A Bonetti/Confetti Roast They'll Never Fuhgedabout - A roast for John Bonetti provides an evening of fun

by Max Shapiro | Published: Aug 09, 2005

The one-and-only John Bonetti, as renowned for his explosive behavior as for his tournament successes, was torn to confetti in the spirit of fun during a roast in his honor at the Rio Hotel during the World Series of Poker. Profanity filled the air and the room rocked with laughter as the speakers repeatedly mocked Bonetti's coarse, penalty-provoking language and his ongoing war with dealers.

The roast was sponsored by PokerStars. At the conclusion of the ceremony, Marketing Vice President Dan Goldman, who emceed the event, surprised the 77-year-old, three-bracelet winner by presenting him with a $10,000 buy-in to the WSOP championship event.

Goldman said he first met Bonetti during a Diamond Jim Brady tournament at The Bicycle Casino. Bonetti was kind to him, "so I have to assume that it was on off day for John, and that he didn't know I used to be a dealer." He said Bonetti gave him his first poker lesson by folding cards against his pocket kings, then warning him that he was exposing his cards. The next time Goldman saw him was while playing video poker in Aruba and, from the next bank of machines heard Bonetti cry out, "Can you believe this" I'm being cold-decked by a – – – – – – – video poker machine!"

Goldman then introduced the first speaker, whom he described as America's foremost (and only) poker humorist, Max Shapiro. Scanning the crowd, I said it was nice to see so many of Bonetti's friends, but didn't see many dealers in the audience. I hailed Bonetti as "one of the most cultured and refined gentlemen ever to grace a poker table, even though he holds the woild's record for the most coise-woid penalties in poker." I said Bonetti was one of the most colorful men in poker. "And the color is blue, for his language."I noted that Bonetti would be most remembered for proving that it's never too late to start playing poker. "John began playing poker way back when Roosevelt was president. Not Franklin Roosevelt -

Teddy Roosevelt." I said that ESPN was so excited after Bonetti finished third and won $175,000 at a WSOP event this year that they filmed and interviewed him for an hour. "Unfortunately, they could use only 18 seconds after all the coise woids were bleeped out."

But, I added, beneath Bonetti's gruff exterior could be found a kind, gentle, compassionate man. "For example, John never met a dealer he didn't like. Didn't like to kill, that is." I said that the saddest day in Bonetti's life came when they began introducing automatic dealing machines. "Who da hell can I blame now – da manufacturer?" I barked, imitating Bonetti's inimitable speech.

I recalled that I once tried to write a book with Bonetti years ago, but the project never got very far. "John is a modest person and was reticent to talk about his early life. His early life in the Mafia, the guys he killed, that sort of thing." Another problem was just understanding Bonetti's speech. "I'm from Brooklyn, and all I could make out was 'fuhgedaboutit.'"

I said I could find no nicer way to describe Bonetti than Media Director Nolan Dalla did in his WSOP tournament report when he called Bonetti a "ball-busting, cantankerous curmudgeon." Concluding, I said that John Bonetti was one person whom nobody could ever "fuhgedabout."

I then mentioned that Frank Henderson and Barbara Enright also had been invited to be speakers, but both declined because they couldn't find anything bad to say about him. "They couldn't find anything good to say, either." Still, I added, Enright was so fond of him that she deliberately busted out of the ladies tournament that day so that she could attend the roast. Surprisingly, nobody seemed to believe that.

PartyPoker consultant and World Poker Tour commentator Mike Sexton was the next speaker. He was accompanied by a hand puppet that he periodically squeezed to imitate Bonetti's "fuhgedabout it" catchphrase. He referred to Bonetti as "Mr. Congeniality," and insisted that, contrary to his reputation, Bonetti was really popular with the dealers. There was even a picture of him hanging in the dealers' break room, Sexton said. He then displayed the photo – which was smack-dab in the center of a dart board.

Sexton went on to list some of the poker records Bonetti held. These included 82 consecutive times that floorpersons had ruled against him; 1,645 times that he had staked players in satellites, and none of them ever cashed in; and 2,226 times in a row that he had defended his blinds when someone tried to raise him out.

Sexton then recalled another distinctive record Bonetti earned at the old Tournament of Champions. Just before a break, Bonetti, with A-K, lost to A-Q when a queen rivered. Walking away, he uttered the f-word when someone asked him about the hand. A floorman three tables away overhead him and slapped him with a 20-minute penalty, making Bonetti the only player ever to be penalized on break away from the table.He suggested that Bonetti might have made the world's biggest bonehead play at the 1993 WSOP championship event, when he and Jim Bechtel were fairly even in chips and Glenn Cozen didn't have enough to cover his next blind. Instead of letting Cozen go broke and perhaps splitting $1.4 million with Bechtel, Bonetti got involved in a hand with him and busted out in third place.

From the audience, Marsha Waggoner talked about Bonetti's habit of offering to take pieces of players midway in tournaments after they'd built up lots of chips. He talked her into letting him put up a rebuy one time when she was in strong position. "I'm a soft touch," she joked, and then told of her complicated negotiations with him when she cashed out.

A gambler by the name of Richard Sklar, aka Richie Fingers, was the next speaker. Goldman said he was best-known in gambling circles as "The Fixer," someone who could "get your horse in a fix." (In 1997, Sklar claimed, unrepentantly, to have fixed 1,000 thoroughbred races and was fined for fixing three.)

"If you think John's bad in poker," Sklar said, "you ain't seen nothin' yet." Bonetti now needs the occasional use of a wheelchair, and Sklar did a spirited imitation of him racing back and forth in a motorized chair in the casino's race and sportsbook, wildly and imprudently putting down bets.

Harrah's high-games supervisor Tony Shelton then reported how dealers fantasized about having Bonetti drawn and quartered, sent over Niagara Falls without a barrel, and repeatedly half-drowned before being tied to a rock and pitched in a lake. He recalled instances of atrocious behavior by other players, one of whom relieved himself on a dealer's leg, another who took a red-chip "toke," then spit on it and tossed it in the trash. For pure vulgarity, Shelton said, Bonetti was head and shoulders above them all.

For example, he told of the time a lady dealer sat down and asked, "How's everybody today?" Bonetti's courteous response was, "Deal the fricken cards." On another memorable occasion, he said he hoped a dealer's eyes fell out.

Shelton told of how dealers discussed ways to murder him. Tossing him off a roof wasn't feasible because nobody wanted to touch him. Poison didn't affect him. "The SOB is indestructible," a dealer finally called out in despair.

Goldman next introduced Phil Hellmuth, who, he said, perfectly fits the song lyrics, "Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way."

Hellmuth repeatedly called Bonetti the biggest pain in the ass in the whole world. He asked Bonetti's friend Jim Lester for confirmation, and Lester responded, "100 percent." Hellmuth described his first encounter with Bonetti at a tournament. After Bonetti won a big pot with a higher diamond flush, he tormented Hellmuth by saying, "Never send a boy to do a man's job," but Hellmuth got revenge by winning the event. He went on to describe the anguish he suffered as the two would stake each other, although he acknowledged that Bonetti did pay for his house.

Goldman then introduced "poker's version of a human train wreck," Mike Laing. He said he had no idea what Laing would say, "but then again, neither does he, nor will he remember it afterward."

Laing remembered one time when he clashed with Bonetti, who politely advised him to take his tongue out and stick it up his ass. He said he had started out playing ABC poker, using group one and group two guidelines for playable hands. Bonetti turned his head around and confused him, he said, by showing that hands like Q-10 offsuit headed the list because they could make two straights and two flushes.

Goldman was the last roaster. He said that with the help of John's wife, Jeannie, he rummaged through their house and came across "rare recordings" of Bonetti's voice at various times of his life.

The "tapes" started with Bonetti's first word at 11 months, "Ma ma"; his second, "Da da"; and his first full sentence, also at 11 months, "You filthy (bleep)." They continued through school ("The teacher gave me a – – – – – – – D! What the – – – -!"), in confessional booth ("I have swore at dealers! I have screamed profanity in mixed company. Ah, – – – – it, father – just give me a few Hail Marys so I can get back to the goddamned tables."), while watching his beloved Yankees lose ("You – – – – – – – Yankees!"), and so on.

Goldman then praised Bonetti for what was really important, being a family man, as he introduced Bonetti's wife and granddaughter Nastassia. He then allowed "Bono" to finally respond to his tormentors.

Bonetti went to work, deriding Sklar for once touting him on 21 horses without once cashing a ticket. He noted that Sexton could see the WPT holecards, had six months to analyze hands before taping his commentary, and still needed Vince Van Patten to tell him what happened. He said if the drinks were free, Laing would show up at a roast for Saddam Hussein. He taunted me for selling only four of my books, saying, "two of which he bought himself."

As for Shelton, "He's the boss of dealers, so what good can I say about him"? And he ended by declaring that if Hellmuth linked all of his nine bracelets together, he could wear them as a headband.

A surprise roaster was Bonetti's protege, Al "Sugar Bear" Barbieri, who imitated him by rolling in on a motorized chair and then did an impersonation of his benefactor. He related how Bonetti would put him in a satellite, then chastise him when he got knocked out. "Shut up! Get over here!" He imitated Bonetti asking a dealer where he was from, then saying, "Why don't you go back there." But he also praised Bonetti for being someone, like Sinatra, to whom people flocked.

After all the ribaldry, the evening ended on a tender and touching note as dealer/pro player Carolyn Gardner told the audience that Bonetti has "more heart than you realize," and reminded them of all the things he had done for other players over the years. Then, demonstrating an impressive singing voice, she serenaded him by crooning What a Difference a Day Makes, ending with, "and the difference is John." It was reminiscent of Bette Midler's memorable rendition of One More for the Road, the ballad that ended Johnny Carson's final show.