 was one possibility, as I believed he might err and fail to raise in that situation on the flop. But, more likely, he held the case 7. I began to focus on how much he would overvalue a 7 here (meanwhile, I was overvaluing mine like a fool). I considered the 7s he'd have, and began to focus too heavily on 78. I think at as the turn of J, I almost certainly put him on this hand.

I decided here to check-raise. He rarely bet, but he would bet his 7 here, I figured. He did bet out $25, and I check-raised for $75 more. He began to ponder my bet, and asked the dealer twice for a total, and "reluctantly" called. He was confident, and I was totally focused on how he would surely be that confident with 78 here too. The pot swelled to $312 as he fumbled his chips into the pot and the 5 fell.

89 had gotten there, as had 57, but I just was not worried somehow. I decided to lead for $125, hoping to get called by that 78. He leaned back, relaxed, looked thoughtful, as if he'd picked up Caro's Book of Tells and slapped me in the face with it, and meekly declared "all-in".

I didn't stop to reconsider my read. I didn't think. I heard the word "call" come out of my mouth like it was some donkey at the other side of the table saying it. "Full house", he announced. I heard myself say, "Well, I called you, let me see it." And, there it was: 66. (But, to remind myself how weak I was, I could have also reasonably expected to see A7, K7s, Q7s, 57, 66, J7s, or 67, all of which would have beat me.)

The only good part of the story was that if someone from that table had to take my stack, I am glad it was him. He was a nice fellow, and probably the worst player at the table (except for me, that evening, of course :). He looked at me with a lot of empathy and a little confusion and said, "So, you had the 7?" I nodded at him and smiled. He didn't play it wrong; I did. Indeed, he gave me literally every "weak means strong" tell in the (actual) book, and I made a series of classic mistakes for my whole stack.

Of all the streets, I played only the flop right. On the other streets, my mistakes were as follows:

• I should have never limped with that trash in a game that is so loose and easy to read anyway. Save playing trash for tougher games where surprising other players gives a substantial edge.
• I should have just called the $25 on the turn. He's clearly not folding his hand, and I am almost positive he's not drawing. If I have him, he has only three outs, and there is too good of a chance he's beating me. I should take the good odds to draw for pairing the kicker.
• I could have bet out less or even check-folded the river. He is clearly really strong, and I'm only beating some hand he overplayed; I can give him A7 and fold. Even check-calling is better; he won't bet enough to blow me out of the pot and is unlikely to bluff.

---

What did I (Re)-Learn?

There are some lessons to be learned from my horrible mistake. The most frustrating thing is that I already knew some of these rules and ignored them temporarily:

• When you get a "little too much" action with flopped open trips from a passive player, you are almost always beat. Give it up quickly and easily, only thing hard about whether it is good if you have the nut kicker. (I made this "golden rule" up a long time ago, and used to follow it well, but not so well this week.)
• Classic loose-passive players basically don't bluff, and they often don't value-bet enough. If there is only two choices, namely "they are either crushing you or drawing thin to beat you", you can check streets out of position and not fear being blown out of the pot when you are winning. (Indeed, a check-and-call strategy in this spot, I probably would have paid merely the $25 on the turn and another $75 at most on the river, instead of my whole $500 stack. Plus, I might have been more inclinded to read his strength better if I wasn't focused on value-betting myself.)
• Tells from weak players aren't nuanced. I convinced myself that the strength was a hand similar but just weaker than mine, rather than a monster. He was shedding more tells on this hand than he had all night. He had a monster, and it's obvious when I review it.
• Even weak players know when they are a little bit vulnerable. When weak, loose-passive players make a pot-sized raise on the river, it's not a bluff. You have to be really strong.