OPINION: Six Billion Dollar Man [Tulsa World, Okla.]

Sept. 29--In late June, a Philadelphia federal judge called former Tulsan Layn Phillips in London while he was watching Wimbledon -- to talk football. Would he, she asked, mediate the sprawling and contentious NFL players' concussion litigation?

Phillips isn't afraid to chase a long shot. He held two high-profile political appointments and he got there on merit alone. At 39, he walked away from lifetime security as a federal judge to look for more personally satisfying pursuits. And now, at 61, he specializes in what many might consider a most un-lawyerly effort -- terminating litigation rather than perpetuating litigation.

What Phillips didn't know when he got U.S. District Judge Anita Brody's call was that both sides had recommended him.

"Whether I was playing tight end on the Memorial High School football team or collegiate tennis at the University of Tulsa, never did I see myself as a neutral presiding over complicated disputes, much less a dispute with such an impact on this most important of American sports," Phillips said recently during a visit to Tulsa.

Judge Brody had another surprise for Phillips, who settled $6 billion in litigation last year and $3 billion so far in 2013: Brody told him he couldn't play the long game. As special master in charge of settlement, he only had until Sept. 3 to resolve hundreds of lawsuits by 4,500 former NFL players, claiming long-term debilitating head injuries.

The challenge

"I was very pleased but immediately recognized the challenge," said Phillips, who on July 3 officially was appointed to one of the most intense jobs in America.

"...I disappeared into a black hole. I basically had two months," said Phillips, to get a cast of thousands to come to agreement.

He did it, six days shy of the mandatory deadline. On Aug. 29, parties announced a $765 million settlement.

ESPN's chief legal analyst called Phillips a "hero" for closing the deal and bringing scores of lawyers, thousands of players, 32 team owners and insurance companies together in a highly complicated dispute.

The settlement was yet another achievement in Phillips' 36-year career as prosecutor, federal judge, trial attorney and top mediator.

The outcome

The league agreed to fund medical exams, concussion-related compensation, a program of medical and safety research and some legal expenses.

The outcome has not been without controversy with some claiming that the money could run out for players faced with future medical problems and bills, and that the league failed to take responsibility for injuries common in a dangerous sport.

"There was no rush to judgment here," Phillips said. "To their credit, both sides recognized that it would be far more productive to get out of court and do something good for retired players with medical needs and focus on the future of the game and making it safer.

"The alternative was for the two sides to spend the next 10 years and millions of dollars on litigation, which would have been great for lawyers, expert witnesses, trial consultants and others. But it would not do much for retired players and their families who are in need," he said.

Afterward, Phillips dropped out of sight, following a court order not to discuss details of the settlement.

He returned to Southern California, home for him, his wife Kathryn, also a TU law graduate, and their three children, all actors. Their youngest son, Graham, plays Zach Florrick on the CBS series, "The Good Wife."

Phillips also returned to mediating other high-stakes litigation. He's been a partner in the law firm of Irell & Manella since 1991.

The NFL case actually was an unusual one for him after spending the past few years dealing with the aftermath of the financial crisis. He's brokered publicly disclosed settlements in some of the biggest cases arising out of the collapse, a list that reads like the evening news: the Bank of America/ Merrill Lynch merger dispute, $2.4 billion; AIG, United Healthcare, Citigroup, Bear Stearns, Washington Mutual, Wells Fargo, JP MorganChase, and the list goes on.

(He also brokered a settlement in the Wal-Mart consolidated wage and hour class action lawsuits.)

Collecting quarters

His work now, for which he's handsomely rewarded, is a quantum leap from his first big job back in 1970: Collecting quarters during the evenings from players at the new LaFortune Park Tennis Center.

Center director and local tennis legend Charlie Cunningham hired him even though Phillips didn't play competitive tennis and had never had a lesson.

"I was a junior in high school. I desperately needed a job, given the modest background I came from," Phillips said.

His new boss took an interest in his young employee, teaching him the sport. Soon Phillips was teaching alongside Cunningham and getting very good at the game.

Phillips considers the job, which he kept for seven years, the first of two big breaks he received, both in his hometown.

Cunningham recommended him for an NCAA scholarship to TU, where Phillips became a Missouri Valley Conference No. 1 singles champion, and an academic standout, receiving an economics degree. Cunningham also recommended him for a post-graduate NCAA scholarship to law school. Again, Phillips returned the favor by finishing at the top of his TU class.

"In short, Charlie taught me a game I came to love and life skills I could never repay," said Phillips in a eulogy to his mentor, who died, at 89, in November.

"Later in life, when I was asked to provide personal character references, Charlie was the No. 1 reference on everything I applied for, including a lifetime appointment to the federal judiciary."

Return to Tulsa

Phillips' second big break came in late 1983 when he was appointed U.S. attorney for the Northern District of Oklahoma. At 31, he was the youngest person in the nation to hold that job -- and still was the youngest when he left at 35. During his 3 1/2-year tenure, he prosecuted a string of high-profile drug and white-collar, public corruption cases.

His skills ultimately caught the attention of then-U.S. Sen. Don Nickles, who recommended him for a federal judgeship in Oklahoma City, and President Ronald Reagan later nominated Phillips.

The jobs of U.S. attorney and federal judge, required political appointments, but they went to a man who says he'd "never given $10 to a political campaign."

In 1987, shortly after his Senate confirmation, I interviewed Phillips as he prepared to leave the job in Tulsa. He declined to predict his future, saying, "It will be nice to focus on the academic side of the law and work quietly in chambers instead of in a fish bowl.

"This is a lifetime appointment, but how do you say, 'I know what I'll be doing 10, 20 or 30 years from now?'"

Now he knows, and so much for staying out of the fish bowl.

He resigned his judgeship, at 39, in 1991. At 61, he entertains no other aspirations than to continue as a mediator. The idea, say, of applying his skills in the nation's capital, which could sorely use a good mediator, doesn't appeal to him.

"The big difference I see between what I do and what happens in Washington is that in all court proceedings, particularly mediations arising out complicated federal litigation, the merits matter. I don't think you can say the same thing about politics.

"At the end of day I'm pretty convinced that while I'd be on a lot of people's top five list for mediating highly complicated disputes in federal court, I'd be on no one's top 10 list as a politician."

Distinguished neutral

Phillips began his mediation work in 1998, after several years as a litigator at his law firm. He's what's known in the mediation world as a "distinguished neutral."

"I'm a specialist in terminating litigation as opposed to perpetuating litigation," he said. "I've carved out a niche in the sense that I tend now to get cases that are multi-party, hydra-headed, very complicated litigation. They want someone who will sort of bang heads hard and push decision-makers, as opposed to merely shuttling back and forth and delivering messages like a carrier pigeon.

"I tend to be the Dutch uncle who people go to talk to, honestly and candidly, about the problems they have with the case. I try to convince them to look at the case in a different way because of the merits."

High stakes

He won't say specifically what went on behind the scenes in the NFL players negotiations. He will say that both sides had significant risks if the litigation continued.

"The plaintiffs faced a long, tough road ahead with substantial risk to recovery in the form of motion practice and significant proof obstacles associated with causation and damages, with the reality that most of the cases would have to be tried one at a time, and any case that was successful would be subject to years of appellate challenge," Phillips said.

"The NFL faced significant risks as well: years of substantial litigation costs, negative publicity, the potential for adverse verdicts in unsympathetic forums, and lengthy appeals."

So Phillips played the Dutch uncle.

"I love what I'm doing," he said, and would like to be doing it at 90. "I'm not looking for a return to the bench or public service, which I thought I would do. I'm at peace with the notion that I'm helping in a public service way by clearing off (the dockets) so many of these major, mission-impossible cases.

"It's satisfying; it's good for the parties; it's good for resources that otherwise would be spent on what I call keeping the world safe for attorney fees."

Julie DelCour, 918-581-8379

[email protected]

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