IT AIN'T JUST ALL HEAVEN, GAMBLING. THERE'S A LOT YOU GOT TO CONTEND WITH--John Hardie Moss, world's best poker player
Edwin Shrake
January 25, 1971
In a voice that sounds like a recorded announcement Eighty Dollar Natey says, "Pleased to make your acquaintance." His handshake is quick and slight, his flesh cold. His eyes, sunk in black pockets in a face otherwise white as alabaster, move around the casino on a sunny morning in Glitter Gulch in downtown Las Vegas. He is searching for clients among players who have been up all night at the green tables. What Eighty Dollar Natey does is lend small sums of money to people who go broke. He demands a very high rate of interest, but they pay it.
"Joe is coming," says Sarge. "He's still mad."
"I know what you buzzards are after, and you're not gonna get it," Bernstein says. He lights a cigar and orders a drink. "But I might be willing to teach you, John Moss, how to play a game called gin rummy. A boy like you ought to learn all the games."
"Teach me!" says Sarge.
They grin and go to the right rear table and sit down. After an hour or two the game of gin will turn into a game of hold 'em, and at this time tomorrow night they may still be sitting there, with black chips and $100 bills stacked up before them in numbers that rise and dwindle with the passing of the hours. "Sometimes it gets kind of exciting," Moss says.