Actor Lou Diamond Phillips has seen Hollywood through the lens of his Monday night poker games.
Imagine the setting. It’s the late ’80s-early ’90s and a revolving door of actors, stuntman, and assorted Hollywood types congregate Monday nights in the San Fernando Valley home of actor Lou Diamond Phillips. David Schwimmer shows up regularly. Brad Pitt makes an appearance. George Clooney stops by. Jason Priestly and Brandon Lee come by for a game.
Some win, some break even, and a few lose their shirts as they play the quarter games and share their script misadventures and audition fiascos. At this moment, with the possible exception of host Phillips, they’re all nobodies.
“That game has been going on for 16 years, if not a little bit more,” says Phillips, who still hosts the Monday night games at his home. “It’s been kind of a rotating game.” While the original cast of characters has changed over the years–Pitt and Clooney don’t stop by anymore–the latest crop of players might be even more colorful.
Phillips’ poker buddies today include assorted out-of-work actors, stuntmen, Olympic skier Klaus Heidegger, a German Baron, and Dennis Haskins, best known as Mr. Belding from TV’s Saved By the Bell. Good friend and 24 star Keifer Sutherland doesn’t play, but Phillips is a fixture at the regular Wednesday night games of 24 creator Joe Surnow. On any given Hollywood night, he doesn’t have to look far to find a game.
“You could play every night if you wanted,” says Phillips. “There is the Commerce Casino. You can pop in any night and play against one of the superstars of poker. Dave Schwimmer has his own home game now. So does Tobey Maguire.”.
Sure, these games are always a marquee opportunity to practice the grand traditions of male bonding. But as with anything in Hollywood, networking opportunities abound. Phillips has seen it firsthand for almost two decades. Where a lot of people “in the industry” once closed deals over cigars and brandy at the nearest golf club bar, poker tables are where execs now do lunch.
“It’s basically become the new golf,” says Phillips. “You can sit there and be chatting away and find out about this thing going on or that thing. And because you’re poker buddies with someone, they tend to look a little more kindly on you. Unless of course you take their money.”
With numerous appearances at the World Poker Tour’s Celebrity Invitational, Lou Diamond Phillips isn’t your typical bandwagoning poker dilettante. That Phillips is originally from Texas helps his table image, but he admits that it doesn’t bring anything more to the table than mystique.
In the past few years, Phillips has become a consistent presence at tables everywhere. Whether competing in the Hollywood Home Game or the WPT’s Celebrity Invitational, he’s never too far from any California poker tournament. But he’s not just another celebrity trying to sneak his way into the limelight suddenly surrounding poker.
The man’s from Texas, after all, and has been playing his home game long enough to know a fish from a sucker. Never mind the occasional tournament he’ll play in up and down the California coast, not to mention his regular presence at tournaments in Aruba and Tunica.
It took him a while, but Lou Diamond Phillips has finally earned his poker stripes among pros and amateurs alike. “When they see me show up for other events, especially events that are outside Los Angeles,” he says. “They know that I’m serious about the game.”
Away from the WPT, he can’t go a week without playing and considers Scotty Nguyen, TJ Cloutier, and Phil Laak not just mentors, but peers. Peers that tend to take most of his money, mind you. “It’s really nice because I so admire those guys and their play,” he says. “It’s a little intimidating to sit down at a table with them, but if you catch the cards and you play them well anybody can win any game.”
With that scrutinizing eye and his passion for the game, Lou Diamond Phillips can appreciate the sting of a bad beat as well as anyone. One bad beat in Aruba left him so disillusioned, he wrote a screenplay about it. He plans on directing the script once he secures the necessary funding.
Playing in Aruba with a J–9 and the big blind limping in, the flop revealed a jack and two hearts. “He’s got pocket queens. Boom, I hit a jake on the turn. Somebody behind me goes, ‘he did it again.’ The guy in the big blind is literally standing up shaking his head,” he remembers. “He is about to turn away from the table when the river falls, it’s a queen. The hotel was two miles away. I didn’t want to get a cab, I just had to shake it off. So I took a two-mile walk on the beach just to try to calm down. That was a tough one.”
Apparently you never forget your worst beat, even in Hollywood.