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BACKGAMMON'S DAY
The cube changed backgammon in two important ways. First, it forced the game to be played in matches, usually to seven points or more. The longer matches favor stronger players because the dice even out over time. Until this point, each game had been rolled out to its conclusion, but once the cube was introduced, if a player declined a double he then forfeited the point and the pieces returned to their starting positions. Second, the cube raised the stakes of the game — in the most extreme case, turning a one-point game into a 192-point massacre — making each move that much more precious, probability more intricate, and luck less influential. From here, gambling pushed the game toward a singular international scene that was as yet unknown in backgammon’s history.
Though its popularity waned during the Great Depression, Americans became reacquainted with the game throughout the Forties, due in part to celebrity ambassadors. Groucho Marx was an enthusiast, as was Lucille Ball, who would teach the troops how to play on her USO tours during World War II.
In 1964 the game was given its largest stage. The first international backgammon tournament was held in Nassau and attracted premier players and hopeful amateurs who had the coin to enter the pool. The diverse congregation that attended the five-day weekend in the Bahamas found a community of committed players primed for a hip, leisurely and high-stakes fad that would soon be in vogue. The Backgammon World Championship was established in 1976 in Monte Carlo and still carries with it the esteem of its title. All the while, clubs were popping up seemingly from the cracks of city sidewalks.
As backgammon grew in popularity, the crossover of elite players between games became an established trend. Oswald Jacoby and John Crawford, two of modern backgammon’s innovators, both of whom have rules named for them, were elite bridge players in the first half the 20th century. Tim Holland, the world backgammon champion in 1968, 1969 and 1971, could be found at the Cavendish Bridge Club on the Upper East Side on a daily basis. Bob Hill, a seasoned player with seven stints at Monte Carlo, discussed with me the gravitation toward backgammon. “There were a lot of people who played bridge whose reward was that they got points, but backgammon gave you money when you played in the tournaments,” he says. “So your best backgammon players were your best bridge players.”
For the generation of backgammon players that followed Jacoby and Crawford, the trend of switching games in search of higher stakes has continued. Poker has become the game of choice for both Paul Magriel, a legend who wrote a weekly backgammon article for the New York Times in the Seventies and who famously beat George Plimpton blindfolded in a publicity game, and Bill Robertie, another giant on the backgammon scene who has won two world championships. Robertie, who has won the US Speed Chess Tournament as well, just put out his third volume of Harrington on Hold ’Em, a book on poker strategy that he co-wrote with ex-world champion Dan Harrington.
Before crossing over, Magriel, and Robertie made significant impacts in backgammon. In the Seventies, they published some of the most strategic, statistically advanced books ever written on the game, including Magriel’s classic Backgammon, which is considered “the bible of backgammon.”
In 1973, the New York Times Book of Backgammon came out with a foreword by Oswald Jacoby. Vanity Fair’s Backgammon to Win was published in 1974. Hugh Hefner, who found the game a suitable fit for both his reputation and lifestyle, had Lewis Deyong, a very competitive player, write Playboy’s Book of Backgammon in 1977.
Bob Hill also described to me the era of high rollers and the etiquette the scene demanded. “Backgammon was quite dignified. At the tournaments people were dressed formally in suits and ties. In fact, if you went to a tournament and were not dressed in the manner they described, you would be turned away.” Travel expenses aside, tournament fees ranged from three hundred dollars up into the thousands. Hill told me about a tournament where the grand prize was $300,000, and a player had to pony up $10,000 just to take a seat. Of course, that was the main attraction, but players made side bets on money matches and played chouettes, a multiplayer backgammon variant with as many cubes as players, sometimes gambling at hundreds of dollars per point, straight through the night until the next day’s round began.
With all the money floating around the game, high-end clubs started opening up, which in turn attracted the sharks. At the Ace Point Club, an Upper East Side haven for the world’s elite players in the Eighties and Nineties, hustlers made their mark. As Hill recounts, “They [the hustlers] would learn a little about the game and then go into the clubs and try to find a pigeon.” He describes a day at the Ace Point where an acquaintance found his opponent controlling the dice with a magnet hidden beneath the table. “This guy was beating some of the best players in the world, and nobody realized he was using his own dice and magnets.”
The Ace Point Club, following the players, converted to poker in 2004 and was raided by the NYPD two years later for illegal gambling. In 2005, I showed up there with a friend looking for a backgammon game. We passed the first floor security guard and rode the elevator to the top floor. The doors opened to a small waiting room, where the club attendant was hidden behind a bulletproof window and a locked entrance. “We’re looking for a backgammon game,” I said. He asked us to leave. “We’re just looking for a little action,” I insisted. He called the floor boss over to the window. He told us that backgammon wasn’t played at the club anymore, and either way we couldn’t gain entrance without a formal invitation from a member. “Do you know where we can find a game?” I asked. His eyes squinted in annoyance, “Backgammon is dead, now get the fuck out.”