A Table Full of Maniacs

Maniacs.

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, if you play poker, sooner or later you’re gonna have to deal with them.

I haven’t quite figured out how to do that yet.  When I first switched to NL, I tried to avoid them.  I would ask for a table change if the action got too crazy.  But as I got more comfortable playing NL, I realized that maniacs could be very good for my bankroll.  Or bad.

I still sometimes can’t resist the urge to get away from them if they are just too, well, maniacal.  But now I mostly stick with them and see if I can find a way to get them to give me some of the money they seem to care so little about.

This is a session from several months back, up in Vegas.  It was a new game that started just as I arrived.  Usually a new table plays tight at first, but not this one.  I was in seat 1.  Seat 2 was occupied by someone from the Midwest, and his buddy was in seat 9.  Seat 2 was only semi-aggressive but seat 9 was the guy who never saw a starting hand that he didn’t think was worth $12.  He played most hands and almost always raised.  There was another guy who looked like someone I’d played with before, though he wasn’t a regular regular that I recognized for sure.  He was fairly aggressive too.  Then, to top it off, there was a guy from Sweden wearing a baseball cap—backwards!  Do they even play baseball in Sweden?  You all remember how much I love the backwards baseball cap look (see here).  He was your fairly typical Euro aggro.

So, the plan was, wait for a hand and let the maniacs double or triple me up.  The trouble with that is, unless you get dealt the big hand, you have to put a lot of money in the pot preflop to see if you’re gonna get a big hand.  And ideally, you should really lower your starting hand selection since you don’t need as good as hand as you would against a normal table to get paid off.  So, more money at risk.  Thus, it was a bad time to be card dead.

And that’s what I was.  Early in the session, but after I had most of the aggros figured out, I got pocket Jacks.  I was under-the-gun, and reflexively put out a raise.  I raised to $12 which was the normal raise at the table, though more than I would usually raise.  And only one player called.  None of the aggros called.  Just the tightest player at the table.  Damn.  Why didn’t I think that through?  This was the perfect table to unleash the dreaded limp/re-raise.  I might have been able to shove when it got back to me.  Stupid, stupid.

What’s worse, I flopped a set.  It was a rainbow flop, Jack-high, so I checked.  He didn’t bite, he checked behind me.  The turn blanked, and I felt I had to bet then.  I put out $15 and he insta-mucked.  A set of Jacks totally wasted.

And I didn’t really see another big starting hand for the rest of the night.

Just one more hand to mention before I get to the story of the night.  I had 3-2 offsuit in the big blind.  By some miracle, no one raised.  I flopped a gut shot and one of the maniacs bet $2.  Weird.  I took it to mean he maybe had a monster?  I called.  The turn was a blank and no one bet.  I hit the gut shot on the river and bet $10, which got one caller.  The wheel was good and I won a very small pot.

In fact, for the next couple of hours, I didn’t have a hand to write down.  I might have won a few small pots, but mostly I was bleeding chips due to having to call raises with marginal or semi-decent starting hands just to see a flop.  A flop that never hit me.  The way the aggros were all playing, there was no real opportunity to pull off a bluff, and I never had a hand good enough to make a semi-bluff.

I had to add another $100 to my original $200 buy-in.  I was down to about $180 when I was pretty close to calling it a night, very frustrated.

That’s when I was dealt Jack-10 offsuit on the button.  To my astonishment, it was limped to me.  I considered raising, but two of the bigger aggros were behind me and I was afraid one of them would three-bet me off the hand.  If one of them just raised, I could justify a call, but a three-bet would be too much.  Besides, I was so excited at the thought of playing a decent hand maybe cheaply I couldn’t pass it up.  To my surprise, the small blind folded and the big blind didn’t raise. and at least four or five of us saw the flop.

The flop was Ace-9-8.  And it was all diamonds.  My Jack was also a diamond.  I had an open-ender and a draw to the third nut flush. Which of course might not be any good.

Surprisingly, it was checked to me.  I checked as well, at this point hoping maybe if I hit my flush I could at least get a drawing ticket even if I lost the pot.

The turn was the 7 of diamonds.  It was the best card I could have hoped for—or was it the worst card I could have seen?  It gave me the straight.  It gave me the flush.  It gave me a gut shot straight flush draw.  If only I could turn that black 10 in my hand into a diamond.

This time, the newest aggro at the table led out for $10.  On his very first hand at the table, after a couple of limpers, he just shoved his entire $140 stack preflop.  Of course, no one called.  The aggro to my left said, “I like your style.”  Really?  You like that?  Could someone please tell me what hand he would have had to have had in order for that to have been a good play?  Aces?  Yeah, win $7.  Seven-deuce?  Risking a lot to get those seven bucks.

Anyway, he bet out the $10, a couple of players folded, and the last guy to act before me raised to $45.  I start counting chips as I considered how to proceed.  But before I could do anything, I hear the player who led out say, “all in.”  He had me covered.  Now I know if I call I’m in for my whole stack.

It was a tough decision.  Considering what maniacs the players were, I thought there was at least some chance that my hand was the best one.  Plus I had the damn straight flush draw.  Obviously, only one out there, but I could be good without it.  If the two guys left in the hand were both tight, it’s a different story.  But these guys?  No, that Jack high flush might be good.

I called and then the guy shoved as he had announced, and the other guy called—he had a huge stack, the biggest stack at the table.  The less than $200 he needed to call hardly made a dent in his stack.  Well, ok, it seemed unlikely at least one of them didn’t have me beat, except the guy with the huge stack who called knew what a maniac the other player was, so maybe he was calling light.

I went ahead with my plan to call the all-in because I had one card to guarantee me a monster pot and at least a possibility of getting that pot even if that one magic card didn’t come.  Plus, by calling, I would be getting a drawing ticket, and the drawing was less than 15 minutes away.  But honestly, that wasn’t really a consideration. If I was sure I was beat I wouldn’t have put all that money in just to get a ticket.

The river was not the miracle 10 of diamonds.  It was a total blank.  The first guy (who had bet $10, then shoved) showed 8-7 offuit for two pair (I told you he was a maniac—he shoved two pair on a four-diamond board).  But the other guy had the nuts—the King of diamonds (and a black Queen as well).  I was felted.

But I got a ticket.  Problem was, in order to be eligible for the drawing, I had to be active in a game, and the drawing was still a few minutes away.  One of the reasons I called was that I was basically winding down for the night and didn’t plan on rebuying if I lost.  Except that I had to rebuy in order to be eligible for the ticket.  I knew that and just rebought for the $60 minimum.  My new strategy: fold everything without looking, post a few blinds, and hang on until the drawing.

No, no….I didn’t do that.  I did buy in for the minimum and I played tight and didn’t really get anything to play.  One suited Ace and I missed the flop.

My one lousy ticket was not drawn out of the drum, and I was done for the night.

Funny….at the time, I was really upset and felt that I played that hand really badly.  In the morning, I felt better, thinking it was ok because my flush really could have been good there.  The guy with the King of diamonds might have had two pair as well, or a set, or even the 10 of diamonds I was praying for.

And now that I’m writing this up months later, I’m back to thinking it was dumb on my part.

Poker, huh?