Ohtani, Safe at Home

MLB gets the outcome it wants

Shohei Ohtani, the greatest and most marketable star Major League Baseball has, will not be implicated in what threatened to be one of the more massive gambling scandals American sports has seen in recent times. In an unusually swift public announcement, federal prosecutors in Los Angeles filed a complaint accusing Ohtani’s former interpreter and close friend, Ippei Mizuhara, of stealing more than $16 million over two years from the Los Angeles Dodgers superstar. Mizuhara was accused of bank fraud, which can carry a maximum fine of up to $1 million and/or up to 30 years in prison. “I want to emphasize this point: Mr. Ohtani is considered a victim in this case,” U.S. Attorney Martin Estrada told reporters.

Estrada said that there was no evidence Ohtani had any knowledge of Mizuhara's gambling activities or use of his bank account to pay his debts. He said investigators combed through years of text messages between the two men, who were rarely if ever apart, and found no discussion of gambling.

The scandal threatened to damage Ohtani and Major League Baseball because as much as $4 million had been wired from Ohtani’s bank account to a bookmaker in California, where sports betting remains illegal. Initially, Mizhuhara, with Ohtani’s apparent consent, had told ESPN the baseball player had agreed to pay down his gambling debts. Once it became clear that story, whether true or not, put Ohtani in legal jeopardy, Ohtani’s team accused Mizuhara of theft.

I will admit the announcement from federal prosecutors makes this case appear much less dire for Ohtani and MLB than I initially believed. I was skeptical that Mizuhara could successfully steal from Ohtani—allegedly impersonating him over the phone—and I wondered why, initially, both men told ESPN there was an agreement in place to pay down his debts. Federal prosecutors could find no evidence Mizuhara bet on baseball, which MLB forbids and could have opened up Ohtani to a deeply uncomfortable question: were his personal funds used, somehow, to wager on his own games? Mizuhara’s gambling losses were staggering, made possible (without Ohtani’s apparent knowledge) by the pilfered cash. The feds claimed the interpreter placed 19,000 wagers over 25 months, betting $12,800 on average, winning $142 million, losing $182 million, and going $40 million in debt.

Ohtani skeptics may wonder if the Department of Justice is covering, somehow, for MLB. There’s no evidence of that and no reason federal prosecutors who don’t defer to powerful politicians would feel the need to safeguard one professional sports league. Ohtani, the Japanese global icon, is free to play baseball—to slug and to, eventually, pitch—and keep reaping rewards for himself and the sport.

But baseball—and all leagues in the United States, including the NFL and NBA—must understand this will not be the last gambling scandal that seizes national headlines. More scandals, some potentially ruinous, are inevitable.