High Profile: Bob Hamman Eleven-time world bridge champion Bob Hamman worked hard to master the game he loves, but he's not shy about giving some credit to the intangibles. By JOYCE SÁENZ HARRIS / The Dallas Morning News Bob Hamman is an 11 time world chamption at contract bridge. Photo by Alison V. Smith/DMN Dallas, TX – April 25, 2004 – Bob Hamman likes to quote Damon Runyon's theory of gambling: "The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong — but that's the way to bet." And if some nameless Chinese sage hadn't beaten him to it, Mr. Hamman himself could have written the corollary maxim: "If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time. "At Dallas-based SCA Promotions Inc., that's what Bob Hamman does, venturing millions of dollars while playing the role of "the house." His business is risk management — meaning that for a cut, SCA insures payout on games of luck or skill for promotional contest sponsors such as Coca-Cola or Frito-Lay. This is something like being a bookie, except it's a $35 million insurance business that's all legal and aboveboard. No legs get broken. Those peel-and-win gimmicks on fast-food soda cups? Those fans trying for million-dollar basketball shots from half-court? Bob Hamman's the man who sets the rules and figures the odds — and, in the event of a lucky longshot, pays off the big winner. Which is, of course, something that he always hopes he never really has to do, given the odds. That's his day job. But Mr. Hamman is far better known for his longtime mastery of contract bridge, as an 11-time world champion who was one of the internationally famed "Dallas Aces." He has been the World Bridge Federation's top-ranked Grand Master player since 1985, making him the Babe Ruth of bridge. "That takes an unbelievable mind," says Warren Buffett, chairman of Berkshire Hathaway in Omaha, Neb., and a friend of Mr. Hamman's. "I could have started playing bridge when I was a 3-year-old, and worked at it every day of my life, and I wouldn't be fit to sort his cards." Not that Mr. Hamman actually does sort his cards, a fact well-known by Mr. Buffett and the entire bridge world. Bob Hamman's unruffled ability to play bridge like a human computer and not sort his hand is just one of the things that makes his opponents crazy. Says his wife, Petra Hamman, "It's amazing that nobody's been able to catch him." It will probably happen someday, she says; after all, "there are some awfully good younger players" coming up, especially from Europe. And even the Babe's home-run record was surpassed after many years. Mr. Hamman is an affable man who wears his No. 1 status lightly. "I don't think it's a burden," Mrs. Hamman says. "I think he enjoys it. It's an achievement. "He loves bridge. It's the most wonderful game, all around, if you want a mental challenge." 'It's like a war' In the bridge world, Bob Hamman is considered a master of strategy, a fiercely competitive veteran. At that national and international level, bridge takes "endurance and teamwork. It's like a war, if you will," says Don Krauss, a Beverly Hills stockbroker who partnered Mr. Hamman in winning the Vanderbilt Knockout Team title 40 years ago. "Bob's extremely competitive, like all top players. He never gets tired of winning." But even at his elite level of the sport, you win some and you lose some. "There is," Mr. Krauss says, "an element of luck, even in tournaments." Last November, Mr. Hamman and the six-man "USA1" team (who've dubbed themselves "The Gods of Odds") narrowly defeated Italy in the world contract-bridge championships, known as the "Bermuda Bowl," in Monte Carlo. It was Mr. Hamman's 11th world title. Four months later, he was in Reno, Nev., for 10 days in March, playing in the American Contract Bridge League's Spring Nationals. This time, Mr. Hamman's top-seeded team (captained by his pal Nick Nickell of New York City) lost their Vanderbilt Knockout Team semifinals in a heartbreaker of a game, with an eight-deal playoff that was decided by a mere two IMPs (international match points, used in tournament scoring) in the last deal of the match. And so it goes. "As in any sport, you lose more than you win," says Petra Hamman. Mr. Hamman — who relaxed after the loss in Reno with a half-hour at the blackjack tables — remains philosophical. "As far as I have been able to determine, it is not possible to change the past. The best that anyone can do is learn from past events," he says. "Hopefully, we will be better in the future. " In the cards He grew up in Southern California's San Fernando Valley, the child of middle-class parents. Just after World War II, at age 7, he came down with rheumatic fever. In those days, "the treatment for it was to kind of drown you in very restricted activity," Mr. Hamman says. So he stayed indoors, learned chess and card games and became fascinated by them. By age 8 or 9, Bob was sitting in on his father's poker games. Bob played canasta, gin rummy and other card games, too, but not bridge, not yet. By age 10 or 12, he was "pretty good at chess," and in high school he became "a very serious" player. Unfortunately, his obsession with chess meant that "by senior year, my grades went totally to hell." Even so, Bob aced his SATs and went to Occidental College in Los Angeles on a full scholarship. "It took me a year to blow it," he says, and Occidental predictably yanked his scholarship. So a friend persuaded Bob to join UCLA's chess team, and in 1957, they won the Southern California chess championships. The same friend introduced Bob to contract bridge. Bob lost his first bridge game but emerged "fascinated, and enraged that these palookas could beat me." He began studying the art of bridge, determined not to let them beat him again. Thus he spent the next 5 1/2 years at UCLA, a slacker ahead of his time. "I never finished a class," Mr. Hamman says. "I'd hang out at the student union, Kerckhoff Hall, and play bridge, chess and the odd poker game." He did, however, work swing-shift jobs at Douglas Aircraft and North American Rockwell. After a few more years of classes at San Fernando Valley State, he got within three credits of a mathematics degree. To feed his passion, he'd stay up playing bridge till 3 or 4 a.m., drag into work at 7 a.m., "be comatose most of the morning and prop myself up with coffee." "Each day I'd make a vow: 'Never again.' " But he won his first major national bridge championship in 1962. Risk-taker Mr. Hamman, with his talent for gauging actuarial risk, entered the insurance business in Los Angeles. In 1966, he married a woman who was also a serious bridge player. (They later divorced.) His son, Christopher, now works with his dad as SCA's chief risk analyst. Meanwhile, Ira Corn, a top Midwestern player, moved to Dallas in 1968 to organize and bankroll a bridge team with professional coaching. Mr. Hamman "didn't think Ira's idea would work," and he declined Mr. Corn's first invitation to join his team. But later, Mr. Hamman saw Mr. Corn's team play at the international team trials, and marveled: "The improvement was absolutely dramatic." The next time Mr. Corn approached him, Mr. Hamman accepted. "I really wanted to win a world championship," he says, "So I thought, 'Go for it.' " Mr. Hamman moved to Dallas in January 1969 to become one of Ira Corn's Dallas Aces. He stayed in the insurance business — and in May 1970 he had his first world championship, a feat the Aces repeated in 1971. The original team disbanded by 1974, but the Aces stayed in existence for almost another decade. Mr. Hamman and Bobby Wolff formed the hub of the group, while other members came and went. The Aces' last time to play together — and win — was in 1983. A partner Bob and Petra Hamman met on the bridge circuit long before they married, 17 years ago. Petra, who came to Dallas from Michigan, is herself a former women's world champion bridge player — and, her husband says, "probably Dallas' best bridge teacher." The two of them often play in local and regional pairs tournaments, more rarely at the national level. Mrs. Hamman says she can't imagine her husband marrying someone who didn't share his love for bridge. Shortly after the Dallas Aces broke up for good, Mr. Hamman came up with the idea that became SCA Promotions, as a logical outgrowth of his insurance expertise. He began with a five-person office and $100,000 in sales. Today SCA has 100 employees, $35 million in sales, and offices in Calgary, London and Munich as well as Dallas. Mr. Hamman says he doesn't know why some ventures succeed and some fail. "Much could be ascribed to luck," he says, "which is, of course, random events." However, he believes that "luck falls within predicated intervals — there's a probability distribution." Still, it doesn't hurt to love your work, or to be smart and work hard.