#459 - WSOP Notebook #32 - My Day 1-A Recap, Part I - The Show Before the Show

My “First” World Series of Poker

As I walked into the Rio at about 11 o’clock, I thought about my first in-person memory of The World Series of Poker. I had read Al Alvarez’s book, The Biggest Game in Town, and was intrigued by poker and the World Series, but very much from afar. I had still never played the game, but very much wanted to learn.

I was checking into the Golden Nugget in May 1989 or 1990 - I don’t remember which. As I waited to check in, a tall robust man was in front of me checking out. His room charges were a dozen pages, and he paid from a giant roll of hundred-dollar bills.

I don’t know how or why, but I knew this was Jay Heimowitz, a New York Budweiser distributor, who was part of a growing contingent of New Yorkers playing poker on a par with Texans (now Las Vegans) at the World Series of Poker. Because this was my one and only brush with the Main Event, I asked, “ So who won?”

He said, “It’s still going on.”

“How did it work out for you?”

“Not so good in the Main Event, but overall … it was a good trip.”

We nodded at each other and he left, going back to New York where, no doubt, he continued to regularly play poker and backgammon with a group of men like Howard Lederer, Erik Seidel, Dan Harrington, and Steve Zolotow, who would befriend me in about 15 years and enrich my life in ways I could never have imagined.

It’s funny what you remember and when.
With Friends Like These

When I was sitting next to Andy Black in the last $1,500 No Limit Hold ‘Em Saturday event, another player, a friend or acquaintance, came by to ask Black how the Series was going.

Andy smiled and said, “I’m down about $200,000, but otherwise it’s going fine.”

“You playing the cash games?”

“Nope. Losing too much in the tournaments to have time for cash games.”

The guy then says, “I just signed up for the $1,500 HORSE. You playing that one?”

“Not if I’m in the $10,000 PLO. You’re not playing the PLO?”

“No … not unless you want to put me in it. I’ll let you free-roll me for a 70% share.”

“No thanks. I’m stuck too much for that.”

“I’m a sure thing, I’m way up this Series and I cashed in the 10K PLO last year.”

“No thanks.”

“Okay your loss. Just trying to give you a chance to get a piece.”
Mr. Vegas

I go to the VIP suite to wait for the tournament to start. It’s deserted, until Wayne Newton enters with three women and a handler from the Rio at 11:30. Newton is so tan that he makes George Hamilton look like a ghost and his hair looks like a batting helmet.

Ty Stewart, Jeffrey Pollack, and Angele Marshall go through how the Wayne Newton bit will work along with Wayne and the people with him. When Ty and Jeffrey leave, I joke with each of them about how they didn’t have to go through the trouble of coming by the VIP Suite just for me on my first day of the Main Event.

I followed Stewart for the last day of the Main Event of WSOP Europe last September, a fascinating experience I only partially described. He said, “It’s a shame you’re not following me today because I’m having a great time.”

Jeffrey Pollack, who never takes his eye off the ball, said, “I hope this makes it into the blog.”