Ken Flaton, R.I.P.

Saying goodbye is always a tough thing to do. It is especially sad when it is the final goodbye. This was the case for me on Tuesday, Nov. 9, 2004, when I said my last goodbye to my dear friend Kenny Flaton. It was at his funeral … his untimely death having occurred the previous Sunday.

Kenny was having a great year playing poker and enjoying life with his lovely wife, Crystal, his young son, Aaron, and all of his buddies in the poker and sports worlds. He was traveling the world to chase his passion for poker, always returning home to Henderson, just outside Las Vegas, to be with his family at every opportunity. Most recently, he had played at Foxwoods Resort Casino in Ledyard, Connecticut. Having a few days off between events, he flew all the way back to Las Vegas, so as not to be away one day longer than was necessary while taking care of business. It was during these few days at home that Kenny fell victim to a fatal heart attack.

He was trying to continue a great tournament year in which he had amassed 900 points in Card Player's Player of the Year Points Standings. He had two second-place finishes and a third-place finish within a four-day period in the L.A. Poker Classic in February. In April, he finished fourth in the seven-card stud eight-or-better event at the Five-Star World Poker Classic. Then, in May, he came away with an eighth-place finish in one of the preliminary no-limit hold'em events at his beloved World Series of Poker. He had 38 in-the-money finishes at the WSOP, and also won the U.S. Poker Championship main event in Atlantic City a few years back.

I met Kenny in 1978 when I was a poker dealer at the long since demolished Silver Slipper Casino. It was a local's joint on the Strip, located just about where the Desert Inn overpass is today. Every Wednesday night, the Slipper hosted boxing, and Kenny was there every week. He would come in and play poker in the biggest game we had. That was a 25-cent ante, $1-$3-$6 dealer's choice game. He was always smiling and gabbing with the other players. He was so well-liked and affable, I made friends with him, as did everyone else. It was hard not to like the guy, he was so dang pleasant. And this was in a world of undesirables and nasty people, and long before the days of no-abuse policies and timeout penalties; Kenny just came to play and have fun. He also made sure that everyone else around him had fun, as well. Never at a loss for words, he was just a nice, nice guy.

Let's fast-forward a year. I had gotten friendly with Kenny and we chatted occasionally about the weather and other silly things. We even talked a little about poker, but pretty much just made small talk. That year, I played in my first WSOP event, $500 buy-in seven-card stud. This was a huge buy-in for me, but I thought it would be a good investment. Starting with $500 in chips and a $15-$30 limit, I progressed through the field for a few limits. Ultimately, I ended up at a table with my buddy from the Slipper. I was about 23 years old at the time, and had seen Kenny's name in the poker papers with all of his victories. It was a pivotal moment in my poker career when I busted out of that stud event and Kenny commented to me, "Stick with it, kid, you're gonna go far." That was more than 25 years ago, and I still remember it as if it were yesterday. I remember the very casual clothes he wore. He was known for his "less than snazzy" appearance as much as he was for his infectious smile. I shall miss him.

Over the next two and a half decades, Ken mentored me. We went to lunch and talked about poker. He sat behind me for hours and critiqued my play. I watched him play in high-limit games and asked him questions. He always had time for me and thoroughly answered my inquiries. He never seemed bothered or made me feel as though I was taking up his time. He genuinely was interested in my poker future.

I met his wife-to-be at a poker table and discovered that she and I shared a passion for tennis. Kenny then started hanging out at our club, and even gave tennis a try. What he lacked in coordination on the court, he more than made up for with his goofy smile and contagious giggle. His tennis attire was also less than chic, and that was one of the truly great things about Kenny. He was his own man, and danced to the beat of his own drummer. I oftentimes wondered if his drummer was all there!

Ken Flaton, son Aaron, and wife Crystal

He was one of the good guys, and was never happier than when Crystal said yes to his marriage proposal. His son, Aaron, was born a year later, and Kenny really began to live the life he always wanted. He was already in his 50s at that time. One of his trademarks was the up-to-date photo of his son that he always placed on the poker table at any tournament. He never was without his photos, and always boasted of his son's Little League accomplishments or school grades. He will be a tough act to follow. Crystal and Aaron will never forget or replace him, nor will any of us who knew and loved Kenny. Hopefully, his memory will last eternally, and that vision will make others strive for excellence in a less than perfect world. Thanks for touching my life, Kenny. The poker world and mankind has lost a treasure.