This week marks the 25th anniversary of Stu Ungar’s third World Series of Poker championship.
Ungar was one of only two players in history to win poker’s world championship three times, a feat unlikely to ever happen again. Ungar’s 1997 victory against all odds was the crowning achievement of a legendary career as a professional card player and the final moment of glory in a deeply-troubled life that ended just 17 months later at age 45.
I took several photographs during that series, even though I’m a terrible photographer and we didn’t have smartphones back then (I later wrote a book on Ungar).
Most of my extensive collection of poker photos–and old programs–and WSOP stuff–and assorted poker memorabilia packed into boxes and file cabinets was trashed into a dumpster a few years ago, but the following photos surfaced inside a lost folder while I held a garage sale last weekend.
Most of these photos have never been published before:
TEMPORARY TOURNAMENT ROOM
This might seem like an odd photo to begin this series, but I wanted to show the makeshift “Tournament Room” for the 1997 WSOP. It was essentially a converted valet parking area. The series had expanded in attendance and the outdated Horseshoe casino simply couldn’t handle the heavy traffic. So, casino owner Jack Binion set up a temporary air-conditioned poker room at the front entrance next to the street. Here’s one of the final tables for a preliminary gold bracelet event. Erik Seidel, John Spadavechia, and Brad Daugherty are easy to identify.
MR. TELEVISION
Yes, that’s Milton Berle, a.k.a. “Mr. Television.” Berle was invited to play in the press and celebrity event the Sunday before the Main Event began on Monday. He was well into his 80s then, but could still turn on the charm. I took this shot afterward when Berle went out onto Fremont Street and was swarmed by tourists. Standing next to him is character actor Richard Moll, best known for the TV series Night Court.
YOU DON’T MESS AROUND WITH SLIM
“Amarillo Slim” Preston was equally despicable as he was hilarious. Serially untrustworthy, he was also a riot to hang out with. His gift for gab was unmatched. None of his thousands of witticisms were an act. He was exactly who he appeared to be — taller and larger than life, profane, offensive, misogynistic, and from a media point of view (me) a gem of a good story. I later got to know Slim much better (read my former literary agent Greg Dinkin’s excellent bio) and viewed him with a mix of emotions, mostly sadness. Someone took this photo with Slim and me that year.
AN ACCIDENTAL MOMENT (THE BEST POKER PHOTO I’VE EVER TAKEN)
This photo requires a backstory. The night before the championship finale, around 9 pm, I was inside the gift ship. To my surprise, in walks Stu Ungar. Alone. Ungar was dressed in a wrinkled shirt and wanted a coat. Binion’s Horseshoe was always kept icy cold, even in the warmer months. So, you often saw people wearing jackets, especially inside the poker room. Ungar didn’t have a dollar to his name. He was flat broke. He’d been staked that year and his backers (make that his backer–Billy Baxter) wouldn’t give him a dime. Probably the right decision since everyone feared Ungar would dart out, use the money for drugs, and might not show up the next day (which he infamously did in the 1990 Main Event — a no-show at the final table — the only time this happened in history).
So Ungar ripped a coat off the rack, didn’t even bother to look at the size, and tells the shopkeeper (who didn’t have a clue who he was) to, “charge it to Jack.” Then, he bolts out the door.
I had to see where this was going, or rather see where Ungar was heading. I followed him down the stairs and into the poker room into the high-limit cash game section. They didn’t allow photography in cash games back then, but I decided to do a guerilla shot. Ungar walked up behind Chip Reese who was crushing a monster game. Next to him was Puggy Pearson. Ungar’s appearance shocked everybody inside the room. I’ve rarely seen action come to a stop at several tables, but that’s what exactly happened as Ungar basked in the glow of the chip lead with 6 players left. You can also see Marsha Wagonner there standing behind Ungar.
My original photos from that table at that moment were thrown away, but I snapped this one from my book. This is one of the rare moments that I was glad to capture by being at the right place at the right time, then being lucky enough to have some film and start shooting while apparently everyone was mesmerized by Stuey being in the room.
THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT
The WSOP final table was played outdoors that year, the only time that ever took place. Fremont Street Experience (canopy) had been completed a few months earlier, so it was thought (mistakenly) that holding a poker tournament outside was a good idea. Bad idea. It was blisteringly hot outside. Worse, wind gusts of 25-30 mph blew the cards across the table. A few flops were disrupted when the wind caught cards and blew them out of line. Tournament Director Jack McClelland came up with a great solution when a clear slate of plexiglass was placed atop the flop. So, some of the hands had the plexiglass atop the cards.
The final table area was terrible from a spectator’s perspective. Steel bleachers, wind, heat, and the inability to see the card or understand much of the action made this a torturous experience. But it did look good on television. Fortunately, the final table clocked in at a record 3 hours (I believe), making it the shortest finale in history. So, we didn’t have to endure the conditions for very long.
Here’s a much better shot I took of the final table area some time earlier, which shows TV monitors overhead. Too bad nobody could see anything and follow the action because of the sun’s glare.
KAPLAN AND ALBRECHT
ESPN’s announcing team that year included Gabe Kaplan, the comedian best known from Welcome Back Kotter fame. Kaplan has been a dedicated and respected poker player for 50 years. I believe this was his first year to announce any poker event. He’s always been outstanding and has given the game so much just by being a part of it. Joining him as was an annual television tradition was the late Jim Albrecht, the former Poker Room Manager at the Horseshoe.
Here’s Gabe Kaplan and Jim Albrecht giving some pointers about coverage to the 6 finalists. We see John Strzemp with his back to us, and Ungar off to the right.
LARRY GROSSMAN
I’m really glad I found this photo. In poker photography, there are a few names that are icons. Ulvis Alberts was the first who covered the World Series of Poker in the 1970s and 1980s, then Larry Grossman (pictured here), then Eric Harkins, and after that Joe Giron became the lens of the game. Larry did so much in the Las Vegas gambling scene. I snapped this at tableside — Grossman deserves far more recognition for his contributions.
TOM SIMS
Tom Sims wrote some astounding reports direct from the bowels of the WSOP that year. His best stuff was the behind-the-scenes stories in the weeks leading up to the Main Event when satellites were run late at night over at the Union Plaza, there was a strip club next door, and the pawnshops were open 24/7 and you could fetch a gold bracelet cheaper and with less hassle, if you wanted one bad enough. The whole of downtown Las Vegas was a giant poker hangout. Sims’ writings really captured all the fun, the desperation, and all-too-often the degeneracy of those times. The game no longer receives this kind of narrative coverage, which I think hurts its legacy. There are moments that simply don’t come through a television camera. It’s a glaring void. You have to be there to feel it, see it, smell it, hear it, and experience it. Sims did that, and taught me a lot about crafting a compelling narrative.
I snapped this picture of Sims on the front row. Behind him, you can spot Linda Johnson (then the Editor of Card Player), Susie Isaacs, Steve Radulovich, and behind them — is that you Phyllis Meyers?
RON STANLEY IN A TUXEDO
One of the finalists in 1997 was Ron Stanley. He showed up on the 95-degree day during midafternoon dressed in a full black tuxedo. I always admired Stanley for that decision, though some later criticized it. Stanley recognized this was the game’s biggest stage and that he was representing something more than himself. I took this photo as Stanley was being mic’d up by one of the ESPN staffers.
STU UNGAR
When Ungar showed up in what appeared to be championship form, the final outcome may have already been decided. Nobody, short of a wicked deck and some bad beats, could have defeated Ungar at that moment. It was a positive sign to see Ungar couldn’t wait to begin. He was the first player to take his seat and was even fidgety about the repeated delays.
As things often go with television production, the final table was late getting started. But nothing threw Ungar off his game. Here are a few photos of various stages during play.
Before the final table play begins, all the players are introduced. Here’s Stu Ungar’s moment when he waves to the crowd. Everyone knew Ungar was the man to beat, but he wasn’t particularly well-liked or popular. He had no cheering section. No family was present. In fact, Ungar’s ovation was considerably less than the other players. Of course, none of this mattered to Stuey who came to win a third world championship that day.
During a break, Ungar says hello. I honestly don’t remember our conversation at this moment, but it was like he just knew he was going to win. Like it was a “done deal.” Final destiny. Temporary salvation. Over the next few months of his life we became much closer and I’ve written some of those stories elsewhere about his extraordinary fall from the heights of glory. I think the lesson at this snapshot freeze frame instant as we look into Ungar’s concealed cool is simple — enjoy the moment We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
I love this photo taken when play was three-handed. It shows Ungar’s intensity and reveals why he was so intimidating when he was on top of his game. No disrespect to the others, but his opponents were trapped like prey. Mel Judah finished third that year. And casino executive John Strzemp (Steve Wynn‘s CFO) enjoys his cigarette en route to a runner-up finish. Smoking in poker major tournaments was banned five years later.
Note: You can also see the plexiglass atop the flop cards in the middle of the table.
ALL GLORY IS FLEETING
This is the final shot on the roll of film. Two legends. Casino patriarch Jack Binion poses with Ungar in front of the million-dollar prize, bundles of money that would soon vanish, toasting the moment with champagne that wasn’t drunk nor enjoyed (Ungar didn’t drink alcohol), temporarily satisfied with his most-memorable victory but soon to be plagued by creeping boredom sure to return and overwhelm the skills and wisdom and better judgments made on that victorious day.
Final Thought: I hope you enjoyed this expose. I thought it was important to remember this moment in history, 25 years ago today.
IF YOU ENJOYED THIS STORY, READ MORE:
Did the 2007 Academy Awards Kill the Stu Ungar Movie?