Welcome to Las Vegas! My name is Victor H. Royer, but everyone just calls me Vegas Vic. I was named after that famous neon sign in Downtown Las Vegas, that cowboy with the hat on top of the Pioneer Club, always waving his hand and beckoning to his long love, Sassy Sally, on the other side of the street. I will be writing a few articles for AccessVegas.com, so I hope you enjoy them.
"You goddamned son-of-a-bitch!" Benny bellowed. "Here, you old cuss! Take the goddamned pot! It's all yours! You sucked out on me and I know you got the goddamned trey of diamonds for the goddamned straight flush and all I got is the goddamned king of spades for the goddamned nut flush! Take the damned money, you son-of-a-bitch." And Benny threw his cards into the muck and pushed the pot toward Johnny Moss, then sat down with a thud.
Johnny sat there quietly for a long time, and then turned over the deuce of hearts, for a mere pair of deuces. Benny's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.
"Well, hell, Benny," said Johnny. "I just thought you was tryin' to buy this here pot with that puny bet of $112,000 into a $500,000 pot. I figured you wanted me to think that you got the straight flush and that's why you bet only one fifth of the pot, trying to get me sucked in on a call, because you figured that I'd figure you had the damned thing all sewn up. Well, I figured that you figured I had nothin', but I figured that you had nothin' so I figured my pair of ducks was good. So why in the world did you throw your cards in when I asked you about a marker?"
"'Cause I know you, you old son-of-a-bitch!" bellowed Benny. "You wouldn't ask me for a goddamned $612,000 marker if you weren't about to raise me the pot, and you wouldn't raise me the goddamned pot if you didn't have that goddamned trey!"
"I wasn't gonna raise you," said Johnny after a while. "All I asked was would you take my marker."
"Well, I'll be goddamned!" Benny started laughing. "You son-of-a-bitch! You played me. Played me like a goddamned fiddle! On a double bluff, no less! You figured that I'd think exactly what I thought because I know you, and that I would do exactly what I did and hand you the goddamned pot. And, if you was wrong and I'd just talk about the goddamned marker, then you'd throw your hand away and either way you'd win. One way you win the pot, and the other you win by saving the call." Benny laughed so much he nearly fell off his chair. "Hell, you old cuss, come on. I'll buy you the goddamned biggest drink you ever saw. Anyone who can bluff me like that is my friend for life. But by the way...don't ever try this again. �Cause next time, I'll know better."
"But Benny," replied Johnny, "next time I will have that trey!"
And to their deaths, the two men were the best of friends. In 2000, the murder of Benny's son, Ted Binion, became a national television event as the trial of his murderers took center stage. The buzz in Vegas was -- and still is -- that if old Benny was alive, this case would never have gone to trial. Those who killed his boy would have suddenly vanished, and would most likely be visiting rattlesnakes at the bottom of some old mine shaft in the middle of the Nevada desert.
Victor H. Royer is the Author of 22 books on casino gaming. His newest series of 13 books -- including the new release Powerful Profits from Tournament Poker -- are now available in all major book stores, or from The Gambler's Book Shop at 1-800-522-1777, or at Amazon.Com. Visit his Web site at: http://www.GamingAuthor.com
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