Three is a Magic Number

Tried another SNG (my fifth over the past week). After taking a 3rd and a 1st in the first two, I’d failed to cash in the last two. Perhaps the third time would be the charm. I played another $5.00+$0.50 (limit, 9-handed) on Stars. I'm not planning to narrate every one of these, but this one ended up being so wild I couldn’t resist sharing.

First hand of the tournament. I get the button and am dealt . My initial response is to feel slightly uneasy. Pocket jacks on level 1 sometimes spells an invitation to danger. Sort of like having the boss’s wife openly flirt with you at the Christmas party. Steel yourself, Shamus. Remember, it’s not worth it . . . .

Then I remember this is a limit SNG. Mathematically impossible to bust on the first hand. By the time the action gets around the table to me, I’m feeling stout enough to reraise (properly) the cutoff who raised following two limpers. Everyone, including both blinds, calls my three-bet, so we have five players and a pot of 300. Flop is and everyone checks to me. I bet, and three of the other four call. The turn is the . Oof! Quads. It checks around to me and I decide to check as well, hoping somebody makes something on the river so I can get some action here. (Not necessarily the correct play, but the stakes are only 20/40 and I’m not making a lot on this hand anyway unless someone hits something . . . I’m pretty sure no one else cared much for that second jack on the board.) The river was the , and I got two check-callers (one with 85 and the other with 64). I win a not-so-bad pot of 560 chips, and am up to 1,940 right away.

I take a larger pot on the first hand of level 2 when (again from the button) I’m able to win a hand with KQ without showing, boosting me up to 2,410. Then, before level 2 is completed, I get dealt KK not once, but twice -- and lose both hands. On the first one I had three players call my preflop raise, and the one with A5 flopped an ace and turned a five. On the second I had four callers and when the board came I got out in the face of a reraise (the hand was won by the player to my left who cold-called me with 58-offsuit). Even after having cowboys cracked twice within five hands, I still had 1,960 chips (and the lead), and was feeling pretty good about how I'd handled things so far.

The game calmed down a bit. I won a few small pots and lost a few, staying out of the way mostly while five players went to the rail. We were at Level 5 (stakes 150/300) when I picked up in the small blind. I was down at that point to 1,448 chips. It folded around to me and I raised, and the big blind (then chip leader with 5,642) called. The flop was . I bet, he called. The turn: . Nice. I bet, he called. Must have an ace, I thought. Or perhaps a gutshot and picked up a club draw here or something. I’m also thinking this is the hand where I’m gonna get healthy. The turn is the and I mindlessly bet again only to be raised. Immediately I regretted putting out the bet, but realistically hadn't many options at the moment I had. Now I'm looking at a measly 398 chips left, and so can put in 300 to call or just be done with it right here. Perversely I decide just to call and he shows . Criminy! I’m down to 98 chips.

Next hand I’m dealt . All in! Wheeee! Two others call, and they both check it down as the cards come . . . . . . . Lord. Quads again. If I’d saved a bet on the river the previous hand, I’d probably have 600 more chips here, but no matter. I’m up to a robust 294 chips.

Hand after next I get and I’m all in again. An eight falls on the turn, and that’s good enough to beat my two opponents in the hand, both of whom had small pocket pairs. A few hands later I’m up to 1,070. Meanwhile the other short stack had started to drop, actually slipping down below me to 608 chips. (The other two left were around 8,000 and 3,000.) I may actually cash in this sucker, I thought. I soon get in the cutoff and raise it up. Mr. Eight Thousand calls me from the button, then the other short stack reraises, leaving himself only 158 chips. I call as does the chip leader, and the flop comes . Sweet. The short stack predictably puts out the bet of 150 and I smooth call, wanting to keep the big stack in this hand. He calls. I’m not only gonna knock out bubble boy, but this hand is gonna get me in a position to do better than third. The turn is the and the short stack puts in his last eight chips. I raise, the big stack folds, and we show our cards. What does he have? . No! The river is a meaningless king and I’m back to square one (with 462 chips).

“Threes killin’ me,” I type. No one responds. They're no doubt glad to see me bumped two hands later with 98-suited.

The last round of hands having been such a crapshoot, I wasn’t that upset at having bubbled. I played fairly well, I thought -- though hardly perfectly -- and if not for those sets of treys I’d have easily made the money, probably making at least second. Encouraging enough to keeping trying, I think.

Lately I’ve also taken a couple of shots in those crazy Turbo-FPP satellites for the WCOOP. Got sort-of-deep in one (finishing around 20th in a field of 135; needed to make the top four to qualify, though). I have enough FPPs to try again, so we’ll see. I would say the third time is the charm, but I have to say I'm having mixed feelings about the number three just now . . . .

More from the Tourney Journey

Tried a couple more SNGs yesterday and faltered a bit, bringing down that gaudy ROI I’d established after cashing in the first two. Both were on Party (same as before -- $5.00+$1.00, limit hold ’em, ten-handed, 2,000 starting chips, top three places paid). In the first I needlessly bled some chips early trying to push people off pots and found myself down to 1,190 within a half-hour or so. Then I had an unlucky hand where I flopped top pair-top kicker, then got called down by a fellow who made a runner-runner flush. That crippled me (I was left with just 280 chips), and I ended up all-in a couple of hands later with crummy . I was called by an ace, didn’t improve, and scampered out of there with my tail between my legs in eighth.

Suitably chastened, I tried again and played much better the second time around. Started off more patiently, then took a nice pot (1,230) in level 2 when I turned a straight. Took another (2,440) in level 4 when I pushed with and was called all the way by a short stack as the board came . Didn’t pick up much for the next level or two and by the time we got down to four players I had 3,300 chips, placing me just ahead of the other short stack who had 3,120. The blinds were 400/800, so I didn’t have a lot of room to manuever. Still, I felt confident if I could get heads-up with the chip leader I could take him. He’d made several passive (though luckily-timed) plays that made his big stack less threatening to me.

Then came hand no. 58. Not sure what to think of my play here. (Anyone with ideas, please chime in.)

I was the BB (with 3,300). The chip leader (7,220) was UTG and the other short stack (3,120) was on the button. The SB had 6,360. I was dealt and was a little surprised to see the entire table call it around to me. (I don’t believe we’d had a single family pot since we’d gotten to four-handed.) I checked my option. Looking back, I can say that at the time I didn’t even consider raising here from early position. Perhaps I should have. The flop came and the SB bet.

The SB -- I’ll call him WilyWilly -- was actually the only player left about whom I had much concern. For about ten hands Willy had been showing a lot of aggression, successfully building his stack thanks to others’ growing tentativeness in the face of the bubble. My read here was he’d hit the flop in some way, but not as well as I had, so I raised. It folded around and Willy reraised. Here’s where I had to decide whether to commit fully to this hand or give it up. There was 4,000 in the pot. I had 2,100 left in my stack and it was 400 more to call. If I do call, it is very unlikely I’m giving up the hand unless the turn and river are particularly scary. And, of course, calling down the rest of the way (at 800 chips a pop) would mean exhausting my entire stack. What to do, what to do . . . ?

"We run heedlessly into the abyss after putting something in front of us to stop seeing it." So says Pascal, anyway. I capped it. The turn was the , pairing the board. I actually liked the look of that card. Didn't seem like WilyWilly would have reraised me before with just bottom pair. So we got it all in. The river was a blank, and Willy turned over for a boat. I was out in 4th, which pays the same as 10th. Zip.

Given how WilyWilly had been pushing us around, I felt I couldn’t have gotten away there. If I had not raised and then capped the flop, I might have escaped with at least a few chips left. Whether I’d have survived for long with the blinds where they were is another story. We only had a hand or so to go in level 5, and the blinds would’ve risen to 600/1,200 the next time around. Indeed, I was pretty far past what Harrington calls an “inflection point.” Not a good place to be.

Live and (hopefully) learn. I know better than to think I’m going to cash every time out in these, especially being so out-of-practice. I’ll probably keep at it, though, even if the SNG’s aren’t ultimately as lucrative for me as the ring games tend to be. Meanwhile, the jury’s still out on whether I’m trying an FPP satellite to the WCOOP. The satellites are set up as Turbo-style crapshoots, so I ain't got much in the way of expectations if I were to try one. Other than to flop sets every other hand, that is . . . .

Photo: Tom Neal from the 1945 film Detour (adapted), public domain.