Читать книгу Lessons From The Felt: Advanced Strategies And Tactics For No-limit Hold'em Tournaments - David Apostolico - Страница 13

Remember when I said that I was amazed that a home-game poker tournament could be played in utmost seriousness with nothing at stake. Having a clear-cut winner makes the game competitive. People can play for pride just like they would if they were playing a pickup basketball game. That same logic does not follow to a big freeroll (a tournament that offers prizes or cash but is free for players to enter), sad to say. The problem with a freeroll offered by an online site or local bar is that none of the players know each other. No one has any desire to play for pride anonymously. It just doesn’t work.

So why play freerolls? If you are just starting out, the online freerolls are a great way to get used to the structure and feel of a tournament. As far as strategy, you are going to have a hard time learning anything because these tournaments will be played fast and loose with a devil-may-care attitude. The exception is if a decent prize is offered. There are a number of bar/restaurants near me that offer weekly free tournaments, but they offer first-place prizes up to $200. This changes the game quite a bit. I have done some investigative research and have found the quality of play at these tournaments to vary greatly. While a majority of players are fairly poor, I did find that just about everyone was playing to win.

This situation is quite different from an online freeroll tournament where it does not appear that anyone is playing to win. Many online sites will offer small-fee buy-ins for as little as $2 or $3. As miniscule as that number may sound, it changes the philosophy dramatically. The great majority of players takes the game seriously or else they wouldn’t be playing. Requiring them to pay something, no matter how small, out of their own pocket makes a world of difference. I played a few of these tournaments when I was testing software on the various sites, and they were quite entertaining and competitive. If you want to test the waters online, try a few.

Barroom Poker

The exploding popularity of no-limit Hold’em tournaments continues to amaze me. Within a five-minute drive from my house (located outside of Philadelphia), at least a dozen restaurants/bars hold weekly tournaments. These tournaments are freerolls offering a variety of prizes. Twenty years ago, this would have been nirvana for me. Now the idea of playing in a smoky bar with a bunch of drunks for the chance to win a gift certificate or T-shirt has zero appeal to me.

One of my neighbors who is just starting out in poker has been playing some of these tournaments on a regular basis, so I decided to meet up with him one night to see first hand just how bad or worthwhile these tournaments were. We went to a restaurant about a mile from our neighborhood that has a weekly Wednesday-night tournament. Registration is at 7 P.M. and fills up quickly. So we met there at 6:30 to make sure we got in. Sure enough by 6:45 a line had already formed. The tournament was limited to seventy players, and by 7:15 there was already an alternate list. I was impressed with the enthusiasm. Since the tournament would not start until 8:00, we got a bite to eat. Obviously, the reason places like this hold these tournaments is to bring in eating and paying customers, for which I was happy to oblige.

I was also surprised to find out that there would be a first-place cash prize of $200. Second place would get a T-shirt, and that would be the extent of the prizes. Each player would start with $2,000 in chips with blinds at $25-$50 and levels at 30 minutes each. This seemed like a fairly decent structure for a freeroll. There were seven tables with poker tops on them, and each one had composite chips and new cards. We had two decks per table and you dealt your own. So far, I was impressed. From a purely economical point of view, it would still not make any sense for me to play. Even if I was to win, $200 for an entire night of poker was not a good use of my time. Plus, no matter how bad the play was, there are no guarantees in poker. Even a blind squirrel will occasionally find the nuts. However, I was here to have a good time and to see how good or bad the play would be. I was half expecting the worst and half hoping for some good play.

I found my table and sat down a few minutes before 8:00. One lady had already been there for quite some time stacking, counting, and re-stacking her chips. Maybe she was a ringer. Soon, everyone else sat down, and right at eight o’clock sharp, the cards were in the air. The first hand just about everyone limped in loose and passive. I had Q-J suited in late position and decided to limp in as well until I could get a real feel for the game. The flop came 5♦-7♦-9♦. One player bet out $100 and there were two callers. I folded. The turn brought a blank, and again the same player bet out (this time $200), and there were two more callers. The river brought the 10 of diamonds and the same original player bet out. This time he bet $500. One player folded and the lady who first sat down called. The first player proudly turned over his J-8 (neither was a diamond) for a straight and began to scoop the pot. The lady turned over the 6-8 for a straight flush. She had flopped the stone-cold nuts. However, it appeared that she had no idea whether she had won or lost the hand. (So much for her being a ringer.) A couple of players quickly pointed out that she had a flush. I pointed out that she actually had a straight flush. Everyone looked at me as if I had two heads and then looked back at the board. After what seemed like a few minutes, this obnoxious guy at the table pointed out (in a manner that was meant to convey that he would be the final voice on all matters at this table) that the lady did indeed have a straight flush. I could tell that this was going to be a long night.

Since it appeared that there were quite a few regulars at the table, I decided to keep a low profile and not intercede unless absolutely necessary. It soon became apparent that I had entered some sort of alternative poker universe. Players were calling off their chips with low pair or ace high. And this was on the river! Everyone seemed to be having an extremely difficult time reading the board. After a showdown, more often than not, I had to explain who won the hand and why. For instance, one player could not understand why his pocket sixes were no good with a final board of Q-Q-8-10-10. He was convinced his hand was better than his opponent’s A-4. You see, since there were two pair on the board, he only had a six kicker to his opponent’s ace.

My plan for keeping a low profile was becoming more and more difficult. I had to choose what to correct. I chose to ignore string bets and raises below the minimum. However, I had to introduce the concept of a side pot. Apparently, they had been playing that a short stacked player who was all-in was eligible for the entire pot. On the other hand, I chose to ignore the obnoxious player’s habit of shorting the pot. If it was $200 to him, he would somehow manage to put in only $100. I could not ignore, however, his attempt to cheat me.

For the most part, I played tight because I was more interested in observing. In addition, whenever I had a hand, I was sure to get plenty of action. Well, after a few hours of play, the lady without a clue and Mr. Obnoxious were the clear chip leaders at the table. Mr. Obnoxious was winning due to his cheating ways, and the lady without a clue was calling down every other hand and winning most of them. It was impossible to put her on a hand since she herself had no idea what she had. The only time she knew what she had was when she had a set of tens against my straight. Of course, she thought her set was good—which set off a few minutes of discussion before Mr. Obnoxious in his infinite wisdom “declared” me the winner.

Then the following hand came up. I was in the big blind and Mr. Obnoxious was in the small blind. The lady without a clue and Mr. Obnoxious called, I checked my blind, and we saw a flop three handed. I had 5-6, and the flop came 4-8-J rainbow, giving me a gutshot straight draw. Mr. Obnoxious checked, I checked, and the lady without a clue checked. Then Mr. Obnoxious bet. Huh? That’s right. He bet once he knew that we were both going to check. Of course, I objected, but he insisted that he had never checked. So I folded, the lady without a clue called, and wouldn’t you know it, the 7 rolled off the turn that would’ve completed my gutshot. Mr. Obnoxious continued to bet heavily, and the lady without a clue continued to call. I would’ve won a huge pot. Even though I was there to observe, my competitive juices took over at that point. It was on. I took off my journalist hat and put on my poker hat.

Either Mr. Obnoxious was gone or I was gone. Since I had position on him, I waited for my next playable hand. A short while later, he open raised for about five times the big blind. I found A-K and raised enough, I hoped, to isolate him and keep him in the pot. Well, the player behind me re-raised all-in. Mr. Obnoxious called and shorted the pot. I called as well, but this time I pointed out Mr. Obnoxious’s shortcomings. He got real snotty, but fortunately the other player saw it as well. I stayed calm, and just said, “Let’s count the pot and see.” Apparently, this was something that had never occurred to Mr. Obnoxious because he quickly became twitchy and decided on his own that he had put in the wrong color chip by mistake.

Just as I hoped, Mr. Obnoxious turned over K-8 off-suit, although the other player had pocket rockets (poker slang for two aces). I was drawing extremely thin and never improved. I was happy to give my chips to the other player, though. And as a special parting gift, I informed the table that Mr. Obnoxious had been shorting the pot all night.

Lessons Learned

It’s never a good idea to take anything personally at the poker table. Stay emotionally detached. This was a freeroll, and I was there for fun and observation. But still, I had not decided to start playing serious poker until I was already steamed. No matter what the setting, if you are going to play, you should play to win. Bad habits can form from the most innocent of sources. You play for fun one day, and then the next time you are playing seriously, you find yourself playing way too many fun hands.

The biggest lesson I learned from this excursion is that it is not my job to police the table. While I tried to show a lot of restraint here, I could not help myself from correcting a lot of mistakes even when I was not involved in the action. Granted, the players’ understanding in this instance was particularly horrendous. However, I realized that my personality type is to want to arbitrate and get involved over disputes when I feel strongly that one party is being wronged. I never really thought that there was anything wrong with doing that.

The problem is that playing referee can be a big distraction. My job at the poker table is to be as focused as possible. I want to observe everyone as much as I possibly can. If I am part of the action, I cannot be focusing. Disputes do come up at the poker table quite frequently. Many players wear their emotions on their sleeves and tempers can sometimes flare. If I get involved, I cannot be observing these players at this critical time. More important, though, is that I run a huge risk of upsetting my emotional even keel.

It’s hard enough to maintain composure and discipline over a long period when the cards can wreak havoc on your game. Why make things harder by raising your blood pressure needlessly? Even if I am trying to maintain order by interceding, someone is bound to get upset and direct his anger toward me. I don’t need that extra stress. If people want to fight, let them. It’s up to the dealer and the floor manager to resolve the problem. Unless I am directly involved, I don’t get involved. I save my energy and maintain my focus on the players. If I am involved, I stay calm and make my case to the dealer. If need be, I call the floor manager or tournament director over. I avoid engaging my opponent as much as possible.

Players will often try to get others involved. At a recent tournament at the Trump Classic, two players saw the hand all the way to the river. Player One checked and then believing that Player Two checked as well, Player One turned over his hand. Player Two immediately said that he still hadn’t acted. Player One then turned his cards back over and got really upset accusing Player Two of angle shooting in order to see his cards. Player One showed a hand of K-J with a board of 9-J-2-J-6. Player Two then made a huge bet. Player One called without hesitation. Player Two turned over J-10, and Player One won a big pot. Player One continued to berate Player Two and asked everyone at the table to back him up. I didn’t say a word, even though I knew that Player Two had never checked. Player One even went as far as to hit the player next to him on the arm and said “You saw it, right?” If this happens to you, the best thing is just to say that you weren’t paying attention.

College Night

Not to be deterred, I thought I would venture out and check out another bar/restaurant poker night. This one attracted a younger crowd of mostly college-age people. The event offered one first-place prize of a $100 gift certificate to the hosting restaurant. We started with about fifty people, and I could tell immediately that the level of play was much better. At least most players had a decent understanding of the fundamentals of the game. The biggest mistakes were still made by players betting or raising less than the minimum. I largely ignored these mistakes. The only time I did intervene was when one player did not understand how he could lose a pot holding pocket fours when the board showed 10-10-8-8-2. His opponent had an ace. I’m still not sure that this guy understood that he had two pair (tens and eights) with a four kicker. But there were enough people at the table who did understand, so our player with pocket fours reluctantly gave up the pot.

I spent most of the night keeping quiet and studying the other players. Most of the college-age crowd could easily be typecast into typical cliques—the jock, the bookworm, the partier, and so on. At that age, I think many people not only live up to their reputations but relish them. What was interesting, though, is that I found no correlation between stereotype and playing style. Every player seemed to have his own unique style. Some of the jocks liked to bluff and others were calling stations. The same situation was true with the other stereotypes.

While I pride myself on being able to read people, this got me to thinking whether I am quick to make judgments of my opponents even if they don’t fit into a neat stereotype. It’s almost impossible not to come to some sort of judgment based on how someone is dressed or how he talks and walks. If nothing else, this night served as a reminder to me not to judge a player by his appearance. I want to make sure I am making sound judgments based on playing habits and my thorough read of an opponent’s unique personality.

How did the night end up? I went out at the final table when I pushed all-in with pocket Jacks. I was called by A-10 and an ace came on the flop.