Betting on Phil

People ought to be able to do what they want with their money. It doesn’t bother me if a rich guy like Phil Mickelson gambles what most people consider outrageous amounts. And if he bets on golf tournaments he plays in. I can see why some people might be concerned about the allegations professional gambler Billy Walters is making in his forthcoming book “Gambler: Secrets from a Life at Risk.”

In that book, excerpted on the Fire Pit Collective website last week, Walters writes:

In late September 2012, Phil called me from Medinah Country Club just outside Chicago, site of the 39th Ryder Cup matches between the United States and Europe. He was feeling supremely confident that the American squad led by Tiger Woods, Bubba Watson, and Phil himself was about to reclaim the Cup from the Euros. He was so confident that he asked me to place a $400,000 wager for him on the U.S. team to win …

“Have you lost your [expletive] mind?” I told him. “Don’t you remember what happened to Pete Rose? … “You’re seen as a modern-day Arnold Palmer,” I added. “You’d risk all that for this? I want no part of it.’’

There’s no compelling reason to accept Walters’ story other than it sounds like something that the Phil Mickelson who occupies the public imagination might do. Mickelson enjoys gambling; he has a lot of discretionary income and was trying to bet on himself—on his own team. If he’d wanted to bet $40 or $400 0r $4,000 on the Ryder Cup, maybe no one would raise an eyebrow.

I’d be more worried about Mickelson betting (and losing) huge amounts on NBA and NFL games than betting on his own team in a golf match. While we generally don’t want athletes owing money to bookmakers who might ask them to settle up by affecting outcomes, gambling is part of golf culture, so much so that handicapping protocols are built into the game.

“You don’t know what pressure is until you’ve played for $5 a hole with only $2 in your pocket,” Lee Trevino (allegedly) said, and I don’t know many golfers who haven’t risked an uncomfortable amount on a four-foot putt.

Walters is said to have won (and lost) hundreds of millions over the years. He also, some have pointed out, is a felon, convicted of insider trading. Walters has said Mickelson could have saved him from going to prison had he testified in his case, so he might have a grudge against him. And salacious gossip about Mickelson could only help sales of his book.

But it’s a he-said/he-said story. If you don’t like Mickelson, then maybe you want to believe Walters. If you’re a fan, then maybe you want to believe Mickelson’s assertion to Sports Illustrated that he never bet on the Ryder Cup (he didn’t say he didn’t try to) and that he “would never undermine the integrity of the game.”

I don’t think betting on one’s own team is undermining the integrity of the game. Betting on the other guys, yeah, for sure—but one of the cornerstones of the PGA Tour has always been that these players are independent contractors risking their own (or their sponsors’) money by trying to earn a living on tour.

Before the Saudis and their LIV Tour disrupted the sport by offering guys like Mickelson nine-figure sinecures and no-cut hit-and-giggle events, seeking to play professional golf was nothing but betting on oneself.

As I read Mickelson’s statement to Sports Illustrated, it’s an artfully crafted evasion. He acknowledges his gambling “addiction” and says: “I have previously conveyed my remorse, took responsibility, have gotten help, have been fully committed to therapy that has positively impacted me, and I feel good about where I am now.”

Believe it if you want to. Mickelson ought to be able to do what he wants with his money. If someone alleges he’s fixing golf matches, I’ll look at their evidence.

But I don’t believe Walters is making his allegations up. Because if he is, and I was Phil Mickelson, I wouldn’t have issued an artfully crafted denial. I would have come out and declared my intention to sue my former golf buddy for libel.

But the thing is, Walters didn’t really write this book. He “collaborated” with Armen Keteyian on it. Keteyian is a former investigative reporter for Sports Illustrated and chief investigative correspondent for CBS News. He was a contributing correspondent to “60 Minutes.”

I imagine Keteyian interviewed Walters and fact-checked the stories he could fact-check (and interviewed other people in the process). Then he tried to ventriloquize his subject’s voice. While Walters’ name is in much larger type on the cover, it’s Keteyian’s book as much as Walters’.

And I trust Keteyian to adhere to a certain standard. Last Friday, he published a short piece on The Firepit Collective where he detailed how he checked out the story.

“Based on my career as an investigative reporter for the past 40-odd years, I was all too aware of the incendiary nature of Mickelson’s Ryder Cup call,” he writes. “And, if I didn’t feel completely confident in the fact that we could defend it in a court of law—my standard of reporting—it never would have seen the light of day. Which is how I feel about every last word in ‘Gambler.’”

We cannot know what’s in someone else’s heart—whether a person is secretly treacherous or true—and we are all entitled to private opinions and judgments. I don’t like Phil Mickelson but it’s not because he gambles; it’s an irrational feeling that derives from the way he carries himself and his self-regarding public persona. I don’t like the image he’s crafted; I have no insight into the real person.

I don’t know Billy Walters either, only the swashbuckling legend he’s tried to promulgate. Or for that matter Keteyian, though I understand the nature of the work he does. I believe Mickelson tried to bet $400,000 on the Ryder Cup. I just don’t care.

We oughtn’t be scandalized by gambling, though maybe Mickelson is right when he refers to his addiction. It destroys some people, and the proliferation of touch-screen wagering is going to lead to a lot of heartbreak.

A lot of us are lucky enough that we are able to quit doing things we like before they undo us. Risk is something we all have to take on from time to time; some people like the feeling while others just get queasy.

There have been times in my life when I wished my tolerance for it was higher—sometimes I wish I’d bet more on myself more often.