Thomas Preston Jr. spent 22 hours to make $60,000 and headlines as "Amarillo Slim" in the 1972 World Series of Poker, then lived a public life of gambling and showmanship until his death Sunday morning.

In private, he was a family man and lover of horses.

"He was a cowboy at heart," said Bunky Preston, his eldest son. "He used poker to make money, but he enjoyed chasing cows."

Slim, 83, had been a patient at Baptist St. Anthony Hospice since April 18.

"The elephant danced around the room for a couple of days, but then he understood his time was running out," said his daughter Becky Deane who complimented the staff. "Those angels in hospice were just amazing."

Even in hospice, he asked Deane to bring his cowboy boots.

"When I asked him why, he said, 'Cause I want to put them on in case I get a chance to ride,'" Deane said.

And that love of horses moved a personal friend to make a dramatic gesture.

"Last Saturday, he took Dad's two horses to hospice," Deane said. "For that sweet man to take it on himself to do that was something. It meant as much to my dad as having his kids there."

He continued to play poker and enjoy fame even as he suffered from medical issues that slowed him down. In a July interview with the Amarillo Globe-News, Slim said he had just returned from Las Vegas and was on his way back to play.

"On the way home on the plane yesterday, I signed 46 decks of cards," he said. "That's all they had."

He was not only famous for playing tournament poker, but for stunts away from the card table such as winning $300,000 playing dominoes with Willie Nelson and riding a camel through a casino in Marrekesh, Morrocco, according to his book "Amarillo Slim in a World of Fat People."

He was also famous for proposition bets where he set up unusual circumstances like winning a pool game with Minnesota Fats using a broom handle or beating Evel Knievel at golf using a hammer for a club.

But poker was a constant. He played many a famous person from President Lyndon Johnson to drug lord Pablo Escobar and pornography king Larry Flynt.

He eventually earned a spot in the Poker Hall of Fame in 1992 for his contributions through playing and tournament promotion.

"I think my dad did for the poker world what Arnold Palmer did for golf," Bunky Preston said. "It's worldwide. He got it out of the dirty, smoky rooms. It's such a huge, billion-dollar business. Little old ladies play, kids play."

But he didn't earn his nickname playing poker.

"It was when he was playing pool when he was younger," Bunky Preston said. "There was Minnesota Fats and South Carolina Bob in the old days and he was Amarillo Slim."

His flamboyant style landed him on talk shows like "The Tonight Show," where his kids got to meet celebrities backstage and a segment about the family on "60 Minutes."

"I think the limelight was detrimental to my father," Bunky Preston said. "He just got thrust into it to the point he was caught up with his image. He changed so much after (winning the World Series) in '72. He was into the image."

But having a gambling father in the spotlight had advantages for his sons and daughter. Son Tod Preston describes himself as a huge Kansas City Chiefs fan as a child. When Slim took him to a Dallas-Kansas City game they ran into sports announcer Howard Cosell, who knew Slim, in a hotel lobby.

"Dad asked if he could ask (Hall of Fame Chiefs quarterback) Len Dawson to come down to meet me," Tod Preston said. "In 10 minutes I was shaking his hand."

While Bunky Preston remembers his father trying to dissuade him from exercising his own pool-playing talents "because your mother doesn't want you to turn out like me," Tod Preston didn't even dabble in the games his father played.

"I can play Go Fish, that's about it," he said. "I don't think I've ever put a nickel in a slot machine."

When he was off the stage, Slim still used his skills.

"He was an extreme psychological profiler. He sought out your strengths and weaknesses," Deane said. "He applied that to us. The more he could embarrass you by doing something like wearing green boots or a suit with dice on it, the more he said it would build character in you."

Some of those incidents with Deane included literally driving her up to the door of her workplace in the snow, taping his hat together in her office even though he could easily afford another and then there was the car with a horn that played "The Eyes of Texas."

Slim had some run-ins with the law in his day for everything from a conviction for transporting liquor without a permit to pleading no contest to three misdemeanor assault charges in 2004 after being indicted for indecency with a child. He served two years probation and paid a $4,000 fine but fervently maintained his innocence.

"He had earlier taken polygraph tests, and the felony charges were dismissed," said his attorney Robert Templeton at the time. "The court said the proof on those charges failed. He pled guilty to three simple assault charges and not a sexual offense."

On the other side of the law, Slim was the victim of several robberies, and his pickup sported several bullet holes as late as last year.

As outrageous as his stunts could be, he'll also be remembered for his wit.

"Look around the table," he wrote in his book. "If you don't see a sucker, get up, because you're the sucker."