I knew these games were rigged and that players were being cheated.
In a Brooklyn federal courtroom, former NBA player Damon Jones became the first among more than thirty defendants to plead guilty in a sweeping federal gambling investigation — admitting not only to exploiting insider knowledge of the league he once served, but to lending his celebrity as a lure in rigged poker games that cost victims millions. His fall traces a familiar arc: proximity to power and privilege, slowly converted into instruments of deception. The case, still expanding, raises quiet questions about the porous boundaries between sport, celebrity, and organized crime.
- Jones admitted to feeding nonpublic NBA injury information — including details about LeBron James and Anthony Davis — to bettors, systematically defrauding sportsbooks over more than a year.
- He also served as a celebrity 'face card' at rigged poker games in Miami and the Hamptons, knowingly drawing wealthy players to tables equipped with hidden cameras, altered shuffling machines, and X-ray cheating technology.
- The operation funneled millions to Gambino, Genovese, and Bonanno crime families, who enforced debts through violence and threats — placing Jones at the intersection of sports fraud and organized crime.
- Victims of the poker scheme alone lost over $9.5 million, and Jones now faces a combined potential sentence of up to five-plus years, along with forfeiture of $73,000.
- With no other defendants yet willing to plead guilty and prosecutors expanding charges against figures like Terry Rozier, the investigation continues to widen around Jones' cooperation.
Damon Jones stood in a Brooklyn federal courtroom in late April and admitted to crimes that would define the final chapter of his public life. The former NBA journeyman — who had earned over twenty million dollars across eleven seasons and ten teams — pleaded guilty to two counts of conspiracy to commit wire fraud, becoming the first of more than thirty defendants to do so in a sprawling federal gambling investigation.
The first scheme was built on access. From late 2022 through early 2024, Jones conspired to defraud sportsbooks by sharing nonpublic NBA injury information with bettors — including details about LeBron James and Anthony Davis, players he had been close to during a stint as an unofficial assistant with the Los Angeles Lakers. In court, he read from a prepared statement: "I would like to sincerely apologize to the court, my family, my peers and also the National Basketball Association."
The second scheme was more predatory. Jones was paid to act as a celebrity 'face card' at rigged poker games in Miami and the Hamptons — his NBA name drawing high-end bettors to tables secretly equipped with altered shuffling machines, hidden cameras, and X-ray equipment. He knew the games were fixed. For one Hamptons event, he was paid twenty-five hundred dollars. When briefed on his role, he texted his co-conspirators: "Y'all know I know what I'm doing!!" Victims across these games lost more than nine and a half million dollars, with proceeds benefiting the Gambino, Genovese, and Bonanno crime families.
Jones faces twenty-one to twenty-seven months for the sports betting conspiracy and forty-eight to sixty-three months for the poker scheme, with sentencing set for January 6 before two separate judges. He agreed to forfeit seventy-three thousand dollars. Leaving court, he offered reporters only four words: "To God be the glory." The investigation, meanwhile, continues to expand — prosecutors announced new charges against former Miami Heat guard Terry Rozier the day before Jones' hearings, suggesting the full architecture of the fraud has yet to be fully mapped.
Damon Jones stood in a Brooklyn federal courtroom on a Tuesday in late April and admitted to crimes that would reshape the final chapter of his life. The former NBA player, who had earned more than twenty million dollars over eleven seasons playing for ten different teams, pleaded guilty to two counts of conspiracy to commit wire fraud. He was the first person to do so in what had become a sprawling federal investigation—one that had already ensnared more than thirty defendants, including reputed mobsters and other basketball figures whose names still carried weight in the sport.
The scheme Jones confessed to was straightforward in its mechanics and brazen in its execution. From December 2022 through March 2024, he had conspired with others to defraud sports betting companies by leveraging information he possessed as a former player with connections inside the NBA. He knew things the public did not: which stars were injured, which would sit out games, which would play limited minutes. He sold or attempted to sell this nonpublic intelligence to bettors, prosecutors said. In at least one instance, he provided information about LeBron James and Anthony Davis—players he had worked alongside during his time as an unofficial assistant coach with the Los Angeles Lakers in the 2022-2023 season—suggesting they were injured or would see reduced playing time. Reading from a prepared statement in court, Jones acknowledged the violation. "I would like to sincerely apologize to the court, my family, my peers and also the National Basketball Association," he said.
But the sports betting conspiracy was only half of what Jones had done. In a second hearing that same day, he admitted to a more elaborate and predatory scheme. He had been paid to serve as what prosecutors called a "face card" at rigged poker games in Miami and the Hamptons. His job was simple: use his NBA celebrity to draw high-end bettors to the tables. What those bettors did not know was that the games themselves were fixed. The operators used altered shuffling machines, hidden cameras, special sunglasses, and X-ray equipment built into the table itself to cheat the players systematically. Jones was instructed to pay close attention to the cheating apparatus, to fold his hand when uncertain, to play his role. For one game in the Hamptons, he was paid twenty-five hundred dollars. When asked if he understood his role, he texted back: "Y'all know I know what I'm doing!!" He knew, in fact, exactly what he was doing. Reading another statement in court, he said: "Based on conversations with my co-conspirators before and after the poker games, I knew these games were rigged and that players were being cheated."
The victims of the poker scheme lost more than nine and a half million dollars. The operation, prosecutors alleged, had benefited the Gambino, Genovese, and Bonanno crime families—organizations that used violence and threats to ensure debts were repaid and the scheme continued to function. Jones was one of three people charged in both conspiracies, making him a central figure in an operation that had systematized fraud across two distinct gambling ecosystems.
Originally from Galveston, Texas, Jones had built a career as a journeyman player and later as a coach. His fall from that position was now quantified in sentencing guidelines. For the sports betting conspiracy, he faced twenty-one to twenty-seven months in prison. For the poker scheme, the guidelines called for sixty-three to seventy-eight months, but prosecutors agreed to subtract fifteen months in exchange for his guilty plea, bringing the potential sentence to forty-eight to sixty-three months. He also agreed to forfeit seventy-three thousand dollars across both cases. Sentencing was scheduled for January 6 before two different judges—LaShann DeArcy Hall for the sports betting case and Ramon Reyes for the poker games case.
As Jones left the courtroom with his lawyer, Kenneth Montgomery, he offered no comment to reporters except a single phrase: "To God be the glory." None of the other defendants in the sweep had shown any willingness to plead guilty. On the day before Jones' hearings, prosecutors announced they were seeking additional charges against Terry Rozier, a former Miami Heat guard who had been arrested alongside Jones in October. The investigation was still expanding, still pulling in new defendants, still uncovering the architecture of fraud that had operated in plain sight among people with access to the sport's most valuable information.
Notable Quotes
I would like to sincerely apologize to the court, my family, my peers and also the National Basketball Association.— Damon Jones, in court statement
Based on conversations with my co-conspirators before and after the poker games, I knew these games were rigged and that players were being cheated.— Damon Jones, in court statement
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would someone with Jones' background—a man who had already made twenty million dollars—risk everything by getting involved in something like this?
That's the question that hangs over the whole thing. He wasn't desperate for money. But he had access that most people don't have, and access is a kind of currency all its own. Once you're inside that world, once you know which players are hurt, once you understand how that information moves through the betting markets, the temptation to monetize it becomes almost structural.
The poker scheme seems different, though. That's not just using information. That's actively deceiving people, luring them in.
Exactly. That's where it crosses into something darker. He's using his name, his reputation, his presence as a former NBA player to draw people to tables where they're going to be systematically robbed. He knew it was happening. He admitted he knew.
And the organized crime angle—that's what makes this feel bigger than just a gambling problem.
Right. This wasn't some isolated scheme. The Gambino, Genovese, and Bonanno families were running this. They used violence and threats to keep people in line. Jones was operating inside that machinery, whether he fully grasped the scope of it or not.
What happens to him now?
Prison time, almost certainly. Somewhere between four and five years, depending on how the judges rule. He'll forfeit seventy-three thousand dollars. His career is over. His reputation is destroyed. He goes from being someone who worked with LeBron James to being a cautionary tale.
Do you think the other defendants will follow his lead and plead guilty?
The reporting suggests they won't. They're fighting it. Jones was the first to break, and that might actually make things harder for everyone else—prosecutors will use his cooperation as leverage, and the evidence will only get clearer as the cases move forward.