Day two was a rough one for me. I started the day as one of the big chip leaders, but within the first limit, I was down below par. A couple of tough hands forced me to readjust my strategy. I was totally looking forward to dominating the table and picking up pot after pot, but I knew how important it was to reassess the situation and realize that I didn’t have powerful bullets behind me.
So, I did what you’re supposed to do: I slowed down a little bit — just a little bit, mind you. I’m no pushover with chips or without! You might be able to bully the guy on Page 20 off a pair of queens, but I’m not about to back down from a war. Sure, I’d rather avoid one if possible, but when your chip count drops below par, sometimes you have to take some risks.
Anyway, I picked up Q-Q and was back in action! Winning a big pot against 10-10, I was back over $100,000 again and feeling frisky. Just then, I got moved to a new table with new surroundings.
A player three to my left had a mountain of chips that was an absurd amount at that stage of the tournament. He was the only one at the table with more than my approximate $140,000.
As I said, I was feeling frisky once again and couldn’t wait to tangle with the chip man. With the blinds now at $1,000-$2,000 with a $300 ante, I raised to $5,000 from first position with the 7
4
. I know, I know, the books tell you to fold those hands. I guess I should read one of them, eventually. Or, better yet, when I write one, I’ll explain to you why these types of hands do very well in deep-stack tournaments. Guys like Alan Goehring, Gus Hansen, Phil Ivey, and the like don’t play these hands because they are bored; they play them because there is method to the madness.
I was a little surprised to get five-way action, as my previous table was a little more snug than that. The chip man was the first caller and I can honestly say I had absolutely no idea what he had or could have. I had no clue whatsoever.
When the flop came Q
6
5
, I didn’t really care any more what anybody had! That was a monster flop for my hand. My hand was big enough to play a huge pot against anyone other than the chip man. I bet $14,000, which committed me against the other players but not the chip man. So, who decided to raise me? Well, the chip man, of course. He called my $14,000 and raised an additional $21,000, for a total of $35,000.
With three players yet to act behind him, my instincts told me that he must have a made hand versus a draw. If he had a draw, he’d let others in, but his raise signaled me that he had at least a pair of queens.
Everyone folded back to me, and it was decision time: Should I go ahead and reraise him now and hope he folds a queen, or should I play it carefully and see the turn card for $21,000 more? I opted for the call.
I didn’t know if this guy would fold a queen. Based on the way his chips were stacked and the way he handled them, it didn’t seem like he was getting away from many hands. My gut told me he was a gambler, and I’d get him if I was lucky enough to hit my draw.
The turn card was the 9
. There it was, my flush card — my beautiful flush card. So, now what? I didn’t know. I really didn’t. Should I bet and protect my hand, or check and see what he did? Again, I opted to check and see what he did.
He went all in. Oh, great, that doesn’t help me. I still don’t know what to do! Thoughts of Paris went off in my head. In Paris, I was the chip leader with seven players left and finished seventh when my 7-4 got rivered.
I just didn’t know. The chip man looked awfully confident, and I still had $100,000 in chips, which was still great. Finally, I realized that he couldn’t have a flush. Why? Well, there were two reasons:
1. His raise on the flop seemed more like top pair than a flush draw.
2. He may not have moved all in if he had the nuts.
My whole tournament was on the line, but finally I said, “I call. If you have a flush, you got me.”
“No, flush is good.” Sweet! The chip man turned over 8-7 offsuit for a straight, and was drawing stone-cold dead.
So, once again I read the hand perfectly. OK, so I didn’t read the hand right at all, but I got the chips — so there! I find it ironic, really, this hand and my key hand from day one. On day one, I was certain my opponent couldn’t have a 4, and on day two, I was certain my opponent couldn’t have a draw.
Both times, I was in there with a straight and a flush draw; both times, I hit my hand; and both times, my logic happened to be way off! I’m hoping that this message is comforting to you. Nobody’s perfect, and nobody makes the right moves all the time.
It’s a lot like golf. The best golfer in the world doesn’t hit every shot perfectly. The difference between the best golfers in the world and the average golfers in the world is that when the great golfers miss, they don’t miss by much. OK, that’s a bad analogy, but it sure sounded good, didn’t it?
Seriously, though, you can make all the reads you want, but sometimes you are going to be shocked and surprised, as I was in those two key hands. I was lucky to win both of them, but my read on each situation, while logical, was simply wrong.
Near the end of day two, I took some serious hits. I don’t like listening to bad-beat stories, so I’m not about to share them here with you. Let’s just say that my chip count at the end of day two was rather disappointing. I ended the day with $3,500 less than I had started the day with. I had $108,000, which was good for 21st out of 27 remaining players.
At the top of the list were some real heavy hitters. Phil Ivey led the way with $598,000, and David Williams and Alan Goehring were right on his heels. In my next column, more bad reads by Negreanu!
Daniel Negreanu Card Player.com
So, I did what you’re supposed to do: I slowed down a little bit — just a little bit, mind you. I’m no pushover with chips or without! You might be able to bully the guy on Page 20 off a pair of queens, but I’m not about to back down from a war. Sure, I’d rather avoid one if possible, but when your chip count drops below par, sometimes you have to take some risks.
Anyway, I picked up Q-Q and was back in action! Winning a big pot against 10-10, I was back over $100,000 again and feeling frisky. Just then, I got moved to a new table with new surroundings.
A player three to my left had a mountain of chips that was an absurd amount at that stage of the tournament. He was the only one at the table with more than my approximate $140,000.
As I said, I was feeling frisky once again and couldn’t wait to tangle with the chip man. With the blinds now at $1,000-$2,000 with a $300 ante, I raised to $5,000 from first position with the 7
I was a little surprised to get five-way action, as my previous table was a little more snug than that. The chip man was the first caller and I can honestly say I had absolutely no idea what he had or could have. I had no clue whatsoever.
When the flop came Q
With three players yet to act behind him, my instincts told me that he must have a made hand versus a draw. If he had a draw, he’d let others in, but his raise signaled me that he had at least a pair of queens.
Everyone folded back to me, and it was decision time: Should I go ahead and reraise him now and hope he folds a queen, or should I play it carefully and see the turn card for $21,000 more? I opted for the call.
I didn’t know if this guy would fold a queen. Based on the way his chips were stacked and the way he handled them, it didn’t seem like he was getting away from many hands. My gut told me he was a gambler, and I’d get him if I was lucky enough to hit my draw.
The turn card was the 9
He went all in. Oh, great, that doesn’t help me. I still don’t know what to do! Thoughts of Paris went off in my head. In Paris, I was the chip leader with seven players left and finished seventh when my 7-4 got rivered.
I just didn’t know. The chip man looked awfully confident, and I still had $100,000 in chips, which was still great. Finally, I realized that he couldn’t have a flush. Why? Well, there were two reasons:
1. His raise on the flop seemed more like top pair than a flush draw.
2. He may not have moved all in if he had the nuts.
My whole tournament was on the line, but finally I said, “I call. If you have a flush, you got me.”
“No, flush is good.” Sweet! The chip man turned over 8-7 offsuit for a straight, and was drawing stone-cold dead.
So, once again I read the hand perfectly. OK, so I didn’t read the hand right at all, but I got the chips — so there! I find it ironic, really, this hand and my key hand from day one. On day one, I was certain my opponent couldn’t have a 4, and on day two, I was certain my opponent couldn’t have a draw.
Both times, I was in there with a straight and a flush draw; both times, I hit my hand; and both times, my logic happened to be way off! I’m hoping that this message is comforting to you. Nobody’s perfect, and nobody makes the right moves all the time.
It’s a lot like golf. The best golfer in the world doesn’t hit every shot perfectly. The difference between the best golfers in the world and the average golfers in the world is that when the great golfers miss, they don’t miss by much. OK, that’s a bad analogy, but it sure sounded good, didn’t it?
Seriously, though, you can make all the reads you want, but sometimes you are going to be shocked and surprised, as I was in those two key hands. I was lucky to win both of them, but my read on each situation, while logical, was simply wrong.
Near the end of day two, I took some serious hits. I don’t like listening to bad-beat stories, so I’m not about to share them here with you. Let’s just say that my chip count at the end of day two was rather disappointing. I ended the day with $3,500 less than I had started the day with. I had $108,000, which was good for 21st out of 27 remaining players.
At the top of the list were some real heavy hitters. Phil Ivey led the way with $598,000, and David Williams and Alan Goehring were right on his heels. In my next column, more bad reads by Negreanu!
Daniel Negreanu Card Player.com
