I've been away from poker for a couple of years. I've been hearing rumors again that Blackie died (these seem to circulate every few years).

What's the scoop? Is Blackie still around?

Paging Johnny Hughes...

Anybody know if Blackie is still with us?

What a character if I am thinking of the same Blackie, is this the same Blackie who was good friends with Garland Walters?

still playing 3 card brag on the missisippi express with two notes Tammie and 4 finger Francis.

Blackie passed away in Calf. several years ago. After he died Bob Ciafone wrote an article in CardPlayer about him. If not mistaken it was 3 years ago. Blackie was good friends with Garland and the original '80's PLO crew at the Golden Nugget.

http://www.cardplayer.com/cardplayer...-omaha-origins

RIP Blackie

Like I said Blackie was a character, him and Garland loved to come into the book I was working in at the time and play the horses all the time.

Thanks for the update.

I suspected that Blackie had passed on, since I hadn't seen him anywhere in the past few years. Now I see why I couldn't find him with Google and/or ite:cardplayer.com: Bob (who I knew very well) used the spelling "Blackey".

I dealt the tournament circuit, including whatever was at the Horseshoe, from the very early 1990s until the WSOP left the 'Shoe in 2004. At the Series, there would usually be at least PLO game going 24/7, and several others at higher blinds running at various points of the day. Blackie and Garland were generally in the same game: find one, and you'd find the other. They were usually in the smallest-blind game. They could afford to play higher, but the smaller game was usually softer.

At some point in time, Blackie had major health issues: I believe it was heart-related. He recovered from this, but he wasn't as cantankerous or feisty as he had been---he tried to be, but he was keenly aware of the consequences of getting carried away, and it held him back.

Blackie still had his moments, though. I was dealing a $10-25 PLO game one night at the WSOP. In it was a man I'll call "Mr. Rude"; this man was one of the most abbrasive players I've known (he would make the legendary "Frenchman" look as polite as Perry Green). He was also the "live one", times ten, having equal amounts of ineptitude and cash (as I remember, he was a bigwig of some sort in New York) and the waiting list was 50-long for any game he was in during the two WSOP and one Hall of Fame tournament I saw him at. The man refused to play higher than 10-25, but he still managed to drop several million every tournament. He wasn't a live one with dealers, though; he rarely tipped, never more than a dollar---but he was very generous with abuse, which he handed out whenever he lost a hand (which was often). Of course, Garland and Blackie were usually in the same game as Mr. Rude.

At the time in question, about 11:00 at night, Garland had already gone for the day, but Blackie was still there, hiding behind a mountain of checks, probably garnished from Mr. Rude and whoever else was silly enough to be involved in the pot when Blackie made his move. Three of the nine players were absent. Mr. Rude greeted me when I sat down, reminding me that I dealt him out of $5,000 the previous night. I managed to deal him out of another $500 the first hand, and I was rewarded for my efforts with a white-bird from the winner (which was reasonable for that game, time, and player) and four flat missiles aimed at my fingers (which was customary for Mr. Rude), accompanied by the usual profanity.

My policy for abusive players depends on their playing skill. I took (and take) zero abuse from abusive skillful players, but I tend to take a lot of abuse from abusive bad players or abusive players on tilt. The best punishment for such people is to let them keep playing and losing, and I don't want to take money out of the pockets of the skillful and (generally well-mannered) pros and better players. So I let Mr. Rude do as he pleased.

Two hands later, Mr. Rude went all-in against another player, a very nice man named Steve who wasn't a great player but who was always well-mannered and who was very generous with the dealers. with about $5,000 in the pot, and the players turned over their cards. He had a small wrap-straight and flush draw against the other player's top set. The turn and river don't make either for him, but they backdoor him a flush in another suit. Mr. Rude didn't know what he'd made, and he got up from the table, swore like a sailor at me, and ordered me to save his seat until he went to the box for more ammo. Had I mucked Mr. Rude's hand, I would have easily gotten a greenbird from Steve. Out of habit (and because I'm supposed to), I announced the flush and pushed the pot towards Mr. Rude. He was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered and pulled in the pot. Nothing came my way.

Blackie needled Mr. Rude. "Aren't you going to throw the dealer anything?"

"No," answered Mr. Rude, "why should I?"

"He just pushed you a big fat pot you didn't know you won," Blackie retorted.

"So?" Mr. Rude replied. "That's his job."

Mr. Rude looked through his checks, found an old beat-up whitebird, and tossed it towards me. "I shouldn't give you or any other dealer a dime," he said. "All of you dealers are clueless idiots. I doubt any of you graduated from high school."

I'd had enough of the man. I picked up the toke, opened the rake slot, and casually dropped it in. "There now, feel better?" I asked him.

That got a lecture from Mr. Rude about wasting money, a tirade that went on for about three minutes. He calmed down when he picked up four cards that he liked. He quickly got all-in against the same player (Steve). They laid their cards over. With a flop of Qs-Jc-2d rainbow, Steve had Qh Qd 8h 8s, a set of queens and no redraws. Mr. Rude had As-Kc-10s-3c, a wrap on the top, with two backdoor flush draws and a backdoor wheel draw.

While this was going on, a huge pot was being played at the next table, between Billy O'Donnel, Pete of Alaskan Pipeline fame, and another player. Everybody except Blackie and the two contestants got up to look at the other game. Meanwhile, Steve and Mr. Rude decided to have me put up just the turn. It was a 5c, giving Mr. Rude a flush draw and a small gutshot straight to hit. Steve asked if Mr. Rude wanted to split the pot (a good idea, as Rude had, I believe, 23 outs for the river).

Mr. Rude said he didn't want to do business, since, he recited, any Ace, King, Ten, Nine, or club would make him a winner. "But don't worry," he assured Steve, "This (censored) will find a way to beat me."

It wasn't lost on me that Mr. Rude had failed to mention that a 4 also worked. As though on script, the 4s came up on the river, making Mr. Rude his bicycle and belatedly giving him another four-flush.

Mr. Rude pounded the table in anger. "Now you see why I don't ever tip these (censored) dealers?" he told Blackie.

I wrestled with my ethics. Nobody else was paying attention to this game, as the pot at the next table had gotten much bigger. Only Blackie, Mr. Rude, and Steve were seated; nobody else was watching us. In the end, pushing Mr. Rude the pot won out----until I caught Blackie's eye. He narrowed his eyes at me and almost imperceptibly shook his head a little.

Mr. Rude had already gotten up from the table. "I'm going to the cage," he announced. "And if I'm lucky," he looked at me stonily, as though I were a cockroach, "you'll be gone when I get back. Maybe you'll drop dead. I hope so." He stormed off.

After Mr. Rude was past the rail and on his way to the cage, I casually took his winning hand, shoved it face-down into the muck, and pushed Steve---who of course knew what Mr. Rude had----about $10,500 in chips.

Steve reached for a couple of large checks, but Blackie, without moving his head, said tersely: "Don't throw him more than a redbird (the 'Shoe's $5 checks were actually blue then). I'll take him the rest later." Of course, Blackie didn't want Steve to throw me anything big, in case Surveillance was watching (back then, cameras weren't on every game). Steve caught it quickly and tossed me a redbird.

The big pot at the other table had finished (with Billy O. winning it) and the other players sat back down. A few minutes later, Mr. Rude came back with ten yellowbirds ($10,000). As Mr. Rude sat down, Blackie started cackling in that high-pitched way that he did when something amused him. "Hee hee hee!" he giggled, looking Mr. Rude straight in the eye. "Hee hee hee hee hee!"

"What's so funny?" Mr. Rude growled at Blackie.

"You don't toke the dealers," Blackie cackled, then got caught up in mirth again. "Hee hee hee hee!"

"So?" challenged Mr. Rude. "What's so funny about that?"

"Hee hee hee!" Blackie continued cackling, "And you won't get even with THAT for the rest of your life! Hee hee hee hee hee!"

Mr. Rude looked around. "Anybody know what he's on about?"

Nobody except Steve, Blackie, and I had any idea, and Mr. Rude got blanks from the table.

At this point, the next dealer tapped me out. "Don't look at me," I told Mr. Rude as I got up and moved on. "I'm just a clueless idiot."

On my next break, Blackie came over to me with two blackbirds, courtesy of Steve. I asked him to thank Steve for me.

Steve went back East the next morning, but Blackie was there every day, as usual. For the rest of that World Series, whenever I sat down at his table, he'd start cackling again, and it would go on for about half a minute. Often as not, Mr. Rude was there, and the man never figured out what all the hilarity was about. Just as well.

Another well known old-time cheat passes.

I am Blackie's niece. He moved from Las Vegas and came back to his birth state of Oklahoma where he passed away on May 4, 2007. He is buried at Sunnylane Cemetary in Del City, Oklahoma. He died from heart related problems. He got married to a lady from the Phillipines after he moved back to Oklahoma. Married a young one and still was a cocky old man to the end. He was still playing poker to the very very end. Still remember that laugh at his and the old stories he had to tell which including his times playing poker and the people he played with. Never forgot the time he took my father with him to a poker game and there was a shoot out in the old days. My dad never went with him again. In the end, he was trying to teach me how to play Blackjack and gave me a deal of cards and taught me how to ripoff the slot machines but told me to not do it now because I would get busted. A quarter on a string..lol! Anyway, read your posts on my uncle and just wanted to let everyone know that Blackie has passed but he is now playing Blackjack in heaven. Never forget the time he gave a man some viagra and the man used it and passed away the same night. Ole Blackie said the man had rip him off in a game a few days before that and he said it was probably karma paying him back. Anyway, Blackie gambled to the very end. Just wanted everyone to know he has passed on.

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