How MLB figures trade million-dollar careers for a few dollars
Fear of being discovered and going to prison seem the only way to deter gamblers and game fixing
Emmanuel Clase had earned more than $12 million as a reliever and planned to make another $6.4 million next season with the Cleveland Guardians. At just 27 years old and with the ability to throw a cut fastball at 95 mph, many more millions surely awaited him.
You’d think that would be enough to avoid losing everything in a sports betting scandal.
However, federal prosecutors allege that, over the past several years, Clase routinely conspired with a pair of as-yet-unidentified bettors to throw certain pitches in certain ways so that they could successfully bet on the outcome, for example, that the velocity would be below a certain number. (Yes, betting over/under 97-95 mph is a bet offered).
Prosecutors allege that the gamblers involved won at least $400,000 in Class-related bets. A portion, sometimes as little as $2,000 (a fraction compared to his salary), was supposedly returned to Clase.
That included a game on May 28, 2025, against the Los Angeles Dodgers, where, according to a federal indictment, two bettors gambled $4,000 on whether their first pitch would be a ball or hit the batter.
Apparently, Clase did his part, throwing low and outside the strike zone. However, Dodgers outfielder Andy Pages swung anyway, missing the pitch and getting a strike.
The bet was a failure.
Clase retired all three batters in order, securing the save in Cleveland’s victory. However, this didn’t do much good for the gamblers, one of whom sent Clase a GIF image of a man hanging himself with toilet paper, according to the indictment. Class responded with a sad puppy emoji.
We can only imagine the emojis Clase has been using since his arrest on Sunday, which not only cost him the remainder of that massive contract and a possible lifetime ban from Major League Baseball, but possibly up to 20 years in prison.
All potentially lost for so little.
Class and Guardians starting pitcher Luis Ortiz — also charged Sunday with similar alleged pitch-fixing activities — are innocent until proven guilty, of course, but whether federal authorities are after something is almost certain. They are rarely wrong.
And that might be the only thing that can preserve the integrity of the sport in America. At least we can hope.
In recent weeks, a wave of scandals, plots and accusations related to sports betting have been unleashed. Professional basketball. College basketball. Now, the MLB.
The accused range from rich and famous people to impoverished and unknown people; from young people to veterans. Trying to design a preventive and educational system seems impossible. Who can even explain individual motivations or circumstances? Some needed money; others, no. Some were naive; others, experienced.
There is little in common between, say, a respected 49-year-old Hall of Famer turned NBA coach, like Chauncey Billupsthree players from the University of New Orleans basketball team (with a 4-27 record) and a Dominican relief pitcher in the prime of his lucrative Major League career.
The way to end this is to prevent it from starting. The fear of discovery—and the fact that the federal government is regularly arresting people—might be the only thing that can deter everyone (or almost everyone) from acting honestly.
Common sense dictates that federal prosecutors won’t uncover everything. Still, they try, with offices in New York and Philadelphia stopping people placing small bets on random shots, on the rotation of players in late-season NBA games and even on the point spreads of the little-known Southland Conference.
No one should think they are safe.
Bettors, of course, have been fixing sports games for practically as long as sports have existed. Baseball itself has seen a World Series compromised and its all-time leading home run hitter excluded from the Hall of Fame for this type of practice.
A launch in Cleveland dirt seems almost ancient.
However, never before has sports betting been so present in the minds of Americans. Not only are they legal in 38 states and the District of Columbia, but teams, leagues, media outlets, and everyone else profit from this business. It’s on your TV. It’s on your phone. It bombards you, whether you bet or not. Promo Code: Everywhere.
This has probably created greater temptation. Some college players have bet on themselves or participated in unsophisticated schemes; a New Orleans player was allegedly heard during a timeout telling two others to stop scoring to prevent his team from accidentally covering the deficit (the margin was 23 points; they lost by 25).
The good news? The ease of betting has also made it easier to detect, at least, if bets are being placed through legal channels. Integrity monitoring systems are excellent.
There is a movement to ban individual bets, such as a player’s total rebounds or the speed of a pitch. After all, they are the easiest to manipulate. MLB announced Monday that major U.S. sportsbooks will impose a $200 limit on baseball bets focused on individual pitches and prohibit them from being included in parlay bets, in an attempt to reduce the incentive for fixing. They are good ideas.
However, sports betting comes in many forms: legal, yes, but also through illegal betting houses or accounts in tax havens. Additionally, there are daily fantasy sports and the prediction market, where government oversight is virtually non-existent.
This looks like a game of whack-a-mole with a mallet. Legislation is always a reaction, not a prevention.
Ultimately, the fear of discovery is almost the only universal deterrent. Corruption is an individual decision, and prison is a powerful deterrent. No one wants to be the next to send messages with sad puppy emojis.
