Phil Hellmuth Sinks A Basketball
The time I lost ten bottles of scotch to Phil Hellmuth | by Todd Anderson
The greatest clutch basketball shot I ever saw was not made by a basketball player. It was made by Phil Hellmuth, a professional poker player.
It all started at a steakhouse in Pittsburgh after a day of filming Poker Night in America. A group of poker players and I were finishing dinner when Hellmuth started boasting about his jump shot and how he could hit a decent percentage of three point shots, like 30 percent or something.
Doug Polk called bullshit on Hellmuth, a man in his fifties who claimed he could shoot threes at a percentage most NBA players can’t achieve. At the time Doug and Phil were in some sort of poker fame “dick measuring” contest. Phil was the GOAT (still is IMO), and Doug was this very smart, very talented up and comer in the poker content world.
Phil and Doug start discussing a wager because of course, that’s what poker players do. They settle their differences with uncomfortably high wagers.
Eventually it was decided that Phil would take a shot. One shot. No practice shots. Just one shot. For all the marbles. And there were marbles. Ten thousands marbles to be exact. The wager was thus: Phil Hellmuth, at 2am, after a day of playing poker, and a night of drinking scotch, would take one shot. One shot. Ten to one odds on $1000.
At that point, in true Phil Hellmuth fashion, he challenged the rest of the table by giving us the same odds.
He had no chance so I jumped into the fray with a different offer.
“I’ll lay ten bottles of Macallan to your one,” I offered.
“Book it!” said the poker brat with a grin. He loves Macallan. He’d already paid me with a bottle earlier in the week from a different bet. I was 100 percent sure I’d be adding to my Macallan collection.
After that, the action started pouring in against Phil and before long he had made thousands in bets with everyone at the table.
The bets were in. The restaurant was closed. It was 1am. We’re in downtown Pittsburgh. One problem. Where are we going to get a basketball at this time of night?
The dick measuring continued.
“I bet I can get us a basketball in 30 minutes,” said Phil. “One tweet from me and I’ll have us a ball.”
Of course Doug couldn’t resist accepting a new challenge, by proclaiming his legion of fans would deliver HIM a basketball before one of Hellmuth’s fans.
Tweets were made, drinks were ordered (they let us stay after hours), and we waited to see who could get a random fan to deliver a basketball to a steakhouse at 1am on a rainy night in Pittsburgh.
Doug won that bet. We had a basketball 10 minutes later. Some dude shows up with a grin on his face and a Spalding in his hands. He got an invite to the proceedings which he giddily accepted. Now there’s a guy with a story.
Now we needed to find a hoop. We asked the wait staff where we might find a basketball hoop at 1am. The waiter said there was a park about a mile away but he didn’t recommend going at that time of night.
Fuck it. We’re gamblers.
So we round up two Ubers and pile six poker players, me, and some random dude who was out drinking that night and had access to Twitter and a basketball, and headed to a dangerous part of Pittsburgh to find a hoop.
Upon arrival we were horrified to realize all the basketball hoops were missing the actual hoops. Believe it or not the park removes the hoop from the backboards every night to prevent theft. Who knew?
It looked like the night might be over without resolving the bet. Then, as if by divine intervention, poker pro Shaun Deeb discovered a portable basketball hoop wedged behind a building in the park. Next thing you know we’re dragging this free standing basketball hoop out of It’s hiding spot and setting it up.
The moment of truth was upon us. It’s now 2am, dark, with a heavy mist in the air. At that point Phil proclaims this bet is based on a college range three pointer
WHAT?!?!
This sets off a whole flurry of debate about the three point shot. We never actually determined whether this was going to be an NBA three pointer or from college range.
Now we’re at an impasse and it finally gets settled Rock, Paper, Scissors style. Phil wins.
Since the whole debate was about NBA shooting percentages, I naturally assumed we were talking NBA range, but not to worry. Under these condition, no warm up, one shot, raining, copious scotch on board? There’s no way! We paced off about 21 feet, while Phil held the ball under his shirt to keep it dry.
Finally! Let’s get this over with and go to bed. Phil eyeballed the rim, dribbled once, twice, and launched. SWISH……..
There was an eruption. Phil started running around like Jim Valvano after winning the NCAA National Championship (google it). It was bedlam. We were stunned. I was stunned. It was one those moments in life where it’s like “did that really just happen?!”
To add insult to injury Phil, after celebrating, and to show us all it wasn’t a fluke, grabbed the ball, dribbled once, twice, launched…..Air Ball! FML.
That’s Phil Hellmuth for you. The dude just has a mystical quality about him. Lesson learned. Don’t bet against a guy who claims to possess “white magic.” And if you do, let him have a practice shot because he’ll use up all his mojo on the first one.