Illustration/Poker Travel
So there we were, gathered around an oval-shaped Texas hold’em table, men and women, most dressed casually, whiling away an afternoon, trying to eke out a few bucks after the house raked the pot for $6 on most hands — $4 for operating expenses and $2 for jackpots and bonuses.
The dealer was pitching thin plastic cards, the kings, queens, jacks, treys and deuces sailing briefly through the air before gravity brought them back to table and they nestled in the players’ hands.
I was stuck in the big blind and peered down to find the Jc-3c — a totally and completely unremarkable hand. Five or six players had called behind.
The flop came down 6c-Ah-4c giving me a flush draw. If I bet and everyone called, I could get very nice odds on my flush draw. Instead, I elected to check and see if someone wanted to bet the ace.
In fact, it was checked all around. Perhaps no one had an ace?
The dealer, a woman who raked in chips and occasional outlying cards with a croupier’s stick, burned and turned up the nine of diamonds.
Considering that no one had shown much interest in that pot and that a bet might win it right there and that a club on the river would make a flush if someone did call, I fired out a full bet.
It was, in fact, a semi-bluff. If called on this bet, I might lose if someone called. But I had several ways to improve. And there was one more card — and one more bet — to come.
There were several folds, but one player did decide to call. In fact, he was one of the more skilled players at the the table. His name is Jim or Bob or maybe Jim Bob and he was a consistent winner in a game in which most people are, by virtue of the rake if nothing else, losers.
I thought for a moment. Any club on the river would probably give me a winner. Any jack on the river might also be good. That meant 11 cards would be of considerable help and 35 would not. Then I thought for a second longer and concluded that, like me, Jim Bob was probably also on a flush draw. He would have bet the ace on the flop if he held one in his hand, and I had seen him play low, suited connecters like 8c-7c. Of course, it was also possible he held Kc-Qc.
The dealer burned and turned, and the river card fell. It was the king of spades.
I didn’t hesitate to fire out one more bet. Jim Bob did not hesitate in folding.
And I raked in a nice pot with jack high, which in fact might have been the best hand.
We played a few more laps. A few players tapped out and left, and a few new players sat down to join the table.
On the button, I peeked down to fine 10d-9d. There was a herd of limpers, and I elected to join the herd and limp behind.
The flop came down with a resounding thud — Jc-2c-Js. A clear swing and a miss for 10d-9d.
It went check, check, check, check, check, check. I followed the herd by checking from last position.
The dealer burned and turned, and an offset eight fell.
From early position Jim Bob led out. It folded back to me, and I went into the tank for a few seconds (any longer than a few seconds and the dealer grows restless and begins fanning herself with the cut card). Was Jim Bob slow playing a jack? That was the logical explanation. But there was another explanation — he had paired the eight with a holding like A-8 or even K-8, hands he would definitely play if they were suited. The eight had given us a straight draw and outs to 10s and nines, but there wasn’t enough money in the pot to play a 5-1 shot for the straight.
After another second or two of deliberation, I folded.
“Did you have a jack?” a white-haired woman asked.
“No, but I did have an eight,” he said with a grin, flashing the card.
I played a few more laps, but I was still thinking about that hand. If I had known he had the eight, should I have called the bet? Or was there a better way to play the hand?
In fact, if I had known he held an eight, and considering I had outs to 10s and nines plus the straight draw, I could have raised on a semi-bluff. That might have persuaded him that I held a jack, and he might have folded to a river bet. Or I could have hit one of the 14 cards that would have given me a better two pair or a straight.
It’s worth noting. The art of the semi-bluff is alive and well.
