AQ offsuit, out of position

Sometimes you get dealt a great looking hand. But in reality, it almost never works out to your benefit. You’ll often three bet it strong, because in your head, you know that’s the right thing to do. Everyone tells you that it’s a great hand. You appear confident, you sit straight up in your chair and look forward into your opponent’s eyes, knowing that you are ahead. But then a flop comes of ten, eight, and a three, all of the same suit. You double check your hand – nope, that suit is not one of yours. It’s your turn to bet. You can’t show weakness now. You lead out – you have to fake it until you make it. Don’t let your opponent know that you have any doubt. After all, you are the one that got dealt the great hand. You deserve this pot. So you bet and chase, but the turn brings nothing. You bet and chase again, but the river brings nothing. You lead out a third time, this time really exposing yourself, so much of yourself on the line, when you know it’s all a sham. You know that your opponent sees right through you. Hell, the whole table sees right through you. They all know you have nothing. But you don’t care, because damn it, you were the one that got dealt the best starting hand. You deserved this pot. You get called. It’s only the third blind level of a two-day tourney, but you just blew the entire thing because, in that moment, right then, you couldn’t let yourself see the truth. You couldn’t admit that someone weaker than you had won.

This isn’t about poker.

Pocket 77’s, in middle position

Slot machine! You slyly limp, hoping to disguise this secret. No one will know! Once I flop a 7, they will all be toast. “I’m going to get it all!”, you say to yourself. You remember the last time you flopped a set, how good it felt to take a pot off that bully at the table when he flopped top pair and kept betting into you. You tense up just a little, hoping no one notices. “Please, please, please flop a 7. I deserve this! I’ve grinded for the last hour. Fold after fold after fold. This is finally my moment!” In your mind, you see a slot machine hitting a jackpot. You can almost feel your hands raking in the chips from a massive pot. The flop comes…an ace, a ten, a jack. Ok, Ok, but I can still turn a seven. You check, but you face a bet. Two more cards to come – this is going to happen! They don’t know what I have. They don’t know how hard I’ve been working, the late nights I’ve spent studying the game, the time I have put in. You call, knowing the odds are getting longer. You start getting more desperate, and you can feel your heart racing a little when the nine hits the turn. “Now I have a gut shot straight draw! They’ll really never see that one coming!” And it comes! You bomb the river. But just as your opponent is considering a call – you look again. You were blinded. You were so focused on what you had accomplished, you didn’t even notice that there’s a flush out there now, and all your opponent needs is a Q for a better straight anyway. Just like that – it’s over. Your secret is exposed.

This isn’t about poker.

QQ, on the button

Bingo – the ladies, and there’s a raise in front of you. You don’t have to guess what your opponent is going to do this time – you have position. Not only were you dealt a premium hand, but you are going to control every street of action as the last person to act. You get to patiently watch their every move, and only then will you be forced to take an action. You get to control the narrative. So what if an ace hits the flop? You’ll be able to tell if your opponent has an ace in their hand because of all the work you’ve done on physical tells. You’ll let them trap themselves, flat calling the whole way, just waiting to put the hammer down on the river. They check the river, confused by what you might have. So, you fire away. But when you do, you don’t seem as confident as you should. You are wavering. You tighten up and your mouth gets dry. You are unsure of yourself. You know you likely have the best hand, but doubt creeps in. What if they really do have an ace? What if you misread things the entire time? You double check, just to make sure you do in fact have QQ, and your opponent senses this weakness. They raise to put you all in. You fold and show – looking to your opponent for validation. They show you the bluff.

This isn’t about poker.

9-7 suited, in the blinds

You’ve had a long day grinding. The money bubble just burst – at least you’re guaranteed something. You’ve worked and worked, picking up small pots here and there. You are far from the chip lead, but at least you are still in the tournament. You still have a chance at glory, if only luck can start to turn in your favor. You have never once stepped out of line. Every time you raised, you had it. You’re feeling tired and weary. However, you are able to see the flop cheap, so you call. The flop brings some hope – a ten, an eight, and an ace, all different suits – the perfect action flop for you. You perk up, thinking maybe this is the opportunity you’ve been waiting on. Before you check, you meticulously plan every action. You know what to do on the turn and river if your card comes. You know the chip stacks; you’ve calculated the odds. And you stick to the plan. But the card never comes. You bluff the river, but it’s an easy call by your opponent. You walk away from the table wondering if it was all worth it for that min cash, or if you should have just shoved pocket tens two hours ago.

This isn’t about poker.

Sometimes even the best starting hands aren’t winners. Sometimes you get unlucky. Sometimes you lie to yourself and bluff, even when you know that you are likely to lose. Sometimes you simply get it wrong. And it hurts. Failure has a way of shining the light on truth. You then have two options – either accept that truth and keep moving forward, or ignore it, and continue losing. I hope I can find a way to see the truth that is revealed through the losses.

This isn’t about poker.

Although, sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference.

Colton