gambler

I may be revealing a secret cherished by columnists the world over, but I admit that among the columns we relish writing the most fall into the “I told you so” genre.

Case in point: In April last year, in a column about the gambling mess ensnaring Shohei Ohtani’s then-interpreter, I warned that the pro sports leagues’ enthusiastic embrace of betting would inevitably produce a major scandal.

“It might not surface in the next months or even years,” I wrote, “but it will happen.”

The calendar, as it turned out, ticked over at 19 months. Last Thursday, federal prosecutors charged National Basketball Assn. player Terry Rozier and former NBA player and assistant coach Damon Jones with fraud and money laundering in connection with a scheme to fix bets on NBA games. Portland Trail Blazers head coach Chauncey Billups was charged in a separate indictment linking him to a Mafia scheme to fix poker games; Jones was also named in that indictment.

The NBA has placed Billups and Rozier on leave. They’re both due to appear in federal court in Brooklyn over the next few weeks to enter pleas, though both have asserted their innocence.

It may not be easy for the league to wash its hands of this mess. All the professional sports leagues spent years shunning gambling as a threat to their public image of integrity before embracing the siren call of big-time sports betting, bringing gambling companies and their ever-increasing customer base into their tents. But the NBA was ahead of the crowd.

In a 2014 op-ed, NBA Commissioner Adam Silver effectively cried “uncle” in the league’s battle against gambling.

“For more than two decades,” he wrote, “the National Basketball Association has opposed the expansion of legal sports betting, as have the other major professional sports leagues in the United States.” The leagues supported a 1992 federal law prohibiting sports betting except in grandfathered venues, such as Las Vegas.

They took a stern position against players and personnel caught betting on their games and their sports, dating to 1919 and the so-called Black Sox scandal, in which eight members of the Chicago White Sox were accused of throwing the World Series for the benefit of a gambling ring. Major League Baseball hired an austere federal judge, Kenesaw Mountain Landis, as its commissioner and gave him unchecked authority to clean up the game. He banned the eight players from baseball forever.

In recent times, Silver observed in his op-ed, the American appetite for sports betting has only risen. Accordingly, he called for legalizing the practice so it could be “brought out of the underground and into the sunlight where it can be appropriately monitored and regulated.”

(The 1992 law was overturned by the Supreme Court, and legalized sports betting spread coast to coast.)

Given the subsequent developments, one can tag Silver for his childlike innocence in counting on the government to regulate an industry collecting billions of dollars a year from millions of users while operating with a legal imprimatur.

Silver wrote that among his “most important responsibilities as commissioner of the N.B.A. is to protect the integrity of professional basketball and preserve public confidence in the league and our sport.”

When I asked the NBA if Silver has had second thoughts about his 2014 op-ed, the league replied, “We continue to believe that a legal, regulated, and monitored sports betting market is far superior to an illegal one operating underground,” and suggested that a single federal regulator would be preferable to the existing state-by-state patchwork, though the activities alleged in the federal indictments almost surely would be crimes in any state. Silver did say during a broadcast interview Friday that the case gave him “a pit in my stomach.”

The league’s ability to monitor the behavior of its own people is questionable. Consider a March 23, 2024, Charlotte Hornets game against the New Orleans Pelicans. According to the indictment, Rozier let the gambling conspirators know that he would take himself out of the game early, allowing them to profit from bets that his stats would fall short of bookmakers’ expectations.

The NBA, alerted by sports wagering companies to “aberrational behavior” involving Rozier in the game, investigated but later said it could find any “violation of NBA rules.”

The NBA can hardly claim to have been blindsided by the new indictments. Only last year, another federal gambling case erupted involving NBA games.

In that case, prosecutors alleged that a gambler named Ammar Awawdeh forced then-Toronto Raptors player Jontay Porter to take himself out of a game early. That led gamblers who knew of the arrangement to bet that his stats for the game would fall short of expectations; those insiders made more than $100,000 on their bets, the prosecutors charged.

According to text messages filed with the 2024 indictments, Awawdeh acknowledged “forcing” Porter to participate in the scheme to help clear some of his gambling debts.

Awawdeh engaged in plea negotiations in the case, but the outcome couldn’t be determined. Porter pleaded guilty to related federal fraud charges, and is scheduled to be sentenced in December. The NBA has banned Porter for life.

Awawdeh was also named in last week’s indictment over the alleged poker scam.

In recent years, the pro leagues have cozied up to the gambling industry, claiming that their interest is merely “fan engagement” — that is, keeping TV viewers in front of their sets even during blowout games.

Only 11 states bar sports gambling today. They include the customary anti-gambling holdouts Utah and Hawaii, and California, where ballot measures to legalize sports gambling were defeated in 2022. As I mentioned in 2024, the perils of this expansion are manifest.

They’ve created a new underclass of gambling addicts while largely failing to fulfill their advocates’ assurances that state-sponsored and regulated gambling would produce a new, risk-free revenue stream for state and local budgets. The outcomes of some games have come under suspicion even where no evidence of fixing has been found.

The leagues have gone beyond just tolerating gambling; they’ve made partnership and sponsorship deals with the major sports gambling companies. The two leading companies, FanDuel and DraftKings, are official corporate gambling partners of the NBA, National Football League and Major League Baseball.

During broadcasts and steaming of games, it’s common to see in-game statistical projections on-screen — what are the chances of this hitter striking out, or hitting a home run, for instance.

During the seventh inning of Game 2 Saturday, Fox flashed a projection that there was a 36% chance that Yoshinobu Yamamoto would pitch 9+ innings. (He went the distance.)

The only reason to offer such projections is to feed the appetite for in-game proposition, or “prop,” bets. These are fundamentally bookmakers’ estimates. They don’t tell ordinary viewers anything they need to know to enjoy the coming innings, but do give bettors something to chew on before putting money down on the proposition “will Yamamoto pitch a complete game?”

In-game prop bets, as it happens, are like heroin to the vulnerable, offering instant gratification (or dismay). They “may be associated with risky gambling behavior,” according to the National Council on Problem Gaming. Draftkings heavily promotes prop bets on its sportsbook web page.

In a memo issued Monday, the NBA singled out prop bets as trouble spots: “In particular,” the memo says, “proposition bets on individual player performance involve heightened integrity concerns and require additional scrutiny.”

The major gaming companies have rolled out new ways to keep bettors betting. Smartphone apps, for example. In the old days no one could place a legal sports bet without traveling to Las Vegas, a built-in curb on problem gambling. Today, anyone with a smartphone can place a bet, often without certifying their age or financial resources.

“The advent of smartphones in 2007 and the Supreme Court decision in 2018 opened the door to fully frictionless, 24/7 legal gambling,” problem gambling experts Jonathan D. Cohen and Isaac Rose-Berman wrote recently.

I asked FanDuel and DraftKings if they accepted any responsibility for problem gaming in the U.S. DraftKings didn’t reply. A spokesman for FanDuel told me by email that the company “takes problem gambling seriously and continually works to identify at-risk behavior … including when a customer attempts to deposit significantly more than what they typically do,” or “excessive time on site, chasing losses or signals from customer service interactions.” In those cases, the company sometimes imposes deposit limits or timeouts or can exclude the user entirely.

That brings us to the latest indictments. The feds identified seven NBA games in 2023 and 2024, including the 2023 game in which Rozier allegedly tipped confederates to his decision to bench himself.

Among the others were a 2023 Trail Blazers game in which gamblers were tipped that the team would sit its best players so it would lose, thereby acquiring a better position in the upcoming NBA draft; and two Lakers games in which Jones allegedly tipped gamblers that star LeBron James, a friend since they played together on the Cleveland Cavaliers, was hurt and wouldn’t be playing.

“Get a big bet on Milwaukee tonight,” Jones allegedly told a contact before the first game, against the Milwaukee Bucks. James sat it out and the Lakers lost. James isn’t identified by name in the indictment, but its description of his roles helped identify him. James hasn’t made a public comment about the case, but he hasn’t been accused of any wrongdoing.

Can anything stem this tide? The smart bet at this moment is “no.” There’s just too much money riding on the continued expansion of sports betting: DraftKings has more than doubled its revenue since 2022, reaching $4.8 billion last year, and nearly doubling its monthly average users to 3.7 million. FanDuel is owned by a British gambling conglomerate, so its U.S. sports revenue is difficult to parse.

That’s a lot of money to be thrown around promoting more sports gambling, making it harder for governments to regulate and for sports leagues to turn up their noses at the income. Keeping their image for integrity intact in this world of greedy and needy players and voracious gamblers is only going to get harder.

That Scottie Scheffler is the prohibitive favorite to win the U.S. Open this week at historic Oakmont Country Club surprises no one. He’s the top-ranked golfer in the world, winning three of his last four starts, including the PGA Championship.

That Scheffler deleted his Venmo account because bettors continually clicked the pay/request link on the mobile payment app and rudely demanded that he reimburse them when he didn’t win probably shouldn’t surprise anyone, either.

“I think everybody hears from fans whether they have a financial benefit or anything in their outcome,” Scheffler told reporters at the U.S. Open on Tuesday. “That’s why I had to get rid of my Venmo, because I was either getting paid by people or people requesting me a bunch of money when I didn’t win. It wasn’t a good feeling.”

Scheffler chuckled nervously when he said it, but athletes getting harassed by folks who lost money betting on their performances isn’t a laughing matter.

Ever since the U.S. Supreme Court in 2018 struck down a federal law that had prohibited most states from allowing sports betting, abuse toward athletes from bettors who blame them for their financial losses has soared. Gambling on sports is now legal in 39 states.

Houston Astros pitcher Lance McCullers Jr. and Boston Red Sox pitcher Liam Hendriks said recently that their families have received death threats on social media.

A man who lost money May 10 when McCullers gave up seven runs while recording only one out in a loss to the Cincinnati Reds threatened to “murder” McCullers’ two young daughters. Police traced the threats to an intoxicated man overseas who had lost money betting on the game.

“I understand people are very passionate and people love the Astros and love sports, but threatening to find my kids and murder them is a little bit tough to deal with,” McCullers said in an understatement. “There have been many, many threats over the years aimed at me mostly … but I think bringing kids into the equation, threatening to find them or next time they see us in public they’re going to stab my kids to death. Things like that are tough to hear as a dad.”

Hendriks posted on his Instagram story that he has received death threats while struggling to regain his form after missing nearly two years because of Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma and Tommy John surgery.

“Threats against my life and my wife’s life are horrible and cruel,” Hendriks wrote. “You need help. Comments telling me to commit suicide and how you wish I died from cancer are disgusting and vile. Maybe you should take a step back and re-evaluate your life’s purpose before hiding behind a screen attacking players and their families.

Hendriks later explained to reporters why he responded on social media.

“With the rise of sports gambling, it’s gotten a lot worse,” he said. “Unfortunately, that tends to be what it ends up being — whether it be Venmo requests, whether it be people telling you in their comments, ‘Hey, you blew my parlay. Go [f—-] yourself,’ kind of stuff.”

Some gamblers believe they can impact the outcomes of competition through harassment. FanDuel banned a man in Philadelphia after he bragged on social media about intimidating three-time Olympic gold medalist Gabby Thomas at a Grand Slam Track meet two weeks ago.

“I made Gabby lose by heckling her. And it made my parlay win,” he wrote on a post that included a screenshot of two bets on FanDuel.

Thomas responded by posting, “This grown man followed me around the track as I took pictures and signed autographs for fans (mostly children) shouting personal insults — anybody who enables him online is gross.”

College athletes are also targets, especially during high-volume betting events such as March Madness and the College Football Playoff.

The NCAA is lobbying for states to ban proposition bets on the performances of individual college athletes, saying it creates a temptation to compromise game integrity.

College athletes have long been considered more susceptible to taking money from gamblers than pro athletes because they are amateurs. That will soon change because of the passage last week of the House settlement, a revenue-sharing model that will allow universities to directly pay athletes up to $20.5 million per year.
Not to say paying college athletes will insulate them from disgruntled gamblers. The NCAA will continue to press for laws that could ban bettors from state-licensed sportsbooks if they are found guilty of harassment.

The sheer volume of betting makes policing the harassment and intimidation of athletes an enormous challenge. This year, it was estimated that $3 billion was legally wagered on the men’s and women’s NCAA basketball tournaments, according to the American Gaming Association (AGA), an increase of about 10% from 2024.

In an attempt to be proactive about harassment ahead of March Madness, the NCAA posted a public service announcement video titled “Don’t Be a Loser.”

“There’s losing and then there’s being a loser. Game time comes with enough pressure,” the video said. “Way too often, people are betting on sports, losing, and taking it out on the athletes. Only a loser would harass college athletes after losing a bet, but it happens almost every day.

“Root for your team, get crazy when the buzzer sounds, but don’t harass anyone because you lost a bet. It’s time we draw the line and put an end to the abuse.”

Scheffler drew the line by deleting his Venmo account, which had become just another means for gamblers to communicate with a prominent athlete. His career earnings exceed $150 million, according to Spotrac, but he said a handful of bettors had paid him “maybe a couple bucks here or there” via Venmo after he won tournaments and presumably lined their pockets as well.

“That didn’t happen nearly as much as the requests did,” Scheffler added.