In the beginning, there was just Nick "The Greek" Dandalos and Johnny Moss, staring holes through each other's cards for five months, breaking only for the minimum amount of bodily maintenance.
That was 1949, and a small crowd inevitably would gather round to take in "the biggest game in town." Benny Binion's place downtown, the Horseshoe, was humming. The man who left Dallas one step ahead of the posse knew all about good business practices, too. This high-stakes match he had arranged was great publicity; and publicity always was good for the casino drop.
Twenty-one years after Moss forced surrender from The Greek ? whose brave parting words, "Mr. Moss, I have to let you go," are chiseled into the foundation of the World Series of Poker ? the game got organized. Binion would take the idea of a poker world series and franchise it as his own. Behind a highly flammable game called no-limit Texas hold 'em, Binion and his casino would take poker out of the back room and move it to the parlor.
In 1970, Binion invited a few of the best poker players he knew, Texans mostly, tough as tumbleweed, to his tables for the first official world series. The champion was elected by his peers and awarded a trophy at the conclusion.
Today the action has moved to flashier digs near the Las Vegas Strip ? the Rio Hotel and Casino. In the main event, starting this afternoon, nearly 8,000 players have put up $10,000 to buy their way into the action, or otherwise have been staked by winning any number of Internet or satellite tournaments. They'll play down to one victor, who stands to claim $10 million or so.
ESPN is again there to chronicle the action, after which the "sports" network will edit thousands of hands down to the most dramatic moments leading up to the final showdown. The new programming begins Aug. 22, eventually peaking with the final table of the main event. Those who can't wait can pay $24.95 for live look-ins on the final table Aug. 10. From a Texas two-step to poker pay-per-view, the game has mutated wildly.
There is no excuse to miss any of it. Poker programming is repeated more than "Seinfeld." Throw your remote against the wall, and whatever channel pops up on the television, the odds are 5-to-1 someone's poker show will be on it.
This particular one ain't the Rat Pack's poker tournament anymore. "You'd go outside the room at Binion's where they played the tournament [a converted bingo room] and they'd be selling cheap jewelry and watches. It was very old Vegas. Very Runyonesque. Now they have a Poker Lifestyle Expo [a four-day convention] attached to the event," said David Swartz, the director for the Center for Gaming Research at UNLV. In October he is releasing a history of gambling from the caves to the Rio ballroom entitled "Roll the Bones."
The World Series of Poker sprouts from incredibly tangled roots. That slick product you see on TV is the spawn of rough men making a living off their wits. Chart this World Series' growth by its characters. Here are five who contributed to the making of a poker tournament/cultural benchmark.
? Benny Binion: A bigger-than-life Texan whose career, like the beginnings of the city he relocated to, was steeped in violence. He was a one-time bootlegger and numbers runner who killed at least two men in Dallas, claiming self-defense. One son was killed ? his stripper girlfriend and her lover tried, re-tried and acquitted. His Horseshoe casino was famous for accepting any bet, no matter the size. Binion died in 1989 at age 85.
? Johnny Moss: "He was one of the biggest gamblers in America for 30 or 40 years," Schwartz said. "The classic Texas road gambler, the type who owned the World Series in the beginning." Moss won three of the first five main events. His breed is vanishing. Doyle Brunson, the champion in 1976 and '77, is one of the few surviving players of the rollicking Texas ilk. Brunson is best known for his revered poker book "Super System" and his cowboy stoicism.
? Thomas Austin "Amarillo Slim" Preston Jr.: Winner of the 1972 main event, he popularized poker in those early days through the power of his folksy personality (11 appearances on the Tonight Show). "If you can't spot the sucker within the first half hour at the table," he said, "then you are the sucker."
He is 77 and largely off the radar since his indictment in 2003 on charges of indecency with his 12-year-old granddaughter. In a reported plea bargain, the charges were reduced to misdemeanor assault.
? Stu Ungar: Poker's Bobby Fisher, only with more demons. He was a card playing genius who won three main events (1980, 1981, 1997). He won and squandered fortunes like other people changed clothes. His personal life a shambles, his frail body wasting away under the strain of drug and alcohol abuse, Unger died flat busted in late '97 at the age of 43. "The poster child for what not to do in poker," said Joe Conner, a poker pro from Roswell.
? Chris Moneymaker: Perfect name, perfect background for the new age of poker. Moneymaker became the first to advance from the depths of the internet and a $39 investment in a fringe tournament to win the 2003 Main Event and $2.5 million. "A very symbolic victory. That was when it all really changed, when it really started to take off," Schwartz said.
* Jack - Madjack Perfect name here also, and a darkhorse to go far in the tournament this year.
Jack states he has been playing poker for a long
time and inside sources say he may be in a position
to go to the final table in 2006. Alot of internet type people rooting for him, may just be enough
to put him in the money this year.
Just think, 1973 winner Puggy Pearson didn't make the cut in this list, and he once claimed to have the secret to anti-gravity.
They don't make poker players like they used to. The next in the series of champions has much to live up to, or down to, according to one's perspective.
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