World Series of Poker Memories:
Man Versus Machine

During the World Series of Poker in 1984, there was a big challenge match – man versus machine. Mike Caro had just introduced ORAC, a computer that "The Mad Genius" programmed to play no-limit hold'em freezeout tournaments. ORAC "wanted" to challenge some of the top players around the country. As the defending world champion, I became the first person to play against this worthy opponent in a supervised, official match. Many other players pitted their wits against ORAC later on, but I was its first "official" opponent.

With some hoopla, the McEvoy-ORAC duel began. After some initial sparring with my mechanical foe, I was ahead in the match. Caro had been careful to make sure that ORAC was capable of taking into account some fast play on the part of its more aggressive opponents. Therefore, the computer was prepared to put in lots of chips on some medium-strength hands before the flop if it "thought" that was the right thing to do. The final, fatal hand came down when I decided to test ORAC's abilities by gambling with A-9 offsuit. I plowed in a whole ton of chips, enough to put ORAC all in before the flop if "he" called my raise. I got a big surprise, of course, when "he" studied and hesitated, or whatever you call it when a computer is calculating its chances. Suddenly, ORAC's screen lit up with "I call!"

I didn't particularly like it – who would when you've put in most of your chips with nothing more than an A-9? You're not in very good shape before the flop: At best, you have two overcards, or you could be up against an ace with a higher kicker. And that's exactly what happened – ORAC called me with A-Q. A 9 fell on the flop, reminiscent of the final hand at the 2000 WSOP when Chris Ferguson's A-9 drew out on T.J. Cloutier's A-Q on the river. When nothing came to help my valiant foe, my pair of nines stood up and I busted ORAC, winning my first challenge match against Caro's brainchild.

After the contest, I was interviewed by a flock of reporters. They got a few chuckles when I said in jest, "The fact that I drew out on the computer with the worst hand proves that ORAC is only human, just like the rest of us."

Two years later in 1986, I squeaked into the final table of the razz tournament at the WSOP in bottom chip position and slowly worked my way up the ladder until I eventually challenged former ladies champion, the late Alma McClelland, in the finals. After a couple of hours of seesaw battle, I finally emerged victorious. At the time, McClelland was one of the very few women who had gone all the way to the finals of an open event at the WSOP. Of course, she was a terrific poker player and a very strong opponent who, at one point, was the all-time ladies money winner at the WSOP.

I've seen many finals in the championship event at the WSOP, but probably the strangest one I have ever witnessed took place in 1989 when Johnny Chan, who won the title in 1987 and 1988, was in the finals trying to win an unprecedented third consecutive WSOP championship. His heads-up opponent was Phil Hellmuth, who had a substantial chip lead on Chan when they played a gigantic pot before the flop. Hellmuth held pocket nines, one of which was a spade, and Chan had the A 7. They made several preflop raises and reraises to get Chan all in before the flop, so there was more than $800,000 in chips in the pot. If Hellmuth lost the pot, he still would be the chip leader, but by a fairly narrow margin. If he won the pot – the calculations were that he was a slightly better than 2-to-1 favorite – he would become the new world champion.

The strange part of this hand occurred after all the chips were in the center. Both hands were turned faceup, a timeout was called, and then Chan and Hellmuth exited the tournament area before the flop was dealt. They spent approximately 10 minutes away from the table while the dealer quietly tapped the deck with a chip. The deck remained stationary and no flop was dealt. The obvious conclusion was that Chan and Hellmuth were discussing some sort of a settlement. I'm not sure of the exact details, but apparently they made some type of save between themselves. Finally, they returned, the flop was dealt, Hellmuth's nines held up, and he captured the 1989 WSOP championship.

You'll find lots of memorable hands, facts, photos, and interviews with the champs in The Championship Table, a new book about the WSOP by Dana Smith and me. Speaking of championship tables, I hope to meet you at one of them very soon.

Editor's note: Tom McEvoy is the co-author with Dana Smith and Ralph Wheeler of The Championship Table, which is now available through Card Player. His other books include Tournament Poker and Championship Omaha. For more information, visit www.pokerbooks.com.