“My name is Steven, and I am a gambler.”
Let me begin this piece by pulling the standard opening greeting from a meeting of people dealing with the harsh realities of addiction. Even though I haven’t made a wager on a sporting event in years, I am still considered a gambler, much the same way many alcoholics see themselves years after putting down the bottle.
You’re never truly healed from the affliction. There is no pill or prescription medicine, no FDA-approved product you’ll see on television that comes with all sorts of adverse side effects which will reduce the likelihood of symptoms reappearing.
It used to be more difficult to make a real wager on a sporting event. Aside from a handshake wager on the Super Bowl or an office bracket pool for March Madness, gambling for real required a trip to a casino sportsbook or a racetrack.
The advent of online gaming, which grew from fantasy sports, has now made it relatively simple—and far too accessible—for people to make wagers on games, or even the individual exploits of an athlete.
The modern collegiate athlete is, and always was, the target.
Online gaming platforms found a ready-made audience of high school kids and college students who got used to choosing sides for make-believe rosters. The commercialization of businesses like DraftKings or FanDuel has created a newer, younger and sometimes more gullible audience.
Nowhere is the collision of these two realities more glaring, or more tragic, than in the unfolding saga of Texas Tech quarterback Brendan Sorsby.
Last week, Sorsby filed a high-stakes injunction against the NCAA in an attempt to preserve his college eligibility. The legal maneuver comes on the heels of revelations that the quarterback recently sought treatment for a severe gambling addiction—a disorder reportedly fueled by thousands of wagers placed while he was an active NCAA athlete.
If the allegations are a window into addiction, they are also a bizarre roadmap of a sports gambler’s desperation. According to a report on ESPN, gaming regulators in multiple states have launched investigations into Sorsby’s alleged betting activity.
Under NCAA rules, Sorsby could be banned from the upcoming season—his final year of eligibility—for betting on sports. Sorsby placed a bet on Indiana when he was a redshirt freshman for the Hoosiers in 2022. According to the NCAA rulebook, an athlete can permanently lose eligibility when placing a bet on his or her own team.
Sorsby’s suit admits that he is “currently ineligible” to play for Texas Tech because he violated the NCAA’s gambling rules. Sorsby has made thousands of small-dollar bets in recent years.
Sorsby’s case isn’t new. In fact, it’s not even the most high-profile case of an athlete who couldn’t beat the addiction.
Art Schlichter played professional football for nearly 10 years. A highly touted prospect with the Ohio State Buckeyes, Schlichter’s professional career was cut short by a gambling addiction that resulted in him facing legal trouble for nearly four decades.
Sometimes I am home in the middle of the night after filing a story, and I’ll flip the channels on the television before drifting off to sleep. Inevitably, I’ll find a channel showing live horse racing from racetracks in Australia and New Zealand I’ve never heard of before. I’ll watch the races, pick a winner in my head and let the race unfold.
The itch is always there. The temptation just a couple of swipes on my phone away from becoming a reality.
But I am a husband—a man with responsibilities to a wife, kids and pets. I have bigger and better things to do.
The college athlete, on the other hand, is not quite so headstrong.
Bombarded by the flashing lights of the sports betting world, which are now directly tied into the games they play, college kids find it a little harder to stay away from the virtual betting window.
But the most damning—and perhaps most heartbreaking—revelation is that Sorsby reportedly bet on Indiana football games in 2022 while he was a member of the roster.
His stated reason? “To feel more connected to the team.”
There are all sorts of reasons we fall victim to the lure of the wager. We like winning, as do most of us. We like being the smartest one in the room and we like showing off.
Those aren’t horrible attributes for the most part, but they come with a price tag.
At stake for Sorsby is the multimillion-dollar deal he signed with Texas Tech for what was supposed to be his final season of college football. Sorsby alleges the NCAA abandoned its obligations and duties to promote his well-being, and he says the lawsuit was filed to expedite the reinstatement process.
Sorsby is seeking a hearing for a temporary injunction by June 15, one week before the deadline to file paperwork for the NFL’s supplemental draft.
Odds are—pun intended—Sorsby won’t find relief from the NCAA, nor anyone else.
If that seems harsh, excessive or unfair, you’re not wrong to have that belief. If that seems like the appropriate decision to help someone clearly struggling with addiction, you’re also not wrong.
The addict is oftentimes both the victim and the offender.
That’s all.
