Gaming the Game

by Sean Patrick Griffin

  As Battista spent more time with Tommy Martino, The Sheep could sense that the days of mimicking Jack Concannon’s bets would soon be over. “I knew Jack wasn’t paying Elvis because Tommy told me Elvis couldn’t stop complaining about Jack owing him money. There was a night in late October or early November when Elvis called Tommy at one o’clock in the morning, complaining that Jack owed him forty thousand dollars, and that Jack lost the money in Atlantic City. Elvis was also bitching to Tommy that Concannon said people [losing bettors] weren’t paying him, so he couldn’t pay Elvis for the games he owed him. I never let on to Tommy that I knew for a long time that Elvis was betting with Concannon, and obviously I didn’t mention anything about Elvis betting on his own games.”

  Weeks before hooking up with Battista for his football picks, Donaghy and his colleagues had tipped off the 2006-07 NBA season. This season would be unlike any other for the league, and for Donaghy. “By the time the NBA season started in late October, Elvis was deep in the hole from his other sports bets,” Battista says, “which is probably why he bet every fucking game he reffed from the start of the season.” Noting that until then, Donaghy had only bet on a few dozen games he officiated each of the past three seasons, Battista says, “His betting behavior changed in the ’06-07 NBA season.” Donaghy went an astounding ten-and-o to start the NBA season, according to Battista, wagering on each of the first ten games he officiated. These wagers were placed with Jack Concannon, who couldn’t possibly have known how the next few weeks would alter his life—and the lives of everyone involved—forever, beginning with the now-infamous December meeting at the Philadelphia International Airport Marriott.

  “I only met with Elvis after I got him off of Queer Street with his football bets,” Battista says. “The meeting we wound up having at the Marriott would have occurred earlier, but Elvis wasn’t going to be in town until December 12th. Starting in late October or early November, Elvis called Tommy every day because he was getting my football picks. At that point in the year, there is football to bet almost all the time. Tommy was trying to schedule a meeting between all of us since right after Thanksgiving. I finally got to thank Elvis in person for the autographed Kobe Bryant jersey when we met in the Marriott.”8

  * * *

  So, the men gathered on the evening of December 12th, ultimately cutting the deal to wager on Donaghy’s games inside a pot smoke-filled car outside a convenience store, with all three conspirators flying high. Before the night ended, Donaghy told Battista the Boston Celtics were “going to kill” the Philadelphia 76ers the following night, and The Sheep placed his bets throughout the next day accordingly. Indeed, the Celtics destroyed the Sixers, winning by twenty points, resulting in the conspiracy’s first successful wagers. The next night, on December 14th , the three men convened again. This time they met at Tommy Martino’s house, where Battista had been spending so much time since summer, and where Tim “Elvis” Donaghy often made it a point to stop when he was in town. The purpose of the meeting was to iron out the specifics of the newly consummated deal to bet on games Donaghy would be officiating.

  “At the meeting at Tommy’s house the night after Elvis reffed the Celtics at the Sixers,” Battista says, “I put five thousand dollars wrapped in a rubber band on the edge of Tommy’s couch and told Elvis, ‘This is for our new partnership.’ I didn’t want to put it in his hand. I paid him two thousand for that game, but the five grand was just a ‘Welcome to the party’ kind of thing; like a signing bonus.

  “I didn’t want to talk to Elvis on the phone, so I told him that he needed to call Tommy in the morning of a game—at the latest—with his pick so that I could get the best numbers. I told Elvis that if we were going to bet the favorite and some-body else liked that side, the line might move a point-and-a-half or two points, which was a huge move for an NBA game. We didn’t want to miss getting the number before other people started betting, so he had to call Tommy early in the morning or the night before. I also told him that whatever the line was in the paper, I would get us a better number. So, if we were picking an underdog that was listed in the morning paper as getting eight points, he knew I’d be getting us at least nine points. I explained to him how I would finagle to get us the best numbers because I was controlling the market.”

  As they concluded the meeting, two days into what would later become known as the NBA betting scandal, Battista left Martino’s house with supreme confidence the scheme would produce significant and immediate results. The Sheep had parroted Jack Concannon’s bets on Tim Donaghy’s games for the previous three NBA seasons, and would now get Donaghy’s picks directly. The new arrangement would permit Battista to manipulate the world’s betting lines much more in his favor now, because he would be getting the picks on Donaghy’s games much earlier. Of course, the scheme ultimately depended upon Donaghy’s picks, and with respect to that component of the conspiracy, Battista had no doubts. “I knew he was going to do whatever it took to win,” Battista says. “Elvis could set the tempo of a game, and affect the outcome of the game. To me, Timmy was ‘Elvis’ aka ‘The King’ because I had been winning so much on his games, and because I didn’t want to be on the phone using his name.”

  The first few weeks of the arrangement were successful, and minor adjustments were made to the scheme’s logistics. “The set up was working good,” Battista says. “The first three games we crushed, and I said to Tommy, ‘Tell Elvis I’ll move him to five thousand a game.’ ”9 Battista’s and Donaghy’s mutual friend was not left out of the illicit and profitable deal. “Tommy got twenty-five hundred bucks a game,” Battista says, “and just like Elvis’ deal, he didn’t have to pay if we lost. This was in addition to whatever I paid Tommy to run around for me.” Right around this time, Battista told Donaghy that in the event of a “stone-cold lock”—as sure a winner as Donaghy believed there could be—the code for such a pick would be “schmaga.” “The term ‘schmaga’ came from when me and Tommy were growing up,” Battista says. “Tommy had a neighbor who was a mentally handicapped boy whose nickname was Schmaga. We got real close to him because he used to come to all of our sporting events; Holy Cross football, CYO basketball. We became pretty close with him and treated him like a little brother. Elvis knew who Schmaga was, too, just like most of the people we went to high school with.” The payment for a winning schmaga pick would be ten thousand dollars, resulting from Battista’s more consequential wagering on such incredible Donaghy “handicapping.”

  Because the plan was to bet exclusively on Donaghy’s games, the conspirators could more easily use coded language to conceal the true intent of their conversations. “Elvis would call Tommy as early as possible to tell us who he liked,” Battista says, “and to find out what the number was at that point. We would never say the teams. At first we said that ‘Chuck’ was the home team and ‘Johnny’ was the away team.10 So, if I called Tommy, I’d say something like, ‘I’m going over to Chuck’s house for dinner tonight and I’ll be there by six.’ That was my way of telling Tommy the home team was favored by six. If I said ‘seven-thirty,’ it meant the line was seven-and-a-half. Whatever the line was, I spoke like that to Tommy. We later changed it to ‘Mom’ for home and ‘Dad’ for away.

  “Once I knew what side Elvis liked, I’d get to work. I’d bet, like, a hundred and twenty thousand in Europe, then maybe thirty to fifty thousand at a few outs in Asia, all of it before people were gonna start betting in the U.S. The hope was that I could get some money accumulated over there without affecting the offshore and U.S. markets.” Of course, there were also plenty of times Battista wanted to fool the market, and get others to follow the wrong sides of his bets, allowing him to get the betting lines he actually wanted from the start. “I had the most sophisticated computer setup moving these games, and I was trying to filter the games through Europe, Taiwan, Vegas, and the rest of the U.S. I would use money from the sharp guys to bet around fifty thousand dollars and invest it betting on the games the wrong way. I was just sabotaging
the market. So, if I wanted to take seven on a game and the game was four-and-a-half and five, I’d lay the four-and-a-half and five. The followers would lay the five-and-a-half and six, and force the bookmakers to go to seven. Now, it was sitting around seven, and I’d be taking back the seven. I’d be sending people offshore, ‘Go get me a half a million plus seven.’ Bookmakers were in a frenzy because the lines were moving so much, and they were getting opened up to being middled. The lines would move from three, to four, to five, to six, to seven. They were fucked. If I laid four and four-and-a-half and the game went to seven and I take seven, and the game lands on five or six, the bookmakers were getting destroyed. I had people in England betting for me, people in Taiwan, and the money would filter back into the United States. No one had any idea where the action was coming from.

  “Elvis would call us back in the afternoon or early evening on game days to see what numbers I got, and to let me know if there were any lineup changes or if someone was sick or injured. Sometimes, he would actually call Tommy from the locker room right before his game to see what numbers I got on the game. He wouldn’t start a game until he knew what the number was.”

  Because Battista was still betting for his heavy-hitting clients, including wagers on NBA games, there were some awkward moments when bets would be phoned in on games Donaghy was officiating. Most often, the bettors would call in with their picks early in the morning, and Battista would tell them he wanted to hold off and see how the betting lines were going to change—without explaining that he was behind whatever line changes were in the offing. The Chinaman, of course, had known for a while what was going on and commonly benefitted from Battista’s “handicapper” picks. Some challenges remained for The Sheep, however. “Th ere were times that it was a pain in the ass if my bettors wanted the same side of a Donaghy game,” Battista says, “because there wasn’t enough money in the market, and I wanted to get my bets down at the right number. I would never fuck them over, though, and put them on the wrong side. I would usually tell them I could get them ‘X’ number, which was close to what I was going to take but wouldn’t affect my bets.”

  Footnotes

  Tommy Martino worked for J.P. Morgan Chase Corporation in Christiana, Delaware.

  Former NBA referee Robbie Robinson similarly characterized Donaghy as greedy: “Anytime there was a money-related extra assignment, like teaching a clinic or making a personal appearance, Donaghy would want to do it. If he wasn’t chosen, he would be livid. He would go into an absolute tirade . . . If the league office told him to stand on his head for two minutes before every quarter, Donaghy would do it. He was obsessed with becoming a Finals referee to get the extra money.” Senior referees who work through the NBA Finals can earn as much as an extra seventy-five thousand dollars.

  Tommy Martino’s various statements to the FBI support Battista’s version of events in re: working out of Martino’s home; having Martino bet on his behalf; using Martino’s laptop and allowing Martino to use his; he and Donaghy obtaining drugs from Martino; and Martino’s role in the local drug trade, among other related matters.

  Tommy Martino divorced in 2005.

  Battista’s self-described “psychobabble” regarding Tommy Martino was perhaps not as fl ippant as he thought. A psychologist who later evaluated Martino said that he appeared “almost adolescent in his physical and social demeanor” and that he was “fastidious about his eyebrows and hair.” The psychologist also noted that Martino was “somewhat immature, dependent and in need of considerable social recognition to bolster his self-image,” which may have been best exhibited on Martino’s MySpace page, which then listed his interests as “cars, women, working, sports and the gym.” At the time, he also posted, “I dine out 3 or 4 times a week and live every day like it’s my last. If I died tomorrow, I know for a fact I’ve done more than most 95 year-olds.” Martino was ultimately diagnosed with Histrionic Personality Disorder, in which the afflicted person’s self-esteem “depends on the approval of others and does not arise from a true feeling of self-worth.” Such persons have a “desire to be noticed and often behave dramatically or inappropriately to get attention.”

  Donaghy apparently continued such behavior long after high school. In the late 1990s, according to a retired dentist named John Minutella, Donaghy put a dead, maggot-infested, bird in Minutella’s golf bag, which was not discovered until the following day. Minutella said of Donaghy: “Nobody wanted to play golf with him. I can’t say one nice thing about him. I believe this guy was almost soulless.”

  Battista says he gave Donaghy six to eight football picks each week.

  Battista’s version of events in re: the meeting with Donaghy at the Marriott (discussed in the Prologue) is supported by Tommy Martino’s statements to the FBI, including such details as the conversation at the restaurant table between Battista and Donaghy regarding Donaghy’s pre-existing betting on his NBA games with Jack Concannon, and the side conversation soon afterward between Martino and Donaghy, during which Donaghy “admitted to betting on his own games with Concannon.” Donaghy, according to Martino, complained that Concannon was not paying him what he was owed, and thus Donaghy “wanted to start giving picks to Baba.” Martino says that after the meeting, Battista acted “like a savior who was there to help Donaghy,” and the FBI sums up the situation thusly: “Martino had the impression that Donaghy wanted to provide picks to Baba for Donaghy’s own financial gain.” Of minor note, Martino told the FBI it was Battista’s idea to schedule the meeting, whereas Battista claims that Donaghy requested the conference.

  In various court filings, the federal government stated that the arrangement did, in fact, change from $2,000 to $5,000 per winning bet. Tommy Martino told the FBI that Donaghy’s payment was increased from $2,000 to $5,000 per win after approximately ten games.

  These were inspired by Tommy Martino’s brothers. Chuck (“home”) lived closer than Johnny (“away”).

  Trouble Shooting

  THE NEW YEAR hadn’t even begun, and already there was a sense of trepidation filtering in among the exuberance felt by the scandal’s beneficiaries. Battista’s role in the scheme, and more importantly the outrageous amounts of money he was now placing for himself and his clients on Donaghy’s games, was unnerving even to seasoned, big-time sports bettors.

  “After the first five games with Elvis, we were five-and-o,” Battista says, “and Bluto was freaked out by what was going on. He was one of my bigger outs in the U.S., and wanted to know if they were The Chinaman’s games, The Computer’s games, or if they were my ‘handicapper’s’ games. The thing was, if my guys wanted the same side as Elvis did, there wasn’t enough money in America. If the world’s two sharpest handicappers liked the same side and Elvis was reffing the game, there weren’t enough banks in the country. The information was just too strong. We were laying two and three on a game, and bookmakers were coming in and laying four and five. That’s why bookmakers knew something was going on. These were the most respected bookmakers in the world. They didn’t cheat on the numbers, and they were very good at what they did. The lines were moving so much, and it wasn’t like there were injuries or anything else that could account for the big line moves. People couldn’t do anything about what I was doing, and the best they could do was take the next number. Sometimes you’d see a line go from two or two-and-a-half all the way up to eight, and that started happening a lot.”

  An example of line moves repeatedly referenced by Battista can be found by looking at those from one of the scandal’s first games. Tim Donaghy was going to be officiating the game between Team A and Team B, an eight-and-a-half point favorite and Donaghy’s pick. As was typical of his betting pattern throughout the NBA scandal (and, indeed, for many of his bets generally), Battista got to work by giving what pro gamblers call a “head fake,” placing bets on the wrong side in the hopes of getting the sucker money to follow. This action ultimately forces sportsbooks to alter lines accordingly, and results in the progenitor of the action ge
tting a more advantageous line on the side he wanted all along, which he now bets in sums that dwarf those placed earlier on the wrong side. That is precisely what happened in this instance, when Battista placed forty thousand and five hundred dollars on the underdog Team A plus eight-and-a-half points, after which the line moved down to eight by the next minute. Battista bet twice more within two minutes, bringing the total investment in reducing the point spread to ninety-five thousand dollars placed in a span of less than three minutes.

  Now, Battista simply waited for the suckers to do their part, and watched the spread drop to where he wanted it from the start. Within an hour’s time, the line had incredibly, and yet predictably, moved three full points, and Battista had a line he liked (Team B minus five). He started firing away, and his first two bets on the favorite, totaling sixty-six thousand and five hundred dollars, moved the line a minute later to Team B minus six. The new spread was still fine by The Sheep, who proceeded to bet an additional three hundred and forty thousand dollars over twelve bets in various ways on Team B within the next six minutes. Altogether, Battista bet over four hundred and seven thousand dollars on Team B. For this particular game, Battista also wagered a total of more than fifty-two thousand dollars on the “over.” The tally for Battista’s bets on this game—in this single offshore account—was: five hundred and fifty-five thousand and two hundred and fifty dollars over twenty-one bets within sixty-three minutes. This tidy example illustrates how fast the market almost always adapts to the sharp money, and why pro gamblers need to bet discreetly or quickly lose the wanted betting line. In the specific case of Battista’s bets on games Donaghy was officiating, obvious bets like those above were sure to arouse the curiosity of all sorts of parties, none of whom had The Sheep’s best interests in mind.