I know our title for this installment might be a little confusing, so allow me to explain: On three separate occasions in a recent Texas Holdem game I picked up 4-7 off-suit while straddling under the gun. All three times I got raised substantially with multiple players taking the flop; all three times I was unable to resist taking the flop with them; and all three times, as fate would have it, I flopped a gut-shot five draw to the nut straight.

In each hand it was like my fellow players were giving me a shot to catch the damn five. The action was brisk each time, but not prohibitive. And would you believe I kept catching the five; would you frickin’ believe I made every single one of those straights to beat pocket kings?!

The first time the flop came 3-6-J. One guy bet $100, I called it and I caught the five immediately. Shoving, I busted him out, making it look easier than a summertime stroll.

The second time, after I straddled to $6 a guy made it $20. We kind of got hung up in there, but then, another guy made it $60. Truth be told, I just didn’t know when to say when and called that too, four-handed. The flop came 3-6-10, Mr. Pre-flop $60 bet $120 and I deliberated ridiculously.

I must’ve gotten “foreign hand” syndrome because I had to take a peek before mysteriously seeing his $120. Despite this, though, and scary as it sounds, the five jumped off again and I was playing the nuts, stone cold.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” was my opponent’s impressively restrained response as he dusted and walked.

The third time was probably the best of all: I had straddled to $6, and a solid mademoiselle pro made it $20. Then, one guy cold-called it, and hey, I was hot with my 4-7 straddle plays, so I figured why not. I cold-called too, and the flop came 3-6-J. The mademoiselle made it $50, the guy between us (he had the pocket kings and hadn’t re-raised) called and I slithered once again.

The turn came a 7. So now I had a pair to go with my gut-shot draw—and all the outs that implies. With both my opponents presumably on healthy pairs I now figured my outs at nine and counting. The mademoiselle bet $100 very quickly and aggressively—a good, solid move—and, unbelievably, the tweener made another deliberate call. It was down to the wire, and I was still a nose behind. My holding hat slipped, and I insta-called.

“It’s you I’m worried about,” the tweener said staring at me.

“Don’t you trouble your pretty, little head,” I told him. “I’m out on another straddle limb.”

The river was a 5, spiking my gut shot, and I moved all-in almost simultaneously with the five hitting the board. The mademoiselle insta-folded smartly. Then came a terribly slow, agony-filled all-in call from Pocket Kings—who, it’s worth noting, could have blown me out of the pot at any time earlier, but hadn’t.

Right after the hand, no lie, I noticed a guy from my home-game days a few tables over and got up to say “hi.” He mentioned that he’d ridden to the casino with another guy and pointed to the 10 seat at my table. It was the guy with the cracked kings, victim of my latest 4-7 straddle hand.

“Oops,” I said, “I think he might be ready to go.”

Shortly after beating pocket kings with each of my 4-7 straddles, I’d picked up the kings myself, and was immediately suspicious that it was payback time. Sure enough they all got beat, and having minimized my losses, I still came out smelling like a St. Val’s bouquet.

If there’s a “moral” to this story–and don’t take the terminology too literally–I guess it’s that you have to be careful with pocket kings. Straddling is only a blessing when you suck out. So maybe the best advice I can give to my novice readers is this: Get a straddler the heck out of your pot as soon as you get the chance!

By: Dave Cinch
dave.cinch@acehoyle.com

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