The Fear Factor

A casino is kind of intimidating. Even though I have played about three dozen times at eight different card rooms, I still feel nervous walking into a casino. I'm doing something (Gambling! Temptation leading to ruination and hell-fire!) that my inner-prude does not approve of. Excitement mixed with guilt - much like I felt in my youth when I screwed up the courage to buy a girlie magazine. Maybe this is part of the reason I enjoy going to card rooms, to have that long forgotten feeling return.

There are positive and negative consequence to being fearful. Fear makes you cautious, less likely to make a bad call because you are concentrating on the possible negative outcome rather than hoping for the positive outcome. The fearful player is on high alert - all your primal survival instincts are activated and you are more likely to pick up on danger signs a less attentive player would miss.

Unfortunately the negative aspects of fear out-weigh the benefits. Being in a fearful state means that instinct rather than logic is guiding your actions.

Let me give you an example of how I let my fear lead me to make a very bad and costly decision: I had been playing at a somewhat tight table of $1/$2 NLHE for an hour when a maniac sat down and started betting and raising everything. He stole a few pots before the table caught on that he was going to play pretty much every hand like a game of chicken, so everyone loosened up in the hopes of hitting a decent hand and getting paid off. Rather than back off, the maniac just stepped on the gas even harder betting 20 times the big blind pre-flop almost every hand. The table loosened up even more and suddenly everything was completely insane. The maniac had lost the $300 he had brought to the table, bought another $300 and lost that in about fifteen minutes, and with a smile like this was the most fun he ever had he bought another $300 in chips. I was way to scared to play! I knew any hand I played I had to be prepared to take to a showdown, I had to be prepared to pay a minimum of $40 just to see a flop. I was in middle position when I was dealt AK of hearts. The maniac was down to $65 again, and he pushed it all-in from early position. Another very loose player (let's call him Scott, because that was his name.) called ahead of me. Scott had also been losing and re-buying, and after his $65 call he had only another $100 in chips left. My turn to act. I have about $180 in chips. What do I do? The best thing would be to push all in. AKs is a good hand, but only if you can see all five board cards, so just calling would mean I'd be putting myself in a tough spot if I miss the flop. Scott has been playing ultra-aggressively and would certainly put his last $100 into the pot if he didn't see an Ace or King hit, knowing I'm scared and would fold. True there is only about a 50% chance I will hit a king or ace or heart flush, but if Scott calls (a probability) then I've a 50% shot at pot I've put less than half the chips into - and that's if Scott or the maniac are holding a pocket pair. If either or both of the have Ace-something then I'm a big favourite. My pot odds get even better if someone behind me calls too. Clearly the superior move, the logical move, is to go all-in. But I'm too scared. All these huge bets have turned me into coward and I don't have the courage to put all my chips in. And, even worse, I don't have the common sense to fold a hand I won't raise with. I do the worst possible thing because I let my emotion dictate my action - I call.

The three of us see the flop: 9c 2d 4h. As expected Scott goes all-in. Of course I should probably call with my Ace high, Scott was going all-in with anything here, but I'm way too chicken to make that call. I fold. With no more betting possible, the Maniac and Scott flip their cards over. The Maniac has pocket 8's. Scott has J6 of hearts (seriously?!). The turn and river are both hearts and Scott hits a runner-runner flush that would have been crushed by my nut flush had I not been to afraid to play that hand properly.

It's ok to be afraid, but make sure you keep it in check. Small amounts of fear are even beneficial if you can recognize and over-ride your impulses with logic. But when you feel too scared to play well, then it's best to just step away from the table. There is no shame in recognizing your limitations. You have to do this, in fact, before you can find a way to conquer your fear and become a better player.

When You're Beat, You're Beat

No matter how good your hand is, you have to let it go if you think you are beat. That means if you have an ace high flush and the there are two pair on the board, if you bet the pot and an opponent comes over the top on you, you'd better believe he has a full house. Your flush is as worthless as any two rags and as hard as it is, you have to lay them down.

This is one of the most difficult parts of the game; learning to make tough laydowns. Sometimes you know you are beat but it's just so hard to fold a nice hand! If this is a problem you have, then you must learn to take pride in your good folds. Donks want to be known for making hero calls and hero bluffs. You are not a donk. You want to be known for making great laydowns.

Yesterday I made the best pre-flop fold I have ever made in my life.

I brought $200 to a $1/$2 NLHE table. I had barely sat down when on my second or third hand I was dealt pocket kings. There was a straddle on board with one caller, so I raised it $10 (anymore would get too much attention) and the fellow on my left re-raised to $25. Sweet! The small blind, who only had about $60 called. What to do? There is only one hand I am afraid of, and the odds of being dealt AA are less than half of one percent, so I'm confident I'm ahead and it's time to punish these undisciplined louts. I make it $100 to go, committing half my stack, and I'm hoping that someone calls. However the guy on my left does not call - he goes all in with about $300. I should be elated, but instead I am filled with the cold certainty that this guy has the pocket aces. I don't care if the odds are 221 to 1 against it - I think a decent player (and I've played this guy before - he's very good) doesn't re-raise a bet 50 times the big blind with anything but AA. The guy in the small blind calls with the remaining $40 or so he has - whatever.

I think this guy has aces, but am I really going to fold pocket kings pre-flop? I don't think I've folded this hand pre-flop in my life, but I am convinced I am behind. I fold. As there can be no more betting, I show my kings. Lefty nods and says "great fold" and turns over the black aces. The guy in the small blind shows ace-king off, which means had I called I would have only a single king to hit. The dealer lays out the hand and there are no miracle flushes or straight to save the guy with AK. I thank the poker gods that the last king didn't show up either - that would have been hard to swallow.

So. I lost half my stack, but I didn't lose all of it. And I did gain something else - Respect. Knowing that I was now seen as a very disciplined player meant that the others really didn't want to tangle with me too much. I knuckled down and three hours later I had grown my remaining $100 to $330, leaving the table with a $130 profit. How did I do that? I played unbelievably tight, disciplined poker and I basically scared the crap out of everyone when I did enter a pot.

But even if hadn't made that comeback, the important thing is that I laid down a monster hand when I knew it was beat.