All That Razz

All eyes on the WSOP today as the much-ballyhooed H.O.R.S.E. event finally began. I discussed the event in an earlier post, where I also mentioned how it had renewed my interest in games other than hold ’em. Coincidentally or not, today was the day I finally took the plunge on the Razz tables over on Full Tilt Poker. Intended only to play a few dozen hands, but ended up sticking around for close to two hours. I ended up on the losing side, but had a lot of fun and will likely be back soon.

Before playing my first hand, I had compiled some advice from a few different sources. No exhaustive study, mind you. But I did at least make sure I knew the rules of the game going in. The original cue to give Razz a try had come from an episode of the excellent Ante Up! podcast from a few months back. Hosts Christopher Cosenza and Scott Long discussed how the game is played and offered a few strategy tips, then Cosenza followed up with a post on the Ante Up! blog in which he shared some more advice. I read through Cosenza’s comments there, then (as he recommends) I also read over the brief section on Razz in Doyle Brunson's Super/System: A Course in Power Poker as well as Phil Hellmuth’s chapter on Razz in Play Poker Like the Pros.

(I am aware how Hellmuth’s book tends to provoke extreme responses -- mostly negative -- and one day will post something here about Play Poker Like the Pros. I won’t be blindly defending the book or Hellmuth, mind you, but neither will I reject it wholesale as most seem to do.)

When I clicked the Razz tab at Full Tilt I saw that there were only a few tables going. There were a couple of active tables at higher stakes (one $2.00/$4.00 and one $8.00/$16.00). I knew I didn’t want to venture there. I scrolled down to find a couple of $0.25/$0.50 tables going and so took a spot at one of those. I adopted Cosenza’s “tight is right” strategy and restricted myself only to playing hands where I had been dealt three cards eight or lower (non-paired, of course) -- i.e., a "three-card eight." Was actually dealt once and cringed as I folded. I was doing a lot of folding, actually, and after a while decided to fill the time calculating exactly the chances of being dealt a three-card eight. (If my math is correct, it is a little over 16% . . . just about 1 out of 6 hands.)

I finally got involved in a few pots, winning a few and losing a few. I won about half of my showdowns -- I don’t know if that’s a decent percentage or not, really. I realized fairly quickly how you can often know precisely whether or not you are holding a winner. Occasionally you have your opponent “board-locked” (as Hellmuth says), meaning you can know with 100% certainty that your hand beats what he is showing. This circumstance comes up more frequently (per hands played) than does having the “absolute nuts” in hold ’em, to be sure.

By far the most memorable hand came when I was dealt . Everyone put in the $0.05 ante. A player two seats to my right with had to put in the bring-in of $0.10. The player to his left, Petty, called with . I completed to $0.25, and GenialGeorge called with the . Petty called as well. Fourth street brought me the , giving me four-fifths of a wheel, so I bet out the quarter. GenialGeorge had picked up the and called. Petty folded. Fifth street was a sweet for yours truly, giving me a “smooth 6-low” -- a very strong hand, especially by fifth street. GenialGeorge, meanwhile, had picked up the and so he was first to act. He bet the $0.50, and I immediately raised him to $1.00. He called. He drew the on sixth street, and so I bet out again only to be raised by GenialGeorge. I reraised to $1.50 and he called.

Looking at the hands -- I had and George had -- I felt pretty confident I had to be ahead. He had to have precisely a deuce and a trey in the hole to be ahead of me, and I had one of each. (Also, Petty had folded a trey as well.) Seventh street cards were dealt face down, and I again bet. GenialGeorge again raised me. Could it be? I called and yes, indeed, he had the wheel: . We had been dealt the two best possible hands in Razz, and we both had hit those hands on fifth street!

I couldn’t complain, though. I did make a couple of wheels myself before I finished, and while I ended up down about $12 for the session I went back over to the limit hold ’em tables and quickly made that back. Looking back, I realize I did end up chasing a few times when I shouldn’t have and even allowed myself to play a couple of 9-high hands when I knew better. Most folks at the table seemed to know what they were doing, although there was that one guy who showed down a full house on one hand and quads on another. (That caused some chat.)

Fun to learn and play a new game. I certainly recommend it. Meanwhile, what is this I hear about marked cards at the H.O.R.S.E. event?! I can see how marking the cards would make Razz easier. Somewhat, anyway . . . .

Gun Shy

Not running so well the last few days. For me the losing session usually takes a similar shape. Begins with bad beats and/or “nothing-you-can-do”-type hands where I play a hand correctly (or at least reasonably) but lose out. Then comes the sketchy, “I’m-gonna-get-it-back-and-quick”-type play that generally makes it all but impossible to pull myself back up.

For example, it was about my fifth hand today when I was in the big blind and called a preflop raiser with my . Four players saw a flop of . I bet, two players folded, and the preraiser raised. I reraised and he just called. The turn brought the , I bet and he called. The river was a blank, I again bet, he again called and showed his . I proceeded to lose a couple of hands with lower flushes, then suffered a bad beat or two. That’s when the decision-making mechanism started to weaken. Next thing you know I’m cold-calling preflop raises with KJ-offsuit and the like. I’m chasing when the outs aren’t all “clean” (e.g., going for a straight with a flush draw or pair on board). I’m calling down coordinated boards with middle pairs. And so forth.

Toward the end of the session I had a fairly rapid sequence of three hands that told me it was time to step away -- not because I was losing (although that was reason enough, to be sure), but because I realized I was no longer confident I could make correct decisions. These three hands came relatively quickly -- within an orbit or so of the 6-max $0.50/$1.00 limit game I was playing. I thought I’d briefly describe these hands as a demonstration of how a player’s decision-making abilities might become compromised by the right (or wrong) series of events.

In the first hand I was dealt in middle position and raised preflop. I had one caller behind me, and both blinds called. The flop was an unhappy , but both blinds checked to me. I bet out and only the big blind called me. I wasn’t too concerned about the big blind since I’d seen him routinely calling flop bets and then often letting go. I was glad to see the come on the turn. The big blind checked and I bet out only to be check-raised. A combination of suspicion and stubbornness led me to reraise and the big blind called. Then came the river, the , and the big blind bet. I called to see my opponent showing the . “Nice,” I typed. “Thx,” he replied. Perhaps he was also being sarcastic.

I might have taken solace in fact that I had, as it turned out, read the situation correctly from beginning to end. Still, I was out another $5.50. A couple of hands later I’m in the big blind and get dealt . The button and small blind both call, and I check to see an unexciting flop of . Everyone checks. The turn is the , and again, everyone checks. The river brings the , giving me a nice little, unexpected straight. The small blind bets, I raise, the button calls, and the small blind also calls. We all have queens, as it turns out. The button also has an ace, though, and thus gets the whole pot for himself.

Hmm. I look around the table. On the right is someone who check-raises the turn with a gutshot draw and a king on board after his opponent preraised. On the left is someone who doesn’t raise preflop from the button with AQ, nor does he raise on the river when holding the nuts. How do I play against these people, I wonder? I’m almost ambivalent when two hands later I’m on the button and look down to see . The UTG limps, I raise, both blinds call as does the UTG. The flop comes and the small blind bets, the big blind calls, the UTG folds, and I raise. The SB calls as does the BB. The turn is the and again the SB bets out. The BB folds and I think for a moment. The way things have been going, he could well have really made trips here, I decide. I can’t fold, though, so I call. The river is the and the SB bets out again. I make the call, forcing him to show his .

A ten-dollar pot for Shamus, although I can’t say I enjoyed it that much. That’s because I knew even though I’d won the hand, I was lost. Having shot and missed so many times previously, I’d become too skittish to pull the trigger when I needed to. Not a good way to be, I decided, and so quietly moved the mouse up to the upper right corner and clicked “Leave Table.” As I probably should have done a few dozen hands earlier.

Photo: “Smith & Wesson "Military and Police" revolver,” Oleg Volk. CC BY 2.5.