Continued from Part Five...
Like most, Rounders was my bait. Watching Mike McDermott clean out the local games as he battled to pay off a pending debt. He made it look so easy, as if luck wasn’t a factor, that whatever the game, as long as he played better than his opponent, he could turn a profit and get that one step closer to bailing his best friend out. He was clearly the best poker player the game had ever seen. But forward wind a few years and I picked up Nolan Dalla’s The Man Behind the Shades: The Rise and Fall of Stuey ‘The Kid’ Ungar and it suddenly emerged that there perhaps lived a greater talent, one who wasn’t aided by the world of fiction.
Stu Ungar held a lot in common with McDermott: both were mathematically astute, quick learners and great at picking up tells, but perhaps the most prevalent similarity was their fearlessness. Stuey once said, “I never show any fear. Put a gun to my head and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash”, and judging by Rounders’ opening scene in which “three stacks of high society” are placed on the line, McDermott shared the same philosophy.
Of course, anyone can run good, garner fame and ill-informed respect after a big win. An audience can never be a reliable judge of talent. The players, however, those who have tackled them head on, over umtpeen sessions, witnessing numerous unedited hands, will know better than most who is worthy of praise. Whilst McDermott has just Worm to vouch for his talents, Ungar, and despite the 12 years since his passing, has left an array of players in his wake, all of whom are keen to laud his talents and celebrate him as one of the greatest players to have hit the baize.
One of those is Freddy Deeb. A professional poker player originally from Lebanon, Deeb has picked up over seven million in tournament winnings including two WPT titles, 27 WSOP cashes, and two bracelets, one being the 2007 $50,000 HORSE Championship. Deeb has been a permanent presence in poker since he took up the game in the late seventies and is regarded as one of the best cash game players around. Unlike many of today’s pros, Deeb was a regular opponent of Ungar.
“He was fearless,” claimed Deeb, as I met him in an expensive London hotel. “Very aggressive, but controlled aggression. Aggression with thought. It wasn’t just about raising every hand, he played right and always had a good read, knew where people were at. Most of the players were there to play a poker game and didn’t adjust. They didn’t care if it was Stu Ungar, Doyle Brunson, or whoever, they just wanted to play.
“I played him heads-up many times, mainly in No Limit Hold’em. He was a great player. I learned a lot of pointers in my heads-up game that I picked up from him and liked. I still use them today – certain plays and traits, and how to play certain hands.
“As a poker player,” he continued as he took a sip of coffee, “he was a great poker player. He had a good sense for cards and was an all round player. If we sat down in the game and wanted to change it from Hold’em to Stud, No Limit Hold’em, or Deuce-to-Seven, or if the game broke up, he’d play any game. When you’re a player who plays anything, then you’re considered to be a top player in my opinion."
“A sense for cards” could be translated in a number ways. To some, it suggests an innate, natural ability that few possess. Ungar was a prodigy, and I doubt anyone would deny that he didn't have a "natural" talent for the game. He could recall decks of cards, he was doing his father’s books before his age had reached double figures, and he became the world’s greatest gin player without even trying. The learning process just came so easy for him. “There were no books in them days,” added Deeb. “Nobody learned the game from books. You just played and figured it out yourself.” Ungar wasn’t born with the ability to play cards, he was born with the ability to learn quickly, and he learned quicker than anyone around.
The term “ahead of his time” is one that is often thrown about when discussing Ungar, but it’s a claim that is backed up by his fellow players. Like a fortuneteller to the modern game, Ungar knew that aggression was the key, and that applying pressure, whatever your cards, was the most effective strategy. In those days, poker was a game of secrets, and players were able to keep their cards closer to their chest, meaning the learning process for those making mistakes would be a lot slower than it is today. They couldn’t just log into CardRunners and find out what hands Ungar likes to play and why, they had to work it out for themselves. The only problem was that many players didn't believe there was anything to work out, but Ungar was different, he was already thinking on a level higher than everyone else.
“It was unheard of for someone to play for a gutshot straight or steal the blinds with 3-2,” explained Mel Judah. “It never happened in those days. You would give up the pot. But the thing was, if they didn’t reach a showdown, you never knew what was happening. It took a while, but eventually I started to realise that there was a lot more to poker that the style most people were playing, and I changed my game accordingly. The whole concept was very different. Ungar would mix it up, and people would find it hard to beat him. He was always thinking two or three moves ahead. No one did that at the time."
“At the final table in ‘97,” added Donacha O’Dea. “There was a pot with Ron Stanley in which Stanley raised and Stuey called. Stanley bet the flop and Stuey called with absolutely no hand, big bet, to try and bluff. Sure enough, a scare card came. Stanley checked and Stuey made a big bet and Stanley threw the hand away. Stuey showed the bluff and Stanley was gone. It finished him off. Stuey was the only player doing this sort of stuff back then.
“He was pretty amazing at analysing hands.” O’Dea continued. “He was more working out how he could bluff somebody rather than tells. In tournaments, you would hate it if Stuey called you, and in cash games it was just horrible. You just knew he could have any sort of hand. Basically, you had to pay him off, he was just so hard to read and there really weren’t that many ‘two card’ players around. I honestly can’t think of anybody who was playing that style. People didn’t adjust either and Stuey had the market to himself for a long time. I think he was so far ahead of his field in the same way Mohammed Ali was. Ali would get in the ring with the second and third best boxers and go just hit me. Stuey did a similar thing. Nobody has dominated poker like he did."
“He had an instinct for the game,” divulged Deeb. “It was automatic for him, like putting a programme in a computer to do something. The right way all the time, the computer never makes a mistake, because it’s programmed, and you mentally become programmed on all the tricks of the games, and the moves you have to make. Sure you make a mistake and miss out on certain things some of the time, but overall the more good things you do, the more you’re gonna win. He already had the maths and the programmes in his head.”
It would be naïve to suggest that Ungar was perfect. Sometimes, his natural gift and ability to outthink his opponents didn't quite go to plan, as O'Dea explains. “There was one pot I remember playing against him in cash. He raised and I called with two fours and the flop came T-T-4. Stuey bet, and I raised. Stuey starts mumbling, ‘Jesus, fucking dealer,’ and he said, ‘You saw that fucking card.’ It transpires that a 10 had flashed when someone passed, but the dealer didn’t announce that the card had been exposed. He thinks that I think he hasn’t seen this card and am making a play at him, so he’s put in the rest of his 15 or 20K into a pot where he’s just got a few thousand invested with two jacks and, of course, I make the call. I said I never saw the 10, and again he’s cursing the dealer. If that 10 hadn’t been flashed, he would have passed. He went bananas, steam was coming out of his ears.”
His inability to accept defeat was perhaps Ungar’s greatest obstacle, and one of the only reasons why his fellow pros would be happy to play with him. “Stuey was a bad loser,” revealed O’Dea, “but he wouldn’t stop, he’d just empty his pockets out. To that extent, people didn’t mind playing with him when he was being obnoxious because you knew you could take his money. I played with him a lot when I first went to Vegas in ’82, but I seemed to have the Indian sign on him. I would run good, and get the better of him, and it really irritated the hell out of him. He’d call me with ridiculous hands to try and beat me. When he wasn’t playing well, he was so bad it was mind-boggling, he was a total steamer. He had trouble with patience too and struggled with Limit. He’d be itching, almost twitching in his seat, he was like a dog with a bone once he got into a pot. If Stuey was winning then he was a real handful. Throw in Jack Struass and it would be the game from hell, they would just torture you.”
Doyle Brunson summed O’Dea’s thoughts up well when he was asked who the best and worst players in poker were, only to answer Ungar on both accounts. As with his vices, at the table, Ungar could be his own worst enemy. He was indeed his toughest opponent.
“Was he the best around?” mused Deeb. “Well, at the time, I would say he was in the top 10. He was good, but there is no such thing as a best ever – there are good players, a lot of good players – who the best today is who had a good sleep, is the best rested, in a good frame of mind, is mentally and physically fit today – could be Doyle Brunson, Chip Reese, or Stu Ungar – but certain days I want to play with these people, and can see they’re off balance, or off edge. If they’re irritated, off their game, they’re the best to play with, because they can throw away a lot of money. It all depends who’s playing good that day. We’re all humans, we all tend to make mistakes, or not be perfect that day to play poker – those are the things you look for and take advantage of in a poker game.”
Whilst Deeb may only commit to a “top 10”, others have been less indecisive. Mike Sexton, in particular, is Ungar’s biggest supporter to date, and will display no hesitation in crowning him the greatest poker that ever lived. Mel Judah shares a similar standpoint, as does Padraig Parkinson. But despite their sureness, the underlying problem is that there are various factors that make judging who the best players are increasingly difficult. If the best player is the person who finishes with the most money, then Ungar would be rock bottom. Even if it were the player with the most profit from poker alone, then Ungar’s poor game selection and tendency to tilt would likely drop him down the list. However, if its based purely on raw poker talent, then Ungar would be near the top. Ungar was capable of being rich beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, but his vices, which were perhaps as natural as his playing ability, held him back. The back of Dalla’s book confidently reads: “The extraordinary life of the best poker player who lived,” but it’s a claim that could be contested.
Whichever way you look at it, there’s no doubt that Ungar made his mark and proved himself to be, at the least, one of the best ever players to pick up a deck of cards. When he was on top of his game, he was considered unbeatable. He could play all games, tournaments and cash. In ring games, he was a constant fret, whilst in tournaments he elevated the game to another level, winning back-to-back Amarillo Slim Suberbowl of Poker titles, and capturing five bracelets and three Main Event titles, the first of which was only his second ever tournament. If he’s not the best ever player, then he’s certainly taken an impressive resume to his grave.
Ungar’s premature demise and, well, Mike McDermott’s existence as a fictional character, mean we’ll never know for sure who would have won that battle. Like Ali and Tyson, Sampras and Federer, or Woods and Niklaus, who would have beaten who in their prime will remain a mystery and little more than a figment of our imagination. Perhaps the plucky, law student will have outwitted the former Gin master, or maybe the original ‘Kid’ would have taken McDermott back to school like KGB did at the start of the film. One thing we can say for sure, however, is that, despite his flaws, if you were to pluck someone from the world of poker to tackle a player of McDermott’s talents, then you’d probably opt for Stu Ungar.
Read Part Seven...
Previous articles:
Introduction: An Icon of the Game
Part One: The Fall & Fall
Part Two: A Freak of Nature
Part Three: An Appetite for Action
Part Four: Jekyll & Hyde
Part Five: A Hand to Remember