We are now on Day Three of what I’ve been referring to since Day One as the (victimless) (sports betting) Crime (nope) of the Century.
I’m referring, of course, to The Ringer founder/podcaster Bill Simmons giving his daughter’s boyfriend Hank (which is objectively a great name) his FanDuel Sportsbook username and password so that Hank could go into Simmons’ account and place bets Simmons directed him to make, using Simmons’ money.
Scandal! Rules for thee but not for me! Heavens to Murgatroyd!
Yes, Simmons is clearly guilty of breaking the rules. Much like bringing your own candy to the movie theater. Or jaywalking. Or taking home the hotel shampoo even though you didn’t use it. Or letting your dog off leash in a park. Or using the 10 items or fewer line with 14 items.
I can go on.
I’m going to go on.
Making a U-turn on an empty street. Pocketing a bunch of ketchup packets. Eating a grape in the produce aisle. Using a friend’s Costco card. Netflix password sharing, anyone? Hmmmmm?
Point being, this was, and remains, a victimless crime.
Think about it: You’re in California. You’re big into sports betting. You want to get a bet down on your own account. You’re not going to call your dad or brother or cousin in another state to help you along? Come on. Of course you are. Who wouldn’t? Who is it hurting?
Now, I get why proxy rules exist. If Bill Simmons were an intercontinental cocaine dealer, you don’t want him washing money through FanDuel. You don’t want Bill Simmons sharing his account with a third-grader. There are a ton of legitimate reasons to ban proxy betting, but … giving your password to your potential future son-in-law to place a bet on your own account should be, if not perfectly legal, at least perfectly … whatever. Shoulder shrug.
And yes, there’s a less ridiculous reason than “intercontinental cocaine dealer” for the rule that applies directly to Simmons: He was in California, where he couldn’t legally bet, and Hank was in Massachusetts, where he could. Obviously, you can’t have every sports bettor in California texting a buddy in Massachusetts every Sunday morning with a list of bets. At that point, geolocation is meaningless and you’ve basically turned legal sports betting into a nationwide operation with a minor technological inconvenience.
So I get it. You need the rule.
But needing the rule doesn’t mean every violation of the rule needs to be treated like George Clooney trying to rob the Bellagio.
Besides — open secret? — actually catching someone doing this seems pretty unlikely, unless that person tells the world he did it, like Simmons did on his podcast.
Free Hank!
By Tuesday night, about 48 hours after the episode with the Hank story dropped, Simmons addressed the issue on his next podcast.
“I talked about how I got my daughter’s boyfriend to place some bets for me in Massachusetts because I was in L.A. Did not know about the proxy rules,” Simmons said. “Yeah, there’s some real rules with this stuff. And they’ve ruled that not only are the bets going to be voided — and I learned my lesson, apparently proxy betting is not allowed, I actually thought it was, but that’s fine — and now my daughter has to break up with her boyfriend. That was the other thing that … no, I’m kidding. They’re gonna stay together. But yeah, I did learn. Not allowed to do that. So all those bets went out the window. All that special time I had with Hank, out the window as well. The good news is I’m gonna be in Boston and maybe at some point I’ll make some more wagers down the road. So there you go, lesson learned.”
Is it possible Simmons didn’t know about the proxy rules? I mean … maybe? Would I know about them if I wasn’t neck deep in the gambling business? I honestly can’t say.
It does, however, change how I’m looking at Simmons’ original admission. When he first relayed the story on the podcast that posted Sunday night, he paused, twice, for a total of nine seconds, before telling the sordid tale. I, Mr. Gambling Journalist Neck Deep In The Industry, took it as Simmons knowing he shouldn’t tell this story because of the proxy rules, but that he was going to go ahead and do it anyway.
But if he didn’t know about the proxy rules, the pause was probably him thinking, “Is my daughter going to be pissed off I’m telling a story that involves her boyfriend?” That’s relatable.
Also … him saying he’s going to be in Boston soon, and that lessons were learned, and that he plans on doing some betting, leads me to believe the punishment being levied by FanDuel will be short-lived. Like, days.
Feel free to read the law yourself, but the upshot is pretty simple: Once FanDuel determined Simmons violated its account rules, it had to suspend him. (FanDuel hasn’t used the word “suspend,” nor did Simmons mention a suspension on the Tuesday night podcast, but FanDuel said it “actioned” his account, and a suspension would be the logical “action” in accordance with Massachusetts rules.) What Massachusetts law does not say is how long that suspension has to last. In fact, the regulations expressly allow FanDuel to lift it once it investigates and decides the suspension should be lifted.
Be cool, MGC
There is one thing I’d like the Massachusetts Gaming Commission to pay attention to as it reviews all this: FanDuel is The Ringer’s exclusive betting partner. So if Simmons is back betting by this weekend, fine by me, he should be — but I’d like to know Joe Six Pack would get the same treatment.
That’s really the only part of this where I can see an actual issue. Don’t throw the book at Simmons because he’s famous. Don’t give him a pass because he’s famous, either.
But also realize the obvious: Simmons broke a rule that didn’t hurt a soul. FanDuel voided the bets. His account got “actioned.” He learned what proxy betting is. And, perhaps most importantly, Hank’s still dating his daughter.
I think we can all sleep easy tonight.
