I was spending a week of vacation in the Catskills visiting my mom,  who lives on a beautiful lake.  It’s perfect for fishing but lousy for poker.  Since I know practically no one in this small town,  I have no regular poker game.  Finding one is part of the challenge.

CLAIM YOUR FREE CHIPS

I went online to an excellent site for finding a game:  www.homepokergames.com.  They’re normally all one needs to hook up in a strange place.  But they were unhelpful in this instance  --  with no response from the few folks I emailed listing games within 45 minutes of my vacation spot.

The best I could do was to hook up with a game in New York City,  about 90 minutes away in Manhattan.  And even that took some doing,  with a couple of phone calls to establish where the game was,  the stakes,  and how I would get there.  I considered myself triumphant when I found the game and headed to play.

The game was to be $1/$2 blind,  no-limit holdem with a $300 maximum buy-in.  I was assured during my three conversations with the game organizer and host that there were indeed many players.  It seemed from these calls that the three hours in round-trip driving would be worth it.

There was no action as I walked in.  There were about five poker tables in the establishment.  Two were taken up by a few elderly Italian gentlemen and ladies playing some non-poker cards and chatting over coffee.  One table,  with what appeared to be a professional dealer,  had about four stacks of poker chips but no players.  I asked Harry,  who had greeted me warmly,  where the poker action was.  He gestured to the empty table and said,  “They’re out smoking cigarettes but they’ll be back soon.”

True enough,  within a few minutes three players and he sat down,  as did I,  and we proceeded to play some five-handed no-limit poker.  It wasn’t exactly the lively and busy game that I had been promised,  but in the words of Nick the Greek,  it was action,  wasn’t it?  Shortly thereafter,  one of the players left  --  leaving us four-handed.  The host agreed to spot me two rounds of  “time”  for free,  meaning that he’d waive the normal $5 per half-hour charge if I stuck around.  I said that I would.

I rocked around for about 20 minutes  --  neither winning nor losing any pots of any substance  --  when the fourth player announced that he was going,  leaving us three-handed.  The dealer started to deal when I protested that I really wasn’t much interested in playing three-handed.  The host agreed that it didn’t make sense.  He asked if I’d like to play a three-handed tournament for $30 a head,  winner take all.  As there were no other games,  and I had just driven 90 minutes to play,  I unenthusiastically agreed.

We started with 1,000 in chips with blinds of $25/$25,  progressing every 10 hands to $25/$50,  $50/$100 and then $100/$200.  There were no hands of note,  though with only three I managed to steal a bunch of blinds with aggressive raising from late position.  These guys were experienced and were,  I deduced,  doing roughly the same thing.  By the $50/$100 level I was up a couple of hundred dollars.

On the first hand at $100/$200 I was dealt Ah Tc.  I had about $1,000 and went all in.  The small blind called for the additional $900 and the large blind folded.  I flipped over my hand and he flipped over Ah 3d.  I was a huge favorite but he flopped a 3 and I didn’t improve.  He went on to beat the other player on the next hand,  so the tournament was over and I was without any poker action.

The host generously suggested playing at another club,  this one uptown in the 30s on the East Side,  a place known simply as  “Bluff.”  There I was welcomed by three poker tables of $1/$2 action and about 30 players.  Two dollars got me a membership;  $5 per half-hour got me free drinks and the right to stay in the game.

The games were populated by a bunch of local guys in their 20s and 30s.  I was clearly the oldest guy in the room  --  graduating from high school before most of these players were born.  I don’t mind that at all,  as I tend to get a little more respect when I bet,  and can steal some pots early,  convincing the other players that I’m a tight/aggressive sort of player not prone to bluffing.  I find that this suits my natural style  --  enabling me to steal some pots later on when these typically timid players are guarding their depleted stacks more carefully.

A series of two hands came up that I thought were instructive  --  for what I was and wasn’t able to do.

That First Hand:  Someone makes a Good Fold
The first hand came about 35 or 40 minutes into my two-hour session.  I had folded every hand I had been dealt.  A player commented on my tight ways and I responded that I was hiding my loose and passive style behind a façade of tight play.  He didn’t seem to get it,  just pointed out that I folded an awful lot for a loose and passive player.  I smiled and nodded.

Then I was dealt a pair of Kings one off the button.  An early position player raised to $20 in this $1/$2 blind game.  This was a typical raise,  even though it seems absurdly large for the blinds.  Some games get like that.  Players just start to raise by ever larger amounts until the blinds themselves are meaningless.  It’s important not to infer too much strength from these hugely disproportional raises.  (In these low blinded games,  it’s more important to recognize that the raise has become standard and to gauge your opponent’s bet according to that standard.)

He got two callers before the action came to me.  I looked down and saw my Kings.  I thought quickly about whether to raise or call.  Raising seemed pretty obvious  --  since I didn’t want some lone Ace to call the pot and draw for an Ace.  So I raised to $80.  I got the button to fold.  The early position bettor thought for a while,  then he raised me all in for another $180 or so.  I had him covered,  called him,  and heard him say,  “So,  you have Kings or Aces?”

We flipped over our hands and he had Queens.  The Flop,  Turn,  and River didn’t help him and I won a large pot for this game,  busting my opponent,  who promptly left.  Interestingly,  the player after me on the button,  who had wrestled with calling,  made a point of telling me that he folded his pair of 7s and was glad he did.

Next Hand:  Never confide in your opponent
The very next hand I was dealt the Ah 9h.  Five people called the big blind.  I thought about calling but decided that since I had just won a large pot that I would raise,  hoping to narrow the field and give my hand a better shot of winning or getting a free card on the flop.  I raised to $20.  I got one caller  --  the player immediately after me  (who had folded his 7s on the prior hand).  It was a crying call.  He didn’t appear to be an actor.  I judged him for a weak Ace or a mid to low pair.  If he had had a strong pair or even A-K,  I figured he would either have raised me or called me more easily.

The flop was Kh 5h 3c.  I had first action and bet $25  --  a continuation bet and semi-bluff.  I would have been happy to win the pot right there,  but I figured I also had a nice nut flush draw as a backup plan.  I didn’t want to put a pot-sized bet at risk,  since I would have conceded if he raised me and figured that he’d likely fold if he had nothing.  He hemmed and hawed and finally called.

The Turn was no help,  an offsuit 2s.  I started thinking that he might have a weak pair of Kings or even a middle pair,  loose as he was.  I had not improved and didn’t want to make a more expensive shot at the pot.  So I checked.  He quickly checked behind me  --  seemed relieved that I didn’t bet.

The River was the 6h.  I'd made the nut flush.  Here was my biggest decision of the night:  How could I get the most possible chips from this weak,  passive player?

I wanted him to put in all of his chips if he hit a lower flush or if he had a pair of Kings or some other lesser hand to mine.  I thought that an all-in bet might scare him off.  So I considered some lesser bet  -- maybe a half-pot bet to encourage him to call.  I decided that since I had knocked him out of the last pot  -–  and he was proud of his fold  -–  that he might be less inclined to fold this hand,  not wanting to be pegged as a weak tight player.  I find that players like this often act bolder after one  “good”  fold.

I opted to do something I often do in critical moments like this in games with these weak,  passive,  timid players.  I made a stab at him personally,  hoping to goad him into calling.  I thrust my chips out into the middle of the table and said,  “ALL IN”  as boldly as I could.  Cheap parlor trick,  I know  --  looking to get him to defend his manhood and call me.  But it’s a trick that often works against these players,  who are there as much for ego as for money.

He paused.  He looked at me.  I looked back  --  stiffly.  I tried to think of the reverse psychology that might work.  So I said,  “Don’t call me.  You’re beaten.”  With a sneer of sorts.  (I’m a little embarrassed as I write this  --  so cheesy is this type of play.)  He asked me what I had.  I told him that it was probably a bit better than his hand  --  at least if he had the pair of Kings that I put him on.  I told him there was no shame in folding.  He offered to fold if I gave him $20 out of the pot.  I told him that he should just be a man and fold outright  --  that I wasn’t going to buy him out.  He said he had a flush.  I said that I didn’t think it would win  -- vbut that I didn’t think he had a flush anyway.

Blah,  blah,  blah.  As I said,  cheap tricks.