Goodbye, Puggy

When I was a teenager, I visited Las Vegas with my family. We were staying at the Las Vegas Hilton. When we got there, my parents were getting ready for dinner and my dad asked me to go down to the poker room and grab a Card Player. I went downstairs and eventually came back with a Card Player, which looked like a thin newspaper. However, right after I grabbed it, someone pointed to a poker game and said, "Son, that is Puggy Pearson." I went upstairs and gave my dad the Card Player, and told him that I had seen a guy named Puggy. My dad told me a few stories about the man, and we went downstairs and watched him play for 10 minutes. He had a cigar in his mouth and was talking to the players like he had total control of the game. It was my first celebrity sighting.



It was a very exciting moment for me not only to see Puggy, but to witness my first high-limit game. Each pot had more money in it than I had ever seen in my life. I was in awe, and I didn't know anything about poker.



Many years later, I moved to Las Vegas and found myself playing in the Tournament of Champions (TOC), and Puggy Pearson was at my table. We were playing hold'em at the time, and I was young and ultra-aggressive. I was about to bet out on the river, and Puggy had a few chips in his hand, as though he was going to call no matter what. I knew that Puggy was one of the best hustlers in the world, and I felt that he was pretending that he was going to call, but wouldn't. I took it a step further and decided that he was baiting me into checking so that he wouldn't have to call. Finally, I bet out on my bluff, and his chips dropped down into the pot and his pocket aces were faceup on the table. I was a little disappointed that my thought process was wrong, but the fact was that I had tried to bluff one of poker's all-time best players and had fallen for his little game – and he won an extra bet from my poor play. Puggy then started singing a song to me that started something like this: "I, I, I am a roving gambler …" So, not only did I lose, but I was now being serenaded in front of eight other men. Instead of going on tilt, I was honored, and I had a story that I haven't shared until now.



Puggy passed away a few weeks ago, and will be remembered for being one of the pioneers who put this game on the map before there was televised poker. I will miss his stories, his singing, and his passion for the game.