Author: David Murphy

  • The arrests in the NBA gambling scandal are proof that the new world is better than the old

    The arrests in the NBA gambling scandal are proof that the new world is better than the old

    One thing nobody will dispute is that Thursday was a victory for the scolds. All at once, they logged on, and logged in, and limbered up their Twitter fingers and sent them dancing across the keyboard like Herbie Hancock on the ivories.

    A good old-fashioned gambling scandal was erupting, and they weren’t going to let it pass without imparting some grave moral lessons.

    Look here, they said. The most important indictment announced by the U.S. Attorney’s Eastern District of New York office on Thursday wasn’t the one that laid out the charges against NBA guard Terry Rozier for his alleged role in a prop-bet-fixing scheme, or the one that detailed NBA head coach Chauncey Billups’ alleged involvement in rigging illegal poker games.

    No, the important indictment was the metaphorical one handed down against the NBA itself. For embracing legalized sports gambling. For partnering with online sportsbooks like DraftKings. For prioritizing profit over the integrity of the game.

    This wasn’t just criminals allegedly doing as criminals allegedly do. It was the inevitable end result of the NBA’s embrace of an industry that should not exist.

    Again, according to the scolds.

    But the scolds are wrong. In fact, their interpretation of Thursday’s events, and of last year’s Jontay Porter guilty plea in a separate investigation, is the exact opposite of the real lesson to draw. A world where people can gamble openly with reputable companies that operate within the jurisdiction of federal law enforcement and in cooperation with sports leagues is a world where any bad actors are likely to be caught. That is not the world as it used to be.

    We all remember the old world, right? Pete Rose, Paul Hornung and Alex Karras, the Black Sox, Boston College and CCNY. These were some of the biggest individual or institutional names of their eras, all of them involving serious wagers on the outcomes of games over an extended period of time, most of them in concert with the criminal underworld.

    Pete Rose, who was banned from baseball for 35 years for betting on the sport, was reinstated last May.

    The responsibility of protecting the integrity of games fell primarily on sports executives. Karras and Hornung, two of the NFL’s biggest stars in the 1960s, were suspended for a season as a result of commissioner Pete Rozelle’s investigation into players’ ties with bettors.

    Nobody knows the old world as well as the NBA. Two decades ago, the league found itself mired in the biggest scandal of them all when it learned that referee Tim Donaghy had spent four years wagering on games that he officiated. Donaghy, a Delco native who attended Cardinal O’Hara, later claimed that 80% of his bets ended up cashing.

    His gambling was eventually uncovered by an FBI investigation that resulted in prison time, but only after he’d inflicted four years’ worth of reputational damage on the league.

    Compare the Donaghy scandal to what the feds laid out in their indictments on Thursday. Rozier is alleged to have provided nonpublic information to gamblers who bet on at least seven games between March 2023 and March 2024.

    The indictment involving Rozier also includes mention of a “Co-Conspirator 8″ who provided gamblers with information about Portland Trailblazers personnel decisions, although Billups was not explicitly named. (Billups’ charges stem from a separate case involving the rigging of illegal poker games.)

    The Rozier case stems from an earlier investigation into Porter, a then-Toronto Raptors player who later admitted in court that he manipulated his performance in two games. (Porter was banned from the NBA in the spring of 2024 and is currently awaiting sentencing in his case).

    I don’t mean to minimize the seriousness of the cases involving Rozier, Billups, and Porter. Rozier and Billups deserve to join Porter with lifetime bans, and Billups should be removed from the Hall of Fame.

    NBA commissioner Adam Silver and the league need to do some serious self-scouting to figure out if there is anything they can do beyond wielding heavy-handed punishment as a deterrent.

    The scolds are correct in at least one regard. The NBA and its fellow sports leagues should seriously reconsider the extent to which they have encouraged the integration of betting with their telecasts and live events. The rise in popularity of betting on individual player props and so-called same-game parlay promotions has created a huge new front of incentives and avenues for malfeasance, packaged and promoted in a way that can feel more like fantasy sports than gambling.

    It is more than fair to suggest that commissioners should create more distance between themselves and the sportsbooks, particularly when it comes to marketing.

    The NBA’s increasingly close relationship with sportsbooks has brought in significant revenue but also led to additional problems.

    Let’s not lose sight of the real issue. The leagues had no choice but to accept the reality of legal sports gambling. In the years before its adoption in the United States, overseas sportsbooks were exploding in popularity. Daily Fantasy cash games were already legal. Sports gambling was going to achieve critical mass at some point in the United States.

    The decision that the leagues had to make was whether they wanted to help create a world where it could be regulated and policed most effectively.

    We saw that world play out in Porter’s case. The gambling syndicate that attempted to profit from his prop bets was flagged due to the irregular nature of the wagers. The ability to detect abnormal betting patterns is the single biggest weapon in the fight against sports-fixing, and it should be the single biggest deterrent to anybody who attempts to engage in it.

    The legalization of sports gambling is shifting all of the money that used to be wagered in the underworld onto audited books overseen by billion-dollar companies with sophisticated detection methods in place. It would be silly for a league like the NBA not to encourage that sort of framework in favor of one where forensic accounting is nearly impossible.

    The cases of Rozier, Billups, and Porter are an indication that the world still isn’t perfect. But it is silly to suggest that stuff like this was less prevalent in the old world. We were just less likely to find out about it.

  • What should you expect out of the Sixers this season? Nothing and everything all at once.

    What should you expect out of the Sixers this season? Nothing and everything all at once.

    The Sixers have figured out the key to a stress-free life.

    You can’t let anybody down if they don’t have any expectations.

    It would be a fitting twist if this was the year the Sixers finally lived up to the hype of the last decade. They spent eight years as a Snapchat-filter contender, entering each season with the unsubstantiated energy of a team that desperately wants to speak its self-image into existence but at the same time understands that the teams that win NBA titles usually aren’t the ones trying to channel Ben Affleck in Boiler Room. The problem with the whole “act as if” mindset is that you need to stop acting at some point or else you just become an act.

    The tricky thing about the Sixers is that it is tough to pinpoint when, exactly, they became that act, given the preponderance of options. I would argue that it was when James Harden held a birthday party at which women held signs that said, “Daryl Morey is a liar.” But you could just as easily argue that it happened a year earlier, when the Sixers traded a guy who was too scared to throw down an open dunk in a decisive playoff game for a guy who showed up to a playoff press conference wearing a designer coat that looked like it was constructed from the pelt of a Teletubby.

    Morey has taken the brunt of the blame for the last couple of seasons, mostly because it was his name on the marquee. If you don’t like the circus, you either blame Barnum or you blame Bailey. In selling Harden and then Paul George, Morey’s message was the classic “Don’t believe your eyes.” The scariest part of Dave Dombrowski’s press conference last week was when he channeled Morey and suggested that older players don’t get old the same way they used to. Whatever truth there is to it — and I could lay out a very strong case that there isn’t much — the marvels of modern sport science still haven’t managed to solve a conundrum that each of us encounters at some physiological age. Once you get old, there is no getting un-old. The only question is whether you can slow down the decay.

    Funny thing about Morey, though. While his more vocal critics have written him off as little more than a salesman, they are giving his sales proficiency way too much credit. He has been much better at his actual job, which, let’s not forget, began five years ago with inheriting a roster that was assembled on the premise that Al Horford and Josh Richardson could be the missing pieces that would enable Joel Embiid, Ben Simmons, and Tobias Harris to win a title. Back then, people felt a lot like they did by the end of last season. The Sixers’ best chance had already passed them by.

    Sixers president Daryl Morey is entering his sixth season with the franchise.

    What the interim has wrought is in the eye of the beholder. It has been easiest to focus on Morey’s yearly quest to push the Sixers over the top, his annual reshuffling of the deck, from Simmons to Harden to George, each one falling short of even reaching the conference finals. The Sixers have not come close to achieving the ultimate goal, but they have made a sport of it, taking the Celtics to Game 7 in 2023 and the Knicks to Game 6 in 2024 before landing George as part of a free-agent bonanza last summer. Yet even as they have tried and failed — and flailed — they somehow manage to enter 2025-26 with a roster that actually looks like the one the Sixers thought they had in those first post-Process years, long before Morey arrived. Morey drafted Tyrese Maxey and then Jared McCain and just five months ago VJ Edgecombe, who may have the most potential of them all.

    You watched the Sixers this preseason and you saw the makings of the team they never actually had. The first quarter of their 126-110 win over the Timberwolves on Friday was eye-opening. Early in the quarter, Edgecombe crashed the weak-side glass and corralled a Kelly Oubre miss for an easy putback. Edgecombe and Maxey spent the period running the court like it was crumbling behind them, pushing the pace after makes as well as misses, displaying an uncanny connection for teammates whose partnership can be measured in months.

    After going hard to the basket and finishing his textbook footwork with a contested layup off a fastbreak pass from Maxey, Edgecombe stole the ball from Johnny Juzang at the other end of the court, sparking another break that resulted in a free-throw trip for Quentin Grimes. But the most instructive play might have been one that failed: a cross-court, alley-oop pass from Maxey near the hash to Edgecombe on the weak-side block. They did not convert, but they came close enough to project that they will finish plenty of them.

    Even without McCain, who quickly worked his way to the top of the rotation last season and who will be there again soon, the Sixers looked a lot like the kind of team people always wished they would be instead of steadily growing older, slower, and more difficult to watch.

    For the first time in a long time, the Sixers have the makings of a team that is, at the very least, a fun team to root for. It remains to be seen how well it will translate into wins. It will translate into more than people think if Embiid can consistently be the guy he was in his preseason debut. Healthy. Light on his feet. Knocking down elbow jumpers and charging to the rim. Whatever they get from George will be a bonus.

    And, who knows, maybe that will be enough in a wide-open Eastern Conference where two top contenders are taking gap years. Injuries to the Celtics’ Jayson Tatum and the Pacers’ Tyrese Haliburton have created a power vacuum. You can’t completely discount the Sixers’ chances of filling it.

    Sixers guard VJ Edgecombe brings the ball upcourt alongside Tyrese Maxey during Friday’s preseason game against the Timberwolves.

    For now, the reason to watch this team is for an early look at what the future will look like. Edgecombe has a chance to become the Sixers’ most electric star since Allen Iverson. Maxey is Maxey, and McCain is almost as fun to watch. It is a fascinating dynamic, one that complicates the more cynical narratives about the Sixers’ trajectory over the last five years.

    The safe play is to not expect much out of the Sixers. But you can expect them to be fun.