Good fold

While playing at Binion's, we had a wild man at the table. Among other things, he straddled at every opportunity, and nearly always raised on his option.

One time when he was UTG and had put in his customary blind raise, I looked down at A-K. I called the $4, planning to execute the ol' limp-reraise on him when he threw in another $20 or so, as he was likely to do. That plan got a wrinkle in it, though, when the uber-rock in the big blind beat the wild man to the punch and raised to $15. That guy, raising from out of position, is not to be underestimated and definitely gets my attention. Wild man called. I did, too, abandoning the reraise plan.

The flop looked great for me: A-10-4, with two spades (I had none). Mr. Rock bet small for the pot, just $17. Hmmm. Hard to know if that's a string-us-along bet with a monster, or weakness because he had something like K-K or Q-Q and does not like that ace having hit. Wild man calls. Well, I have one way of finding out which way Mr. Rock is swinging here: raise! I pushed out $55.

Rock doesn't hesitate to announce a reraise, and makes it $115 to go. Obviously I can't like that. But I think there's a good chance that he has A-K like I do. I have about $130 left now, so calling his additional $60 gets me pot committed. I'm pondering what to do, wondering whether my new thought of putting Rock on the same hand as I have is wishful thinking on my part, trying to justify staying in. But then Wild Man interrupts my train of thought with "all in." He has $400 or so.

This is definitely a guy who would push like that on a draw. On the other hand, he would also have called the pre-flop raise with crap like A-4 or even 10-4, let alone the more sensible possibilities of 10-10 or 4-4.

This just isn't fair! Top pair/top kicker is supposed to be a winner, and now I have two opponents who are not only not cowering in fear of my over-the-top move, as I had anticipated, but are daring me into the pot. This has rapidly turned from promising to intimidating.

Echoing in my head is the age-old bit of wisdom, "Don't go broke with just one pair." It takes me a minute or so, but I finally overcome my urge to shove it all in and cross my fingers. That is, I finally convince myself that one or the other of these two has me beat. Besides, there was a definite element of probing to find out where I stood with respect to Mr. Rock with my raise, and he has given me a pretty definitive answer. Furthermore, I have noticed that he has grabbed hold of the C-notes that are sitting under his chips, as if ready to pull the whole mess into the middle. Of course, this might be a ruse to get me to fold, but (1) he doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing, (2) he was definitely happy to get a reraise in when I opened that door for him, and (3) it wouldn't make sense for him to try to get me to fold if he is going to fold himself to Wild Man's all-in bet. So he's clearly ready to play for everything--a lot more ready than I am, I conclude.

I reluctantly folded. Damn.

Well, Mr. Rock did indeed call. He had 10-10 in the hole. Not too surprisingly, Wild Man had J-x in spades and was on the flush draw. He got there on the river, but it was too late, as Mr. Rock's fourth 10 hit on the turn. My top pair/top kicker would have been in third place when it was all said and done.

I'm aware that when I describe the details of the situation, it sounds like it should have been an easy insta-fold. But in the heat of the moment, it can be hard to evaluate everything objectively. I had planned to win this pot from the second I first saw the A-K. When I put in the $55 raise, I had visions of my two opponents folding, and the pot coming my way. Within the next, oh, 15 seconds or so, that vision was shattered. It was hard to let go of it.

In moments like that, I often find myself reverting to some simple, concise bit of wisdom that I've learned somewhere. They frequently just come from seemingly out of nowhere into my awareness and I hear them being spoken to me. It's my own voice sometimes, that of the person I learned the tidbit from on other occasions. This time it was Doyle Brunson from whom I first heard, "Don't go broke with just one pair." It's not always correct advice, and there have been plenty of times when I was indeed willing to go the distance with just one pair and was correct to do so. But tonight I was happy to have Doyle in my head nudging the decision the other way.


The hand was not a total loss, however. Before I folded, I flashed my cards to a couple of players at my end of the table--something I almost never do, and have even said in this blog is usually ill-advised. I suspected that this hand was going to get discussed after it was over, and there might be advertising value in the table knowing (A) that I was capable of slow-playing something big before the flop, (B) that my raise on the flop was serious, and (C) that I'm capable of making the big laydown. I wanted witnesses in case I decided to announce what I had folded and wasn't believed. It turned out just that way. The hand did get talked about. I did get asked what I had folded, and I did say it had been A-K, and somebody didn't believe it, until my witnesses verified it.

That advertising paid off later when I was able to muscle a couple of pots away from opponents with no hands, just a steely look in my eye and a solid reputation that I had earned the hard way. It was enough to about pay for the loss on the A-K hand.