Regrets
By: Gary Wise

In 1972, American President Richard Nixon was embroiled in Watergate allegations. The Price is Right and MASH debuted, the Vietnam War was in full swing, and a young American, Bobby Fisher, was in the midst of accomplishing the unthinkable, toppling the Russians from the top of the chess world. It was a time of revolution and change all over America, except for one small city in the desert.

Las Vegas was growing, but it was the same as it had always been; black ties and evening gowns and a shark at every corner. Benny Binion’s Horseshoe Casino was doing its usual trade, acting as a home away from home for wayward Texans looking for the occasional table not populated entirely by other Texans. Hold’em was undoubtedly their game; godfather Johnny Moss had won the first two World Series.

With a starting field of eight, Moss’s hopes of a third consecutive championship ended when a young Doyle Brunson took the majority of the old man’s chips. Standing from his seat, his coat pulled on, Doyle was ready to leave when he hit the one out he had in the deck, vaulting him from worst to first and leaving Moss a shell of his former self. The old man eventually went down in fifth, followed by Jack Strauss in fourth, leaving just three players: Brunson, Puggy Pearson and Amarillo Slim.

Puggy Pearson was a bear of a man. Broad, big, with a nose to match the name, gaudy mutton chops and a constant stogie, he was a tough man of tough breeding. Growing up poorer than poor in Tennessee, Puggy survived by fighting his way out, outsmarting everyone in everything. By the beginning of the 70s, Vegas belonged to the man whose supreme skill, will to win, and vicious streak made him the best seven-card player in town and one of the fiercest in every other game under the sun.

Preston, meanwhile, was the lovable conman. Coming from the tradition of Titanic Thompson and Minnesota Fats, Slim was always working an angle. A master of the grift, with a remarkable eye for opportunity, he knew that Pearson was worried about the tax issues that the $80,000 windfall for winning the tournament would bring. He also knew Brunson’s was a deeply religious family and the stigma of a title like Poker World Champion might not sit too well. The three removed themselves to discuss the situation.

When the meeting ended, Brunson begged off, explaining that stomach flu had left him less-than-enthusiastic about continuing the inevitable marathon. An agreement was made that Doyle would take his chips off the table and that he’d be allowed to cash them out. With Slim’s by far the smaller stack, the players realized a little showmanship would be required to give the railbirds and small contingent of assembled press the ending that would sate them.

The two started going through the motions, with Puggy folding at opportune moments in order to keep the thin Texan in the game. More than once, hands came about where Puggy could have had the championship had he chosen not to fold what he knew to be the winning hand. Still, the plan was in place; he could see no value in winning the championship, so he followed through. Slim didn’t make it too easy.

Every time Puggy folded the better hand, Slim would stand up, turn to the crowd and show off the masterful bluff he’d just pulled off, revealing unplayable hole cards. This was fairly consistent behavior and, because Binion wanted a finale with some legitimacy, Pearson held his tongue. Eventually, in a hand lost to time, Slim managed to get Pearson all-in and take the title.

Pearson had no regrets for the moment. He’d gotten his fairly large share of the purse, along with the satisfaction of knowing he’d have won if he’d chosen to, and his success wouldn’t be nearly as easy for the taxman to follow. Yes, he’d given away the mostly valueless title, but that wouldn’t mean much until Slim started exploiting his win.

While Moss had been content to wear his crown, Slim used his to make a huge public relations push. He started making the talk show rounds, eventually making it onto Johnny Carson’s The Tonight Show, the biggest talk show on television, where his smooth style and aw-shucks wit made him a fan favorite who’d be invited back over the years. The attention made him the most famous poker player in the world, status that provided more than a few endorsements and free meals over the year. Pearson could only grind his teeth and wonder, what if?

The answer would come a year later, when Pug defeated Moss in the finals to, at long last, take the title out of Texas. Still, Pug never got the attention he saw Amarillo get. This fact never sat well with him up until his death on April 12th, 2006. In order to save a few bucks on taxes, he’d given up The Tonight Show, and maybe more importantly, his name alongside Moss, Brunson, Ungar, and Chan – the men who won multiple championships.