For many years, I was in the sporting goods business. Warm-ups or jogging suits were a big part of my business. I sold many of my poker buddies and others warm-ups when I came to town for a tournament. My wife summed it up best when we were watching a WSOP final table where over half the players had on my warm-ups. "You may not be remembered for your play," she opined accurately, "but you have had a significant effect on poker fashion."
During the 1992 World Series of Poker, top tournament player John Bonetti was looking over my selections and he was very interested in a beautiful, but expensive ($155), warm-up for his wife. After some deliberation, he decided to wait and possibly get it later. I suggested that I trade him the warm-up for a piece of him in that day's seven-card stud high-low tournament. The tournament entry fee was $1550-the $155 cost of the warm-up was exactly 10 percent of his entry fee.
But I offered to take only seven percent, since a discount seemed warranted based on his outstanding tournament record. In his own "Bono" style-he considered, he calculated, he talked to himself, and he finally turned down my offer, "Fuggedaboudit. It's not going to happen."
As fate would have it, later that day I was seated next to him at the start of the 195-player tournament. I offered the trade on the warm-up to him again-and again he passed. The first two hours of the tournament John won very few pots and lost half his initial chips.
At this point, the players received a ten-minute tournament break. John caught up with me as I headed outside for some fresh air. He said in his own inimitable style, "Hey big guy, still want to trade for that warm-up?" I smiled and pondered his offer. Considering his position was substantially worse than when I made the offer, I thought of negotiating a better deal or better yet responding "Fuggedaboudit, It's not going to happen." On the other hand, I had a very good feeling about Bono's chances. I decided that stuffing my ego away and leaving a little on the negotiating table was okay and said "Sure John, even though you're a little low on chips, you're always a threat to win."
John won a big pot on the first hand after the break with aggressive and brilliant play. Shortly thereafter, he showed the other well-known Bono trait-amazing luck at crucial times. In a hand against Eskimo Clark, Bono started with A-B-C and Eskimo check-raised him on third and fourth streets with rolled up sixes. Bono picked up a useless nine and ten on fourth and fifth streets. Eskimo got a deuce and trey. On fifth street Eskimo bet all-in and Bono thought for several minutes before calling. John later explained that he only called because Eskimo was all in and he felt the pot odds just barely justified it. A miracle four and five came to make a wheel and eliminate Eskimo who failed to fill up. There was no stopping him after that. At about 3 a.m.
only Bono and two less experienced players remained. However, Bono had only 26 percent of all the chips, while his opponents each had about 37 percent. At that point, they took a break to discuss a deal to split the prize money. If they made no deal and played to the end, first place would get $100,000; second place would receive $50,000; and third place would get $25,000.
When the meeting was over, John came over to me smiling and said, "I told them I was the best player and even if I had less chips, I wanted an even three way split of all the money or they could 'Fuggedaboudit. It's, not going to happen.' They took it." John's playing and great negotiating skills had given me my most profitable warm-up sale ever-$4000.
