In the May 6, 1994, issue of Card Player, I discussed the 15th-century Machiavellian concept of whether it is better to be feared or to be loved – as it applies to one's poker image. My conclusion then, and now, is that in hold'em, it is better to be feared, but in Omaha (and Omaha high-low), it is better to be loved.
In other words, the optimum hold'em strategy (which usually wins about one limit bet per hour) is to play only good hands (they will fear calling you), and thus you can steal your share of the many pots in which no one has much. But in Omaha (including high-low), where you usually need the best hand to win, you make extra money if you are perceived as being loose (and they will love calling you).
Accordingly, I usually strive to project a loose "callable" image in Omaha and Omaha high-low. However, sometimes when I first get into a loose Omaha high-low game, it appears that I am playing tight because I am rather selective as to which starting hands I play (for more on these topics, see my new book Winning Strategies at Omaha High-Low, Cardoza Publishing, New York).
During the Ho-Ho Hold'em tournament at The Bicycle Casino, I took a seat in a lively side game of $6-$12 Omaha high-low with a kill. I proceeded to pick up no playable (by my standards) starting hands for the first half-hour or so, and I also folded most of my blind hands before or on the flop.
Finally, I picked up an A-2-5-7 hand and called from middle position (I would have raised from late position). With seven-way action, the flop came J-8-7 offsuit. Six of the seven players called a bet and a raise after the flop.
The turn card was a 5, giving me the nut low (with my A-2) and two pair. The next two rounds of betting were capped out with four-way action. I never raised, thinking that I was surely getting quartered. At the showdown, there were two nut straights that split high, I won low, and the player on my left lost big with his A-3. Then, with contempt in his eyes, he made a key comment: "I shoulda known that you would only play an A-2!"
Several other players seemed to notice his comment and I could almost feel their wheels turning. I decided it was time to really loosen up on the next hand I played. Several hands later on my big blind, I picked up the Q
6 7
2. The player on my left raised before the flop, as he had done several times before. The were five callers around to me.
Although I would normally consider this hand to be a clear fold (note that low suited cards are often an expensive trap, especially when there are several preflop callers), I called the raise. With six-way action, the flop was an unimpressive 10 5
3. I checked, the preflop raiser bet, and there were two calls and two folds around to me. Could I possibly call with this mess?
A 4 was my only good card (for the nut straight and a 6-2 low). An ace would give me the second-best low. And I had several "backdoor" prospects. Clearly, it was basically a bad call – but I called.
The turn card was the J – not a good card for me, although it did give me a low diamond flush draw. I finally had had enough and was ready to fold – but nobody bet. I thought to myself, who knows, a junk flush might win this pot. I rooted for a diamond.
The last card was yet another jack. So, I had absolutely nothing. But, no one bet. Maybe no one had anything. Instinctively, I pushed $12 into the pot. The player on my left, who had done all of the betting to this point and was the one who had made the comment about my tightness, threw his hand into the muck, exclaiming, "Nice hand." There was something about the way he said it that indicated he was sure that I had a nice hand. I was not that surprised when the other two players folded quickly in turn. Note that the best time to bluff in Omaha high-low is when there is no low on the board.
If anyone had called me, I had preprogrammed myself to say, "You win, I was bluffing," and would have chalked it up to my advertising budget. But, no one called, so I won a nice little pot. The player on my left asked, "What'd'ya have – four johnnies?" I looked at him and silently nodded my head. "I knew it!" he said. This is not good, I thought to myself. I want to be loved, so that people will call me, but now they fear me!
Several hands later, I played an A-3-4-Q. The flop came with three high cards, including a queen. It was checked around to me, so I "drove" the hand with only my queens, betting after the flop and the turn. Then, with only one opponent left and no help on the river, I decided to bet again. My opponent thought a bit, then folded. He might have had me beat. Was I feared?
After playing for about two hours, I quit the game (to go play in a tournament). Although I had held very few good cards that session, I still managed to win more than $200. So, maybe it's not so bad to be feared in Omaha – especially when you're not holding many cards.