Denny the Dupe

I'm just a small-town boy. Money impresses me. Big business impresses me. Important people impress me. I'm a mercenary. I admit it. I want to be a billionaire.

So said Denny McLain en route to winning 31 games for the Detroit Tigers in 1968. His daydreams were both ambitious and ingenuous: the loot of J. Paul Getty and the life-style of Frank Sinatra, a fellow he admired because "he doesn't give a damn about anything." As of last week, McLain was far from being a billionaire. He did succeed, though, in emulating Sinatra somewhat. The day after Frankie testified before a committee investigating organized crime in his native New Jersey, Denny appeared before a federal grand jury in Detroit that is investigating a nationwide sports gambling ring.

Mighty Mouth, as some Detroit fans call McLain, had a lot of explaining to do. According to an article in last week's SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, the star pitcher was one of the partners in a handbook operating out of a restaurant bar in Flint, Mich., in 1967. McLain, an accomplished musician, first became involved, says SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, when he was booked into the Shorthorn Steak House to play the organ. There he met one Jigs Gazell, a bookie who reportedly has connections with a local Syrian mob loosely allied with Detroit's Cosa Nostra. With get-rich-quick promises, Jigs reportedly offered to cut McLain in on the action if he would back the operation with "a few thousand dollars." McLain and his close friend, Edwin Schober, then vice president of Pepsi-Cola Metropolitan Bottling Co. in Detroit, fell for it.

Lingering Stink. "McLain," reports SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, "who had previously been betting basketball and hockey with the Syrians--and losing--agreed and put up the money. Poor, dumb Denny--who is also known to his teammates as Dolphin, because he is a fish as a gambler--was easy game. The money the bettors lost was taken by the Syrians. The payouts on winning bets came from the money McLain and fatherly Ed Schober invested."

Trouble came when a local high-roller wagered $8,000 on a race at the Detroit Race Course. His horse won, and the payoff was supposed to be $46,600. When McLain failed to cough up the money, says SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, he was called before Tony Giacalone, strong-arm man for Detroit Cosa Nostra Boss Joe Zerilli. Tough Tony put his foot down--hard, right on McLain's toes. According to SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, Denny explained in one of several versions that he had dislocated his toes at home while chasing raccoons away from his garbage cans. At the time Detroit was fighting the Boston Red Sox for the pennant. McLain was no help: he lost his last three games of the season, ending with a 17-16 record.

Shortly before the SPORTS ILLUSTRATED article appeared, Baseball Commissioner Bowie Kuhn called McLain in for a long discussion about "certain off-the-field activities" in 1967. Though Kuhn later announced that there was "no indication" that McLain's actions "in any way involve the playing or outcome of baseball games," the stink lingered on. Citing a gangland source, SPORTS ILLUSTRATED says that Tony Giacalone's brother Billy bet big money on Boston to win the 1967 pennant, and that he also bet heavily against Detroit in their final, pennant-deciding game of the season with the California Angels. Having already lost two, possibly three pitching turns because of his injured toes, McLain nevertheless came out to start this game. He was bombed off the mound in the third inning after allowing three runs. Detroit lost the game 8-5, and the pennant.

Uncertain Future. Last week, as Denny the Dupe played hide-and-seek with creditors who are trying to evict him from his suburban Detroit home for nonpayment of seven months' rent, his future in baseball was uncertain. With interests in a paint company, an air freight service and a television-store franchise, he claims a yearly income of $200,000; included is his $90,000 Tiger salary, the checks for which are being sent to a Detroit bank to pay off an outstanding loan of $30,000.

At week's end, when the Tigers opened their spring training camp in Lakeland, Fla., McLain was among the missing. He had just been called in for another long talk with Commissioner Kuhn, after which Kuhn announced that he was suspending McLain until a full investigation into his bookmaking was completed. If any of the allegations prove true, it could well mean the end of McLain's career.

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