It Was 20 Years Ago Today

"The first time I played in the World Series, it was much easier for me. It was easier because I was an unknown entity. Later when I played in the World Series, I was expected to win. That puts a lot of pressure on you."

- Stu Ungar in an interview with

Nolan Dalla on Aug. 5, 1998

Stu Ungar's life would never be the same after May 21, 1981 – the day he won his second world championship. From that moment forward, his name invoked comparisons to the greatest gaming savants in history – Billy Eisenberg (bridge), Paul Magriel (backgammon), Ken Uston (blackjack), and Bobby Fischer (chess).

Just 27 years old at the time, he had mastered gambling's two most enigmatic card games, and his path to glory was blazed by bulldozing over once-proud contemporaries usually twice his age but who lacked his inherent capacity to dominate and humiliate opponents to the breaking point.

Ungar was one of a kind. Setting aside the deeper psychological issues, Ungar didn't just relish winning a hand, game, or tournament, he delighted in destroying anyone who seemed remotely capable of threatening his ephemeral visions of grandeur. Winning back-to-back titles, Ungar was on the verge of turning big-time poker tournaments into a mockery, just as he did playing gin rummy as a kid, when unbridled success made him an outcast. Summarily banned from Las Vegas' most prestigious gin tournaments in the late '70s, suddenly the question asked by everyone in gambling circles was, what would he do for an encore?

Witnessing Ungar in his prime, crouched over a poker table, conjured up the image of an impenetrable fortress. Breaking his facade took one of two things: supernatural talent or dumb luck. Ultimately, Stuey's fortress became a prison. He was addicted to action and chained to chance, worsened by a self-imposed exile away from the joys of living a full life. As secure as he was with himself at the card table, he was a depraved man-child away from it, inevitably doomed by the false tableau of invincibility.

On the eve of his induction into poker's Hall of Fame, and nearly 20 years to the day following arguably Stu Ungar's greatest professional triumph, let's take a look back at his second victory, at the 1981 World Series of Poker. It truly was one for the ages.

It takes boundless ambition to win a first World Series of Poker. It takes veritable greatness to win the second. Stu Ungar entered the 12th annual World Series of Poker prepared to defend his title. 1981 marked the first year that the four-day format was introduced. The extra day ensured that players would be rested and would get plenty of action at all levels, meaning the best players would have ample time to prove themselves and accumulate chips.

The $10,000 buy-in world championship event began with 75 entrants. Stuey struggled early. He faced elimination and was all in at least three times at his first table. Desperately low on chips midway through the first day, he managed to survive until the first break. He composed himself and clawed his way back to the $10,000 mark as play was set to resume on the second day.

Oddly enough in poker, the wisest play of all is sometimes the decision not to get involved with a hand. This was proven when Stuey struggled in the middle rounds of the tournament. With half the field already eliminated, he went on a brief rush and increased his chip count to $18,000 – just short of the average-sized stack. He failed to make further progress for the next several hours. At the same time, he managed to avoid dangerous encounters that would have busted players with lesser skill. For instance, on one occasion Stuey folded a set (three of a kind) on the turn when faced with an all-in bet. He stared blankly at three spades on board, took one look at his opponent, and released his hand. His instincts were proven correct when the player innocuously revealed a made flush. Another time, Stuey folded pocket queens preflop to an over-the-top, all-in reraise. The hand wasn't shown, but Stuey knew that he was up against either pocket aces or kings. Those two key folds would keep him in contention as more players were eliminated on the second and third day.

At the end of day No. 3, the tournament was down to nine finalists. The lineup at the final table, along with the chip counts, was as follows:

Bobby Baldwin – $128,300

Kenny Smith – $114,800

Jay Heimowitz – $103,000

Perry Green – $87,900

Gene Fisher – $84,700

Bill Smith – $82,600

Sam Petrillo – $67,400

Stu Ungar – $53,200

Andy Moore – $28,100

It was a formidable lineup. Every player at the final table was an experienced no-limit player. Play resumed at 1 p.m. on the fourth and final day as a large crowd packed Binion's Horseshoe. Sam Petrillo, a popular no-limit player from Chicago, was the first to make an untimely exit. Andy Moore, from Sarasota, Florida, was the next player out. For the next two hours, the seven remaining players burrowed themselves in at the table and traded chips. The chip lead changed four times. While his opponents gambled, Stuey sat quietly, rarely playing a hand and never speaking. He watched and waited, holding on to his precious few remaining chips as the blinds continued to escalate.

By 3 p.m., it appeared that Stuey might be the next player out. Down to the final seven players, Perry Green was the chip leader with $245,000. Bill Smith had $160,000. Bobby Baldwin had $120,000. Gene Fisher, Jay Heimowitz, and Ken Smith were all close together with about $75,000. Kid Stuey was hanging on desperately with about $35,000.

What happened over the next two hours that afternoon marked one of the great comebacks in World Series history. Between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m., Stuey went from $35,000 in chips and near oblivion to $500,000 in chips and the chip lead. How did it happen? Here's a review of some of the key hands:

In the small blind, Stuey survived his most critical hand of the tournament when he moved all in after the flop with a scant pair of fives. He won the critical pot when his opponent, 1978 World Champion Bobby Baldwin, called – but failed to make a pair. Stuey later said that he sensed Baldwin was weak, but would still call the all-in bet – an incredible leap of deduction on Stuey's part. Although he had doubled up, he was still low on chips.

A shocking turn of events transpired next. Baldwin, who had been the chip leader only a few minutes earlier before losing to Ungar's pocket fives, was dealt pocket kings the very next hand. Gene Fisher, with pocket queens, beat him into the pot with all of his chips, which Baldwin happily called. Incredibly, Fisher spiked a queen on the river to eliminate "the Owl" in seventh place.

A short time later, Stuey hit the kind of hand that every poker player dreams about. Dealt pocket jacks, his preflop raise was called by Jay Heimowitz, who at the time was an amateur poker player and beer distributor from Monticello, New York. The flop came K-J-10, which gave Stuey a set of jacks. The board still posed danger, however, since a straight was possible. All of the chips went into the pot and whatever Heimowitz held in his hand, it couldn't possibly beat Ungar when another jack fell on the river, giving Stuey a veritable powerhouse – four of a kind. Heimowitz, who later went on to win five gold bracelets at the World Series and was coming off his second consecutive final-table loss to Ungar, was eliminated in sixth place.

Budweiser-guzzling Bill Smith, from Roswell, New Mexico, was the next player to fall to "the Kid's" ax. Smith, who would win the world championship four years later, went all in against Stuey and was eliminated when his enigmatic foe turned up a spade flush. Smith was out in fifth place. Stuey, in the most unlikely of comebacks – and largely the beneficiary of three huge hands – suddenly had the lead for the first time in the tournament with $340,000.

Stuey with chips and in the lead was not a sight the other players wanted to see. Nursing a short stack, he was a threat, but given his hyperaggressive tendencies and fearless style of play, augmented by a big stack of chips, he was an impenetrable force. Stuey beamed with confidence as the 5 p.m. dinner break was announced. He swaggered through the crowd seeking action. In lieu of a meal, he ran around the Horseshoe looking for poker oddsmaker Jackie Gaughan in order to lay more money on himself to win the championship. He already had bet $5,000 on himself before the tournament started, getting odds of 25-1. That was a line that Gaughan must have later regretted, because he made Stuey a 6-1 choice at the final table, even though he was second-lowest in chips. Mercifully for Gaughan, Stuey wasn't able to find him in the large crowd that afternoon to make another bet. Gaughan's elusiveness, intentional or not, probably saved him at least another $50,000.

After the dinner break, the players took their seats and the cards were dealt again. Kenny "Top Hat" Smith of Dallas was the next player eliminated. Smith's exit disappointed the large crowd, which seemed to favor the colorful reincarnation of the riverboat gambler. When Perry Green busted Smith, it put the stubborn Alaskan fur trader back into the lead. The World Series was down to the final three players:

Perry Green – $400,000

Stu Ungar – $230,000

Gene Fisher – $120,000

By 8 p.m., the final table had been going nearly seven hours. Short-stacked and playing against two aggressive opponents, Fisher was delighted to look down and see two kings. Green called Fisher's large preflop raise. A flop with a king enabled Fisher to get all of his money into the pot without much hesitation, but Green called with a diamond flush draw. A diamond fell on the turn, and Fisher, from El Paso, Texas, was eliminated in third place. Now, it was down to the final two players – Stuey and Green.

Barrel-chested and gray-bearded Green looked every bit the part of his real-life occupation as a successful fur merchant. He was popular and well-respected, and clearly a formidable heads-up adversary for the brash young Ungar. Since Green enjoyed a significant chip advantage, most observers thought he was the favorite to win.

For the next 20 minutes, both players traded blinds and antes, with Ungar clearly the more assertive of the two. Stuey chopped away slowly at Green's stack. When Green made a move at the pot, Ungar frequently came over the top with a big raise, which caused Green to fold. Sure, Stuey was bluffing at times. The trouble was, Green never knew exactly when. Despite the impending nightfall, the chip lead, and the realization that the end was drawing near, Green started perspiring heavily.

At close to 9 p.m., Stuey caught a monstrous hand. He flopped the stone-cold nut flush with the A J. Green also flopped a flush with the 10 2. Both players moved their chips to the center of the table. Green was horrified when he discovered that he was drawing dead. Stuey now held a commanding chip lead. Green may have been a fur trapper, but now it was Ungar who smelled blood.

The end came shortly after 9 p.m. when Stuey was dealt A Q. Green held the 10 9 and called a preflop raise. The flop came 8 7u 4. Green, with a straight draw, moved his remaining chips into the pot on a semibluff, hoping desperately not to be called. Stuey, drawing to the flush with two overcards, called quickly.

As has been customary since the World Series began, both players revealed their cards. Green wasn't happy with Stuey's call, and needed to make a pair or complete a straight with a 6 or jack. The problem was, four of Green's cards were "dead," as any heart would give Stuey a flush. In poker parlance, Green's hand was dominated, and was down to 10 "outs" – the cards he needed to win the pot. Even if Green won, Stuey still would hold nearly a 2-1 chip lead.

The dealer peeled off the turn card. It was another 4, pairing the board, but was no help to either player except Stuey, who ostensibly would be glad to win the showdown with an ace high. The world championship had come down to one card. Tournament Director Eric Drache summoned the dealer to carefully reveal the next card from the deck. The card was turned. At first glance, it appeared to be in Green's favor. It was a facecard. Could it be a jack, giving Green the near-miracle straight? (Hundreds of eyes were blurred after hours under the bright lights.) When the card came into focus, things became clear. It was a queen, giving Stuey two pair – queens and fours. It was all over. Stuey won $375,000 and his second world championship.

Stuey looked relieved. He smiled reluctantly for the first time. Dressed in a tan V-neck sweater and looking like he just graduated from high school, he thrust his short arms forward and scooped up bundles of the cash splashed on the felt in front of him.

A group of reporters rushed forward. NBC sportscaster Curt Gowdy was the first to approach Stuey. "What are you going to do with the money?" Gowdy asked.

"I have no idea," Stuey replied as he looked around the crowd shaking hands and accepting congratulations.

When pressed for an answer, he mumbled a few words into the microphone, intent on dismissing questions about money or his personal life and trying to make an exit as quickly but as gracefully as possible. "I might take a vacation," he said. "I know I'll pay a lot of taxes."

The crowd laughed. Gowdy, tickled with his sound bite, smiled and walked away. Of course, it was a sham. Stuey never paid a dime in taxes. He never even filed a return with the IRS.

It didn't matter. After signing some forms and collecting the money in a large grocery sack, Stuey paid off some debts. A few minutes later, a large chunk of the money was gone. Stuey immediately darted off to look for Jackie Gaughan. He had another $125,000 coming for the $5,000 wager to win at 25-1.

Now unquestionably the best poker player in the world, Stuey's win silenced any remaining critics who may have harbored private feelings that 1980 was just a fluke won by a lucky one-time wonder – à la Hal Fowler, the implausible 1979 champion. For Stuey, the possibilities seemed endless. Only one thing could stop him – a passion for pleasures greater than winning.

Nolan Dalla can be reached at

[email protected].