I often wonder if the current World Series of Poker Champion knows who Johnny Moss was or his import on the modern game of poker. To refresh your history, please read Al Alverez' The Biggest Game in Town
http://www.amazon.com/Biggest-Game-Town-Al-Alvarez/dp/0312428421/ref=sr_tc_2_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1297381203&sr=1-2-ent
for an idea of Vegas before the mega-casinos. Alvarez' book, serialized in part in 2 issues of the New Yorker (!) in 1982, inspired me to play local poker tournaments in Northern California and then venture to the WSOP in 1989 for a first time.
I was a lowball player, as that was the only poker (along with 5 card draw) allowed in California in the 1980's. At that time the WSOP had about 20 events, and regularly would draw in the California lowball players by scheduling a $1500 Ace-to-Five (with joker) tournament on Kentucky Derby day. Attendance was pretty good at that time - almost 200 for the 89 event, almost as many as entered the main event that year.
I came to Vegas the day before the event to get a feeling of Binion's and the action around the tournament area and was totally overwhelmed. Just the sound of all those chips clacking throughout the 50 or so tables on the casino floor was deafening. Twenty or more tables were taken by the day's tournament; the rest dedicated to ring games & a smaller area with maybe 6 tables devoted to one table satellites for the next day's event.
I just watched. It was a lot to take in, and I didn't want to miss a thing. I signed up & paid for the next day's tournament & circulated among the tables. I recognized a few players I knew from California and kept pretty much a low key image.
I was up early the next morning - didn't sleep much or very well - and headed for the coffee shop downstairs to get reoriented. When I got into the elevator was when I first saw the lizard eyes of Johnny Moss. We were the only ones in the elevator. It wasn't his face, posture or age that told me something about all the poker hands he'd seen, but his eyes.
His look went through me: heavy-lidded, revealing nothing. He was in his 80's at that time and had won the lowball event the year before. I kindly nodded to him and went on my way when we reached the casino floor. But I could never forget his look - like a snake about to coil. Unrepentant. Poised.
I didn't do anything great that year: finished about 100th of 200, but wasn't discouraged. I was in Vegas the next year at the WSOP & met Mr. Moss. He was playing a limit Omaha hi-lo tournament and signing copies of his book, "Champion of Champions"
http://www.amazon.com/Champion-Champions-Johnny-Moss-Don-Jenkins/dp/B001D76F3A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1297382969&sr=1-1 which his wife was selling. I respectfully waited for a break and had him autograph the book. "Play draw, Greg, that's the game for you", and promptly signed my copy of his book.
Over the next few years I returned to Binions and the WSOP, and Mr. Moss was still a fixture. Maybe he was a dottering old man to some; someone's grandfather in polyester out for a good time; or maybe, seemingly just one of the old pensioners playing out his Social Security money before month's end. But every poker player at any event at Binion's at one time or other ran into Mr. Moss and his stare. He may have been old, but he still had a spark of life in him
In 1991 I played with him for about an hour during the Hall of Fame lowball event and had the chance to play a hand against him. I opened with a great draw: Ace, two, three, five,X and opened the pot for a raise. He was in the big blind and everyone passed. He reraised me to $300 (we were probably playing 100-200 at the time). I shuddered and called. No cards said Mr. Moss; "I'll take 1 please". He checked, and I looked at the Jack I drew. "Jack", I said with an audible sigh. He opened up his hand and it was a worse Jack - like Jack, 10, 9, 8 5. I won the pot. I beat Johnny Moss in a pot!! I promptly stood up and bowed towards him. "Thank you Mr. Moss."
