In the annals of online poker scandals, few tales rival the outrageousness, audacity, and sheer absurdity of the UltimateBet superuser scandal. What began as whispers in the virtual poker rooms of the early 2000s exploded into one of the most shocking revelations in the history of the game. This is the story of UltimateBet, its meteoric rise, the jaw-dropping scandal that shook it to its core, and the fates of its cast of characters.
The House Always Wins
In the beginning, there was UltimateBet (UB), a sparkling jewel in the burgeoning online poker industry. Launched in 2001, it was an early contender in the Wild West of digital gambling, offering poker enthusiasts around the world a place to compete for glory, cash, and the occasional bad beat story. UB’s branding leaned on its “cool kid” appeal: sleek, daring, and a little bit dangerous. It boasted endorsements from poker celebrities like Phil Hellmuth, the self-styled “Poker Brat,” and “Hollywood” Russ Hamilton, a former World Series of Poker champion.
At first glance, UltimateBet seemed like a poker player’s paradise. Its software was top-notch, and its marketing blitz brought in players in droves. By 2003, the site was a major player in the online poker boom, hosting high-stakes games where fortunes could be won or lost with the turn of a virtual card. And, of course, there was the legendary UltimateBet Aruba Classic, where the poker elite gathered for sun, sand, and stacks of chips. It was the kind of event where you could win a fortune and get a sunburn in the same afternoon.
But beneath the glittering surface lurked a dark secret. For years, some players had felt a creeping sense that something wasn’t quite right. Bad beats were expected in poker, but on UltimateBet, they seemed almost supernatural—a chilling regularity of perfect reads and unerring bets from certain accounts.
Rumors of the Impossible
Poker forums in the mid-2000s were the Twitter of their time: a place where players gathered to swap strategy, complain about bad luck, and share conspiracy theories. And by 2006, one conspiracy theory was gaining traction: UltimateBet might be rigged.
The whispers grew louder in 2007, when a few eagle-eyed players began tracking the play of certain accounts. These accounts didn’t just win; they dominated, making uncanny decisions that seemed statistically improbable. Fold when their opponent had a monster hand. Raise when the bluff was guaranteed to work. Call with the confidence of someone who had memorized the deck.
It wasn’t long before players realized that these accounts had one thing in common: they all belonged to insiders. One account in particular, known as “NioNio,” became the center of the firestorm. NioNio’s performance wasn’t just good—it was otherworldly, with win rates so high they made Phil Ivey look like an amateur. And then there was the legend of Cole South, a poker prodigy who somehow managed to beat the superusers at their own rigged game. South’s heroics became the stuff of online poker folklore, proving that sometimes, the house doesn’t always win.
The Forum Detectives
The revelations didn’t just fall from the sky—they were uncovered thanks to the tenacity of the online poker community. The forum at TwoPlusTwo, a haven for poker enthusiasts, became ground zero for the investigation. Armed with hand histories and spreadsheets, players pooled their collective brainpower to analyze suspicious patterns of play.
One forum poster’s innocuous gripe about suspiciously good opponents snowballed into a full-blown investigation. Members painstakingly reviewed thousands of hands, flagging instances where the superuser accounts made impossibly perfect decisions. Using data analysis and sheer determination, they pieced together a damning portrait of a system designed to cheat its own players.
The final breakthrough came when an insider—perhaps fueled by a guilty conscience, or maybe just bad blood—leaked logs showing the superuser functionality in action. The logs confirmed what the forums had suspected: certain accounts could see all the hole cards. The reaction on TwoPlusTwo was a mixture of vindication, outrage, and some truly spicy memes.
The Superuser Button
The revelation that blew the lid off the scandal came from determined poker sleuths who analyzed hand histories to uncover the impossible win rates. What they found was staggering: NioNio and similar accounts weren’t just lucky; they were cheating. And not just any cheating. These accounts had access to something later dubbed the “superuser” function.
The superuser function allowed its users to see all players’ hole cards in real-time. It was the poker equivalent of knowing everyone’s hand in a game of high-stakes bluffing. Imagine playing Monopoly where you can see everyone’s property cards or competing in Jeopardy! with the answers whispered into your ear. (Or, for the modern audience, imagine browsing someone’s dating profile while also reading their text messages in real-time. It’s creepy, unfair, and probably illegal.)
The smoking gun came when investigators uncovered server logs showing these accounts repeatedly toggling the superuser feature during games. And the cherry on top? This feature was allegedly baked into the software by UltimateBet insiders, including Russ Hamilton himself.
Enter the Regulators
By 2008, the scandal could no longer be ignored. Players were demanding answers, and the Kahnawake Gaming Commission (KGC), a regulatory body based in Canada, launched an investigation. The results were damning: UltimateBet confirmed that Russ Hamilton, the same Russ Hamilton who had been a face of the brand, had orchestrated the scheme.
Hamilton’s involvement was brazen. Not only did he allegedly mastermind the implementation of the superuser function, but he also reportedly handpicked accounts to exploit it. His hubris was legendary: leaked audio from internal meetings revealed Hamilton unapologetically admitting to stealing millions and blaming his actions on “entitlement” and “greed.”
The investigation revealed that Hamilton and his cronies had stolen over $20 million from unsuspecting players over several years. Using the superuser function, they had siphoned money from poker tables like virtual vampires, leaving a trail of devastated bankrolls and broken trust in their wake.
UB’s official response was a masterclass in corporate damage control. They admitted the cheating had occurred, claimed they were “outraged,” and promised to refund affected players. But the damage was done. The site’s reputation was in tatters, and many players abandoned it for good.
The Fallout
So what happened to the players and perpetrators involved in the scandal? Let’s start with Russ Hamilton. Despite being publicly named as the mastermind, Hamilton never faced criminal charges. He retreated to his Florida mansion, maintaining a low profile and an infuriating refusal to apologize. He’s become a pariah in the poker community, but he’s still walking free—a fact that continues to irk players who lost their money to his greed.
Phil Hellmuth, UB’s most visible ambassador during its heyday, managed to emerge relatively unscathed, though not without controversy. Many accused him of turning a blind eye to the scandal, but Hellmuth insisted he had no knowledge of the cheating. Whether you believe him or not, the Poker Brat went on to expand his brand, leaving the UltimateBet debacle in his rearview mirror.
Then there was Mike “The Mouth” Matusow, a poker legend whose personal fallout from the scandal was nothing short of heartbreaking. Matusow publicly claimed that the UltimateBet cheats had shattered his poker confidence and derailed his career. He recounted sleepless nights, questioning his skills and sanity, as his bankroll dwindled from inexplicable losses. The emotional toll was so severe that he said he “almost went crazy.” It was a reminder that cheating in poker doesn’t just rob players of their money; it can steal their peace of mind.
UltimateBet itself didn’t survive the fallout. The site limped along for a few more years before finally shuttering in 2011 amid broader crackdowns on online poker in the United States. Its name is now synonymous with one of the darkest chapters in poker history.
As for the poker world? The UltimateBet scandal, along with a similar debacle at Absolute Poker, prompted sweeping reforms in the online poker industry. Sites implemented stricter security measures, more rigorous oversight, and tools to detect suspicious activity. The Wild West days of online poker were over.
Lessons Learned (Or Not)
The UltimateBet superuser scandal remains a cautionary tale—a reminder of what happens when greed and hubris collide in the digital age. It’s a story of betrayal, but also of resilience: the poker community banded together, exposed the cheaters, and demanded accountability.
Today, online poker is more secure than ever, but the echoes of the UltimateBet scandal still linger. Players continue to ask tough questions about transparency and fairness, refusing to be blindsided again. And while the scammers may have cashed out, the poker world’s collective memory ensures they won’t be dealt back in.
As for the rest of us, we’re left with a story so outrageous it feels like a poker hand gone horribly wrong: pocket aces cracked by a rigged game. And in the end, maybe that’s the ultimate lesson of UltimateBet: even when you think you’ve got the nuts, someone might be holding a superuser card.