No, not those Cowboys.
Pocket kings.
K-K.
The second most powerful starting hand in Texas hold ’em.
Sometimes called Cowboys.
So there I was in a live poker game playing my usual tight-aggressive (nitty) strategy when the fickle Gambling Gods pitched me two kings. I made a quick mental note that one was a spade and one was a heart, tucked them under a chip for protection — and raised.
The raise brought four or five callers — way too many in the perfect world. In the perfect world, you want one caller, ideally someone who has pocket queens. Or jacks. Or 10s. Or another smaller pair.
But rarely does poker mirror the perfect world. You can quote me.
But with the Cowboys safely tucked, the dealer burned a card and flipped up Qx-Jh-8h.
At first glance, not a bad looking flop. We might hook someone with A-Q or A-J. We are of course behind to someone with Q-J or any other two pair. Or a set. Or a straight.
It’s checked around to me and I proceed to bet the flop.
The bet is followed by two quick folds and then the big blind, a steady and improving local, proceeds to check-raise.
Damn.
There’s another fold and it’s back to me.
I stop to consider. I can still beat top pair and I have backdoor straight and flush draws. I call the raise and we go to the turn heads-up.
The dealer burns another card and turns up … the queen of hearts.
Playing with the queen of hearts
Knowing it ain’t really smart
The joker ain’t the only fool
Who’ll do anything for you
I ignore the little refrain rocking away in the back of my mind and concentrate on the board and the action. The check-raiser leads out again and I have a few thing to think about: What does he have? What does he think I have? What does he think that I think he has? How much is in the pot? And how many river cards do I have that will give me a shot at taking down this pot?
Damn, poker requires a lot of thinking.
I finally conclude that he has a straight. Less likely is a full house, queens full of jacks. I say less likely because his turn bet seemed someone tentative. He could, in fact, think that I have the full house.
If he does have the straight, I now have eight outs to a flush. Then I think again for a second — and I also have two unseen kings.
So I weigh the ten outs against the price of the bet, roughly consider the implied odds — or what I might win if I make my hand — and call.
One more time, the disinterested dealer burns and burns a card. And the river is … a king.
A lovely, beautiful king. I don’t remember the suit because it doesn’t matter. It was a king.
Giving me kings full, which while not the immortal nuts (which would be 10-9 of hearts), but the third nuts and a pretty powerful hand.
This time, the check-raiser slows down. He mutters to himself. And he checks.
And I know I’ve got him. He doesn’t have quad queens. He’s the got the straight, a feeble 10-9 played from the blind that caught a fortuitous flop but was rivered by a superior holding.
And I bet. And he mutters again to himself. But he calls.
And I flip up the cowboys, which when coordinated with the board makes a very nice-looking hand of kings full.
It takes the dealer a couple of sweeps to push me the pot, and I flip him a couple of chips back as a toke for hand nicely dealt.
The check raiser is still muttering.
“Chased me all the way to the river,” he’s saying to anyone who is listening, which is almost nobody at this point because the dealer is already grabbing a fresh deck out of the automatic shuffler for the next hand.
I’m tempted to point out that I did think what he had and what he thought I had and what he thought that I thought he had and that I did include the two unseen kings in my rough calculation of outs.
But I don’t. I dummy up and smile and stack the chips.
Poker does require a lot of thinking, but stacking the chips is easy.
