The place was hopping.  Nearly every table was going and there were already long lists for the lower stakes Texas Holdem games.  I went over to the newly computerized sign-up board and, as is my habit,  checked out the Stud poker games.  Three $20/$40 games were full.  There was a seat in one of the two $10/$20 games.  And all four $5/$10 games were full.  There was also a $75/$150 game that I don’t touch;  it’s really too high for my bankroll.  But there were two seats.  Tempting but forbidden.

The $20/$40 game was the one I wanted in on.  So I put my name on the list.  I took a seat in $10/$20 while I waited.  I also put my name on the $5/$5 No Limit game  --  just in case the $10/$20 Stud was dead.

It was.  Half the table seemed to be perennially in the bathroom or the snack bar.  The remainder were as tight as  (fill in the blank).  I played a loud, aggressive version of my careful self and managed to steal a couple of antes before they called my name over to the $5/$5 game at about 11 AM.

There were two seats open,  one to the immediate right of a guy I recognized as a solid,  regular,  and careful player.  This guy was hugely stacked with about $2,000 in chips and a thick folded wad of what appeared to be $100s backing it up.  (I found out later that it was $4,000 in cash.)  The other seat was to the left of another large stack  -–  about $2,000 in chips.  I couldn’t be certain,  but he did not appear to be a regular.  Exercising my own instruction about seat selection,  I sat down next to the unknown player on my right and avoided having the hugely stacked regular on my left...

The guy on my right had all the trappings of the typical poker  “tough guy.”  My grandfather had a name for guys like this.  He called them Tyrones.  I don’t know why he did that.  Maybe it was a reference to the former matinee idol Tyrone Power.

You see these guys all over the casino these days.  They have big builds  -– big arms,  big chests,  often big waists.  This guy wore glossy running pants with a matching running jacket over a tank top.  He had at least two gold chainsaround his neck and sported a loud metallic set of sunglasses,  gelled hair, and a “you want to start something with me"  expression permanently forcing out his lower jaw.

You can’t become wedded to your first impression,  of course.  You must learn to adjust it as you observe someone’s play.  But these instant impressions are useful in helping you figure out how to play against strangers.  It’s a time when stereotyping is useful, although admittedly it’s not 100% accurate.

How to play against the tough guy?  I’ll show you.

I am by nature a very careful no limit player.  I don’t like to gamble and don’t feel comfortable playing  “wild.”  I wait,  generally,  for big cards,  and tend to play them aggressively  --  to increase the possibility of winning the pot,  even if I am diminishing the size of the pot by knocking players out with my aggression.

I had been playing true to form for about an hour and a half this Sunday morning,  folding nearly all of my holdings.  I had about six playable hands during that period.  I won four of them with a pot-sized raise when everyone else folded.  I conceded two hands on the flop when there was some significant action and I didn’t hit.  The three solid players at the table to my left knew me to be this way and tended to stay out of my way.  The other players caught on fairly quickly.

The player to my right was making a run at establishing himself as the table bully.  He raised a lot of hands pre-flop,  winning many uncontested.  The players at this table were very cautious.  I saw him show down his hand a few times.  His holdings were often very weak:  K-6 off in mid-position,  J-7 suited in early position  (when he raised the $5 blind to $40).  He and another bad player checked down a hand from the Turn.  "Tyrone"  won with A-8 when he spiked an 8 on the River.  This after raising in early position to $35 and betting $50 on the unhelpful flop.

This player,  and hundreds like him,  is what makes Foxwoods such a wonderful room.  In other,  smaller rooms,  this game is usually filled with nearly all regulars.  The newer players don’t migrate here.  But Foxwoods has such a huge number of tables that there is plenty of room for new guys who want to try the  “big game.”  There were four of these $5/$5 games going by noon.  Many of the players probably came down to play $2/$4 limit but got bored or seduced by their egos.  So they put their names on a list for the $5/$5 No Limit game.  And they ended up with a seat.  What a country!

This guy clearly was not a very experienced No Limit player.  But here he was, enjoying a bit of a roll,  convincing himself that his toughness was an asset and that he could stack up against the big boys.  A combination of short-term luck and the wariness of other cautious players taught him the wrong lessons.  He seemed to have convinced himself that their caution was weakness.  Playing hands as he did,  it was only a matter of time before he lost his stack.  But for now,  he was ROOLING!

It was tempting to try and go head-to-head with this guy on many occasions.  I knew he played sub-premium hands.  A number of my mediocre holdings were likely to be superior to his.  But I wanted to have a truly strong hand before challenging him  --  not a toss-up. I bided my time.  My stack had grown slightly from $700 to $850 or so,  just by winning a few small pots.  I'd had no showdowns and no serious confrontations.  He had a couple of thousand.

I was in mid-position.  I was dealt 10-10.  The two blinds each put in their $5. There were two folds,  and then Tyrone raised to $30.  It was a standard play for him  –-  he did it about every second hand.  I didn’t think he was strong at all.  I wanted to win the hand there,  and I certainly wanted to limit it to just him and me.  So I raised to $90.  Unfortunately, the very deep-pocketed solid player behind me called.  So did Tyrone  -–  after giving me a jaw-jutting glance of intimidation.

$280 in the pot.  I’m in mid-position.  Tyrone to my right; good player to my left. Flop is golden:  3-A-T rainbow.  Tyrone’s enthusiasm for his hand had been slightly chilled by my pre-flop raise.  He checks.  I think about betting.  But I thought that the solid player,  having called my pre-flop raise,  would likely bet if I checked  -  since I read him for a fairly big hand.  I figured that with a pair of Jacks,  Queens or Kings,  or a big Ace,  he’d read me for a weaker hand and bet after me.  I hoped he’d bet and I’d reraise  -–  either with Tyrone in if he couldn’t fold his hand or without him.  Either way,  I figured to win a lot of money.

Unfortunately,  the solid player just checked after me.  I'd made a terrible mistake by not betting.  I silently cursed my misjudgment.

The Turn brought another Ace,  giving me a monster.  I knew that if anyone had held a higher hand on the flop like A-3 or A-T or A-A that they surely would have bet it.  I knew I had the best hand.  My consideration was how to extract the most money.

Tyrone made the decision easy for me.  He pushed out $100 and said,  looking at me,  “I bet!”  He stared at me over the top of his sunglasses,  jaw jutting out in defiance.  Now I had to think for a few seconds.  I could call,  letting in the solid player to my left,  saving my large bet for the River.  But there was at least a slim chance that the River would give someone a bigger full house:  If either of them held Ace-x and x came on the River or if either held a Premium Pair like Queens or Jacks and one of them came on the River,  I was dead.  So I decided to make it very expensive now.

But how expensive?  I decided on raising $400  -  about the size of the pot.  I figured that the solid player would see that this would make a call incorrect, even if he had a great draw.  And I figured that the other player,  Tyrone,  could be goaded into a call.

Sure enough,  the solid player folded.  (He later told me that he'd laid down trip Aces  -–  having Ace-x.)  Now it was Tyrone’s turn.  I used some dimestore psychology.

He stared at me.  I wanted him to call.  It was a terrible call for him if he had a drawing hand to a bigger full house.  It was an even worse call if he thought I was bluffing and he held a mediocre hand that couldn’t improve.  So I returned his stare and gave him a heavy dose of my own jaw-jutting  --  to make sure he’d lose face if he folded.

You see,  tough guys respond aggressively to shows of strength.  I’ve noticed this over the years.  The more brash and obnoxious the response,  the more they feel the need to hang in there and not back down from the fight.  So when you have a monster and you’re threatened by a Tyrone,  try your best to look strong  –-  even if you think it might make them fold.  The opposite is usually true.  They’ll see in you what they see in themselves  –-  a guy pretending to be tough.

Tyrone called me.  I showed my Tens Full and he mucked his hand.  After the hand was over the solid player volunteered that he mucked Trip Aces.  Tyrone said that he was third best.  Go figure.  He left shortly thereafter,  busted completely by another player.  He left a dollar chip on the table saying he was going to get another stack of chips.  But he never came back.