Thieves, Scoundrels, and An Occasional Gentleman

When W. C. Fields, the famous imbibing comic actor, described the average poker table as being occupied by 'thieves, scoundrels and an occasional gentleman,' he was talking about 90 percent of the gamblers who call Las Vegas home.

I have personally known many of the most notorious gamblers. Some became personal friends, like Puggy Pearson, Oklahoma Johnny Hale, Benny Binion and Doyle Brunson. Others -- well, others you just didn't want to get too close to because the taint might rub off.

One of my favorite hobbies is reading books about the old time gamblers. While some gambling books have a kernel of truth and make good reading, others sound like a script concocted by a Hollywood screen writer.

Johnny Moss is a good example of what I am talking about.

I tried to interview Moss on at least a dozen occasions over a two-year period when I was living in Las Vegas. Moss always treated me good-naturedly -- he had a dry sense of humor and appreciated the irony of life -- but I don't think he was comfortable answering questions, especially if they got personal.

Benny Binion knew I wanted to interview Moss. He warned me, 'Johnny ain't much of a talker. But if you can ever get him away from a poker game, he just might give you a pretty good story. He's certainly lived an interesting life, that's for sure.'

There is a great book store in Las Vegas called the Gambler's Book Store. There you can find almost every book that has ever been written about the world's most colorful and notorious gamblers.

I found a used book there on Johnny Moss. While I don't recall the author's name, I do know that he revealed a surprising amount of material about Moss and his early life as an outlaw gambler in Texas where he served time for killing two men in shootouts.

There is only one thing that bothers me about the book. It doesn't ring true -- not one word of it.

The quotes the author attributes to Moss were almost hilarious. The writer has Moss speaking in perfect English, always logical, and thoroughly in command of how he spoke and the things he said.

That wasn't the Johnny Moss I knew.

No, Johnny was a mumbler. He rarely looked you in the eye. He preferred the toothpick look, the quick brushoff, the sly getaway to something else that interests him just at the time you think you are finally getting his interest.

Moss only had one interest in life. That was gambling.

While he expressed it in different ways -- when he supervised poker rooms at the Dunes and the Stardust, he loved teaching dealers how to 'snatch' pots and pull in a lot more cash in rakes than what they were entitled to under the law.

I spoke candidly with one dealer who worked for Moss. He asked me not to reveal his name -- despite his advanced age, he is still dealing at a Strip Casino --- but said flat-out, 'Moss was an outlaw pure and simple. He grew up that way, learned all of the tricks, and put them into use.

Moss was easily accessible to the press -- as long as you didn't try to bother him while he was playing poker. I quickly discovered this when I tried to corner him on giving me the interview he had promised for such a long time.

He'd wave me off and concentrate on his cards. If he was in between hands, he'd just give me a sideways look, chewing on a toothpick, and make a non-committal comment like, 'So how's the world treating you?' without really wanting you to answer.

Moss was most at easy sitting in a corner booth at Binion's Coffee Shop talking to Benny, Jack Binion or one of the old times. Nobody else could get the time of day from him and he pretty much lived his life that way until he received the golden handshake.

I actually didn't mind the way Moss treated me. To my way of thinking, he was a specimen -- something you see under a rock or beneath a log. You pick it up, handle it and wonder what you are holding.

One night at Binion's after a couple of glasses of champagne, I tried to kid him into lending me $40 to buy into a $4-8 limit Texas Hold'em game. That was the first time I saw Moss really smile. He just shook his head and didn't answer.

'If you ever got that money out of him, that's a story you could tell your grandkids for the rest of your life,' one poker-playing crony said. 'Moss was never generous with his cash. That just wasn't the way he was.'

A month or so ago, I was talking with a couple of Arizona Highway Patrol officers. One was a veteran in his early 40s, the other was a rookie still learning the ropes.

Somehow the conversation got around to real outlaws. The veteran highway patrol officers and I had the same idea about people. We both agreed that there is a little bad in every good person, and a little good in every bad one.

'It's just up to you to find that good,' I said.

'Or bad,' the veteran officer added, grinning.

I know it isn't a good thing to speak ill of the departed. But for the life of me, I was never able to find anything good about Johnny Moss. I agree with W.C. Field that Moss was definitely a thief and a scoundrel. Whether he ever became an occasional gentleman, I'll let that up to the poker world to decide. He certainly never proved it by me.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter. If you have a unique gambling story to share with him, you may qualify for a cash award. Send your story with all the details to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).