Pete Rose says gambling cost him $100 million in lost opportunities: Caesar’s Better Bettor

The latest came last week, when former Missouri basketball player Jontay Porter pled guilty in New York federal court to conspiracy to commit wire fraud by removing himself from NBA games in order to influence some betting outcomes. He could be given 41 to 51 months in prison when he is sentenced in December. Then this week Porter, who has been banned from the NBA for life, unsuccessfully asked a judge to allow him to travel to Greece to resume his playing career. He also wanted the return of his passport, which he had surrendered as part of his bond conditions. The judge said no.

Earlier this year there was the sordid case of Ippei Mizuhara, the interpreter for Los Angeles Dodgers star Shohei Ohtani, who prosecutors say embezzled nearly $17 million from Ohtani to cover sports betting debts. He has signed a plea agreement describing the allegations in the ongoing case. While Mizuhara’s losses reportedly were to an underground bookie and not a legal operation, they come in a time when sports fans are bombarded with advertisements to wager on athletic events.

University of Alabama’s baseball coach was fired last spring for allegedly providing a bettor with inside information about the Crimson Tide’s scheduled starting pitcher being scratched before the information was made public. The gambler then reportedly tried to place a $100,000 bet on the other team, Louisiana State, at a legal sportsbook in Ohio. But the book wouldn’t take a wager that large on a routine college baseball game, limiting it to $15,000, and raising suspicion that was investigated. LSU won the game.

But the most high-profile sports-betting scandal of the modern era came in 1989. That’s when baseball’s career hits leader, Pete Rose, accepted a lifetime ban after a Major League Baseball-commissioned investigation said he made numerous bets on the Cincinnati Reds to win from 1985-87 while he was playing for and/or managing that club.

Rose long denied the allegations but said he accepted the banishment to avoid more court cases. He since has admitted to betting on baseball and unsuccessfully has asked multiple times to be reinstated. In addition to hits (4,256), Rose is MLB’s career leader in games played (3,562), at-bats (14,053), plate appearances (15,890) and singles (3,215) — and longs to be included in baseball’s Hall of Fame.

Now HBO has produced a four-part series examining Rose’s self-inflicted plight, “Charlie Hustle & The Matter of Pete Rose,” which is set to debut at 8 p.m. Wednesday with the first two installments. The final two air the next night starting at the same time. All four are scheduled to be available to stream on Max by Wednesday night.

The first episode chronicles Rose’s efforts to be reinstated, something he also addressed in a public appearance last week in Los Angeles at which the documentary was promoted.

“You have to understand one thing, ladies and gentlemen,” Rose said during the question-and-answer session. “Gambling cost me a hundred million (dollars). That’s what I’d have made in baseball if I hadn’t got suspended.”

Also on the panel was Mark Monroe, who wrote and directed the series, and the discussion was moderated by iconic sportscaster Al Michaels — who broadcast Reds games in the early 1970s when Rose’s career was ascending to superstar status. Rose  later played for Philadelphia and Montreal before wrapping up back with Cincinnati.

Rose tries to justify his actions all these years later.

“I’m the one that got hurt the most. Me gambling on baseball, I didn’t hurt you,” he added at the forum while pointing to members of the audience. “I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t hurt you. I hurt myself and my family and I was stupid.”

Rose added that he only wagered on the Reds to win when he was their manager.

“I’m running the (expletive) show. I can make the moves,” he said. “I never bet against my team. I bet on my team every fricking night. … I won a hell of a lot more games than I lost. So in that respect, I was a respected gambler when I was betting on baseball. But I shouldn’t have did it. But it was fun doing it.”

This misses the point. If he had “action” on a game, would he manage it differently than if he didn’t? We addressed this a few years ago:

“Would he start a star player, who really could use a night off, to try to gain an edge at the expense of him not being at the top of his game for the next day or two — when Rose might not have a bet? Same way with the bullpen. Would he use it extensively in a contest on which he had wagered, perhaps hurting it for the next couple nights when he was not calling his bookie?”

The long-haul good of the team could be compromised in the quest to go all-out for one solitary win. As we said several years ago:

“There have been notices posted in clubhouse areas for decades — including Rose’s playing days — that wagering on baseball has severe consequences. Baseball’s Rule 21 says, in part: ‘Any player, umpire, or Club or League official or employee, who shall bet any sum whatsoever upon any baseball game in connection with which the bettor has a duty to perform, shall be declared permanently ineligible.’

“It’s simple and to the point. Rose could see that every day he was at work and chose to defy the rule. His choice. But it’s hard to argue that he should be reinstated when the punishment for what he did is to be permanently ineligible.”

Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred concurs.

“Pete Rose violated what is sort of Rule One in baseball, and the consequences of that are clear in the rule, and we’ve continued to abide by our own rules,” he told reporters last year. “… It’s part of the responsibility that comes with the privilege of being a major-league player.”

Back at the forum in LA, Michaels asked Rose if he’s given up hope of some day being enshrined in baseball’s Hall of Fame. Although he technically is not prohibited by MLB from being inducted, the Hall has a rule preventing those who are permanently banished by MLB from being voted on by baseball writers who elect inductees.

“I don’t want to go to the Hall of Fame after I die because the Hall of Fame is for your family and your fans,” Rose said. “That’s who really gets the benefit from an individual going to the Hall of Fame. I don’t want to go to the Hall of Fame after they bury me. What good is that going to do to my family?”

He then suggests he already would have been inducted if he had been guilty of other infractions.

And in the documentary he says, “All I did was bet on baseball. I didn’t rob banks.”

He amplified on that in his conversation with Michaels.

“I just picked the wrong vice,” Rose said, acknowledging the damage the 1919 Chicago White Sox World Series-fixing scandal had on the sport. “… Do you really think I’m the only player in the world ever to bet on baseball?”

No. San Diego infielder Tucupita Marcano recently was banned for life for betting on his own games and several other players were handed one-year suspensions for wagering on MLB contests in which their clubs were not involved. Logic says others did so over the years, they just weren’t caught.

But Rose’s consistent claims that he did nothing to hurt the sport by only betting on his own team to win still ring hollow, given the aforementioned discussion of ways that could hurt the team in the long run. Any notion by fans, real or perceived, that a sport’s integrity could be in question could cause it grave harm.

Jonathan Tamayo, a 38-year-old Texan, beat out the largest field in the history of the World Series of Poker’s main event to win this year’s title and the $10 million top prize.

The starting herd of 10,112 players at the event in Las Vegas had been whittled to nine early in the week, with those players reaching the final table and each guaranteed at least a $1 million payday in the event that had a $10,000 entry fee. Tamayo surged from seventh place among the final nine competitors to win the title Wednesday night.

“What in the world just happened?” he asked after eliminating Jordan Griff, of Arizona, for the crown. Second place for Griff was worth $6 million, with third-place finisher Niklas Astedt of Sweden getting $4 million.

On the final hand of the Texas Hold ’Em no-limit tournament, Tamayo was dealt 8-3 and Griff got 9-6, both off suit. The flop was 9-8-3, giving Tamayo two pair and Griff one pair, but top pair. Tamayo, who had more chips than Griff, eventually went all-in. Thus Griff would have to risk his entire stack in order to call the bet — which he did. The last two cards were an ace and a 5, helping neither player therefore Tamyo’s two pair held up.

Wentzville man cashes in: Bill Byrnes, of Wentzville, finished 107th — good for $100,000. He also was ninth in the Seniors No-Limit Hold ’Em event, one of the many tourneys conducted at the World Series of Poker. That carried a $1,000 entry fee and resulted in a $70,516 payout.