MLB’s Dirty Secret? The Conspiracy Behind the Betting Scandals”

I’ve been a nurse for over a decade, and if there’s one thing nursing has taught me, it’s to never ignore when something doesn’t add up. In medicine, an inconsistency is often the first sign of a deeper problem. That same gut feeling hit me recently while reading about Major League Baseball’s latest gambling suspensions.

Two Cleveland Guardians pitchers, Luis Ortiz and Emmanuel Clase, were placed on leave due to suspected involvement in sports betting. Not just benched — removed from play, banned from team facilities, and kept out of trade talks. Their careers, at least temporarily, put on ice. The league acted swiftly and decisively.

Meanwhile, Shohei Ohtani, one of MLB’s most celebrated stars, found himself at the center of a far more jaw-dropping scandal. His interpreter, a man named Ippei Mizuhara, admitted to stealing nearly $17 million from Ohtani over a period of three years — allegedly to fund illegal sports betting. The excuse? Mizuhara impersonated Ohtani, wired millions from his account, and used it to gamble on everything from baseball to the Super Bowl.

And yet, Ohtani walked away clean. Not a single game missed. No fine, no suspension, no leave of absence. MLB declared him a victim, washed its hands, and moved on.

I have to ask: how do you not notice $16 million missing?

Let’s do the math. In 2021, Ohtani was earning about $3 million. In 2022, he bumped up to $5.5 million. It wasn’t until 2023 that he hit $30 million. That means in the first year alone, his interpreter supposedly stole nearly double what Ohtani was paid. In 2022, the theft nearly matched his salary again. Anyone with basic financial awareness would notice that much money slipping away. I know I check my bank account a few times a month — and even call out my wife for sneaking in a McDonald’s order. (Love you, babe.)

So how could Ohtani not notice? That’s the million-dollar — or should I say, $16-million-dollar — question.

Here’s what doesn’t sit right with me. When two lesser-known pitchers are under investigation, MLB takes immediate action. But when the league’s brightest star is involved in a scandal involving almost twenty million dollars and illegal gambling, the response is a protective shrug. It’s as if protecting the image of baseball’s golden boy took precedence over holding everyone accountable equally.

And I get it — Ohtani is box office. He’s international. He’s one of the few players left who moves tickets, sells jerseys, and keeps fans across the globe tuned in. But justice isn’t supposed to care about jersey sales or brand deals. Justice should be blind.

Let’s talk optics: Two pitchers allegedly connected to suspicious prop bets are sidelined indefinitely. A global superstar who had someone siphon millions from his account to feed a gambling habit continues to play uninterrupted. It doesn’t take a conspiracy theorist to question what’s going on behind the scenes.

What’s worse is that this isn’t just about gambling — it’s about the integrity of the game. The very fabric of professional sports depends on trust: that what we’re watching is real, fair, and untainted. If a player, even indirectly, is involved in a scandal and is allowed to keep playing without consequence, it erodes that trust. It tells fans that the rules apply differently depending on who you are.

Now, maybe Ohtani really didn’t know. Maybe he put absolute trust in his interpreter and never looked twice at a wire transfer. Maybe he truly was the victim of an elaborate con. But if you believe that, then you also believe a man making millions didn’t notice millions disappearing — for three whole years.

Let’s be honest. If the roles were reversed — if a journeyman player was involved in a scandal involving stolen money and gambling — there’d be no hesitation. The punishment would be swift. Their name would be dragged through every sports network. But when it’s Ohtani? Silence. Protection. Damage control.

MLB may think it’s protecting its brand by shielding its superstar. But long-term, what it’s really doing is sending the wrong message: that fairness in baseball is negotiable.

So here’s my final thought — and I say this as a lifelong fan, a nurse who believes in ethics, and someone who still believes in the spirit of sport:

If we want baseball to stay sacred, we need to hold everyone to the same standard. No matter the name on the jersey. No matter how many zeroes are in the contract.

What do you think?

And if you like stories that challenge the narrative and ask the questions others avoid — follow my journey on Instagram: @MalenurseLife

Stay healthy,

Nurse Oliver