I’ve been reading a new book on no-limit and practicing in pot limit games, the latter both in a small, fun game on Friday evenings with co-workers and online at the micro-limit level, in part because I’d been taking a break from my “normal” cash game play after hitting a particularly bad stretch and deciding I needed a break.
But I found myself with an unexpected chunk of free time Saturday night, and with needing to get up early Sunday and not a lot of desire to hit any of the big parties, I started to get a bit of a jones for a game. So I swung by Artichole Joes.
I was actually thinking of trying the $1-$2-$2 no-limit game they began running several months back. But one look told me that I might be in very much over my head. First, even though this is a $100-min and (I think) $200-max (or $300-max) buy-in game, I saw several large stacks of red ($5) chips. And watching just one hand, I saw 3 raises pre-flop, the third to $120, much larger than I wanted to play.
So I signed up for my usual $6/$12 limit game. And shortly thereafter joined a new game.
I was feeling lucky about that because with my deteriorating eyes (to the point where I have scheduled cataract surgery for late August), I needed to be that close to see the flop cards, and believe it or not, even then is was sometimes challenging. Lucky, because I was able to get seat 5, the closest to the flop cards.
Anyway, I was having an up-and-down time, more up than down, and was relaxed and enjoying myself. A couple of very tilty calling stations had come and gone on my right (just where I like them–I’d made a good chunk of my profit off of them). But this is a story of making a specific plan in a specific hand because of the characteristics of a specific player.
So in this hand, I’m dealt J9o in the small blind. After several limpers, it’s a pretty easy complete decision. The flop comes Q-9-7 rainbow.
I check, and it’s checked around to seat 1, who bets.
Seat 1 has been in the game for awhile. I’ve noticed that he:
- Sees a lot of flops.
- Tends to be a bit over-aggressive, betting out a lot when he hits almost any piece of the flop.
- Has taken a few bad beats, or at least has gotten drawn out on, which seems to have increased his over-aggressiveness.
Meanwhile, I’ve been plaything pretty tightly, throwing away a lot preflop, folding to flop bets when I do limp in.
After he bets, everyone folds around to me. I call. Everyone else folds.
The turn comes a complete blank. I begin to formulate a plan. I check. He bets again. I call again.
At this point, I’m pretty sure he’s on top pair. I doubt it’s a very good top pair. But I decide that I’m going to bet out no matter what the river card is.
Serendipitously lucky, the river card is exactly what I need it to be to reinforce my plan: an ace.
My chips hit the middle of the felt almost before the card falls. And he looks back at his cards. And frowns. And looks at his cards again. And frowns again. And I know–I know!–I have him. In that I mean that he does not want to get beaten on the river again. He knows that I don’t chase. He knows that I’ve shown down powerful hands. And he knows he doens’t want to get beaten on the river yet again.
And although I’m sure that if he were to call, he’d show down the better hand, he mucks.
I’d made a couple of good reads already that night, including throwing away aces with a good kicker in early position (and A-10o hand) after I’d planned to check-raise, but before it got back to me the ace-rag-rag flop had gotten bet, raised, and re-raised (and I was right; the re-raiser had a weak ace but had flopped aces up), but in my mind, this was the best read of the night. I played the player more than I played the cards. It’s not that often you do that in the limit game, especially California-style no-fold-’em hold ‘em, but I was feeling a little giddy that the circumstances allowed me to make a plan and execute it so well.