HenryHill. How I put the fix in. SportsIllustrated. 16 Feb 1981.

According to published reports that first appeared last month, federal law enforcement authorities in New York are investigating charges of point shaving at Boston College during the 1978-79 basketball season. These allegations were made last year by Henry Hill, a government informer seeking immunity in this and other cases. A grand jury is expected to hear testimony on Hill's charges within a few weeks to consider indictments.

I'm the Boston College basketball fixer. It was a day's pay, it was interesting and it gave me a nice feeling. If you're not a gambler, you'll never understand, but it was a rush.

Here's what I did: I paid three Boston College basketball players during the 1978-79 season to shave points—not to blow games—in nine games between Dec. 16, 1978 and March 1, 1979. The players were Rick Kuhn and Jim Sweeney, who were in it from the beginning, and Ernie Cobb, the star of the team, who was with us the last five games (see box page 16). It cost me $2,500 per player per game—except when they screwed up and I didn't give them anything or cut them back. As a complimentary service, I bet money for the players when they so requested. We really had our ups and downs, but when the last pass had been thrown out of bounds, I had won on six of the games, lost on three, and made between $75,000 and $100,000. Not bad for 11 weeks' work. A game or two I might have cleared only $3,500, but so what? I wouldn't mind that once a week, and I don't think you would either. My partners, Jimmy Burke and Peter Vario, and Vario's associate, Richard Perry (see box page 18), made a quarter of a million or more, and who knows how many millions others made. And the players probably made about $10,000 each. But, frankly, it wasn't as easy as I anticipated. Nothing ever is.

It sounds simple. Heck, all we wanted was BC to win by less than the betting line when it was favored and to lose by more than the line when it was the underdog. So we'd always bet on the BC opponent and everything would be perfect, right? Wrong. Things can get mucked up damn fast. The BC athletic director, Bill Flynn, says he's extremely disturbed that someone would come in and take advantage of young people like that. Baloney. Why should I feel bad about the kids? Look, they didn't feel bad about taking my money. And they didn't seem to feel bad in those games when they didn't fulfill their word. All they said was they were sorry but they tried. Sorry? Sometimes I'm blowing $35,000 and they say they're sorry? That's a sorry excuse.

Like a lot of things in life, I just sort of stumbled into this deal. I guess you could say it got started when I was doing time in two federal prisons in Pennsylvania between 1976 and 1978, for extorting money from a Florida labor union. This deal never thrilled me because I was acquitted by a state court, and then the Federal Government turned around and tried me again. Smacks of double jeopardy, wouldn't you say? But it wasn't all that bad because I met Paul Mazzei there and became quite friendly with him. A couple of days after my release from prison on July 15, 1978—I remember because it was my daughter's birthday—I flew right to Pittsburgh to talk to Paul about some business we might do. You got a business, I got a business.

I went to Paul's duplex, and while I was there he introduced me to a friend of his, Tony Perla. I don't know if Boston College was mentioned at this meeting or at another meeting a week or so later. Anyway, Perla told me that he had a friend who was a basketball player at Boston College, named Rick Kuhn. Perla said that his brother, Rocca, went to the same high school as Kuhn and that they were close friends. So Tony Perla said to me, "I'm cultivating Kuhn now. The kid wants to do business. I've bought him a color TV and paid for some work on his car." They had been working with Kuhn most of the summer because they had this basketball deal in mind. Plus, they realized we couldn't do it just with Kuhn. He wasn't important enough as a player, so the Pittsburgh guys talked with Rick about this and he said he'd talk to Sweeney, his buddy and one of the best players. I guess it was a nice talk.

Perla didn't seem much like me. But I asked around about him, and the word was he was O.K. Most of all, he was Mazzei's best friend, and that counted for a lot with me. I could tell we had one thing in common: he was an honorable type of person. Honor is very big with me.

A few months later Mazzei and the Perlas and I decided we might go into a joint venture. Because the Pittsburgh people were the ones friendly with Kuhn, they wanted me to be the muscle guy, the tough guy, the one with the—shall we say—organizational strength.

I was to set everything up, arrange for all the money, then handle things if something happened and a bookie wouldn't pay or any other problem came up. So we discussed fixing the games, and I told them I'd have to get O.K.s from my bosses—Burke and the Varios, Peter and his father Paul. My bosses told me to arrange the appointment for Perla and Mazzei to fly in from Pittsburgh. I set it up for Roberts Lounge, a bar on Lefferts Boulevard in Queens near Aqueduct, in the late part of November 1978. I met there at 12 noon with Peter Vario, Burke, Tony Perla and Mazzei. Perry wasn't there, but Peter said he was over at the track doing whatever he does and that we could see him after the double. The Pittsburgh guys wanted to make sure I was going to pay the players. I told them I was. And we discussed how I would guarantee the money to Perla, who would turn it over to Kuhn, who would pay Sweeney and, as it turned out later, Cobb. Anyway, no problem. Then we set up an appointment in Boston to meet the kids.

It was early in December, and I flew to Boston for a meeting with Mazzei, the Perlas, Sweeney and Kuhn at the Logan Airport Hilton. It was just a short get-acquainted session in a room that looked out on the runways. The main thing is that the players struck me as over-ambitious. They couldn't wait. You talk about being ready. So I staked them—paid them $500 for coming and talking. Just a little thanks for the pleasure of their company. Then I flew right back to New York, feeling pretty good.

Now we're getting down to serious business. On Dec. 14, three days after the Lufthansa job at Kennedy Airport, I flew to Pittsburgh and stayed over at Mazzei's house. This is where I met a girl named Judy Wicks, who was introduced to me as a friend of Tony's. When I asked her if she wanted to take a ride to Boston with us, she said, "Why not?" The next afternoon Rocca, Tony, Mazzei, Judy and I went up there. After we arrived, we went right to the Sheraton at the Prudential Center and took three rooms—a suite and two others. Then Rocca or Tony called Rick and set up the appointment for 7 or 7:30 p.m. When I spoke to Kuhn, he said he would bring Sweeney with him. I said fine.

After the players showed up, we started off with general B.S. conversation. I asked how the team was doing, and they said they had a really good shot to make the NCAAs. or at least the NIT. They knew they had a damn good team, and they did. They finished 21-9 that year, so nobody can accuse me of lousing up their season. We talked about their careers, and they both felt they were either too small or not good enough to make the pros. I asked them questions because I wanted to know what was possessing them to go into this venture. The players ordered dinner from room service. Both of them had lobster at about $13 or $14 a throw, but what's a few dollars among new friends? And we ordered some wine and drank a bottle or two. I don't remember what kind, but I think that's understandable. Because of the Lufthansa job, I obviously had a lot on my mind. Look at it this way: I had just fried some very big fish, so it was hard for me to always keep my mind on the guppies. Know what I mean?

But the important thing is that Kuhn and Sweeney knew exactly what I was there for. They knew that basically I was the heavy money out of New York. They also knew I was the one with the connections. Everybody wanted to make sure that there would be no problem in getting the money down, and I promised I could guarantee $25,000—but that was all. Betting big money on college basketball is very hard because very few bookies get into it seriously. In fact, the bookies usually will handle it only as kind of a complimentary deal for someone betting a lot on football or baseball. And even then, all they'll get you down for is $500, maybe $1,000 tops.

So I needed a string of bookmakers, maybe 10 or 15. I even let a few of them know what was going on, so they'd always be there to help me spread the money around. Most books have a limit on how much action they'll take on one game. If the limit is $25,000, then anything above that, they call somebody else and get them to take it. It works out. I had one guy in Manhattan who would lay off in Connecticut who would lay off in Cleveland who would lay off in California. There's a whole network.

That sounded fine to everybody, and at this point I got into conversation with Sweeney. See, Sweeney was a businessman like me. Birds of a feather. First he and Rick wanted $3,500 a game, but I wound up chewin' 'em down to $2,500.

Because Tony Perla was going to be my contact with the players, I told them I would pass the word on the betting line through him before each game. Then they wanted to make damn sure they could bet their money, and I told them I'd get them down as best I could. As it turned out, I guess I bet for the players two or three times, but I could only get down about $2,000 or so, never the full $5,000. I don't remember which games. Later, when Cobb joined our little group. he didn't want his money bet, and that was fine with me.

Then we discussed which games we would do business on. Sweeney took out one of those little schedule cards, circled the games he thought they could fool with, and gave the card to me. They kept saying they thought they had a good team and they liked the idea of just shaving points and not blowing games. The thing that got me was they were familiar with betting, they knew about spreads, they were not dumb kids. They knew how to shave, because when I tried to explain to them, they said, "Naw, we know all that s—."

The players also wanted to make sure they'd get their money right after each game. I'd either wire the money to Perla or send it by a messenger, like Judy. Or sometimes I would have other business dealings with the Pittsburgh guys, so it would just be a bookkeeping thing, moving figures from one column to the other. I knew Perla was wiring the money to Kuhn a lot of the time because that would be the quickest. We wouldn't use our names on wires. Sometimes we used the name of someone like Paul's girl friend.

Through all this, the players were gung-ho. One hundred percent. Now they're trying to con me, talk me, persuade me. I've been involved in quite a bit of betting and I definitely know the score. But there they sat, drinking my wine in my hotel suite, and more or less trying to convince me that it's absolutely a 100% sure deal. They were selling me. They were the salesmen, not me.

I'm thinking everything is going so great that I better show a little bravado. See, I'm thinking if they don't do what they're supposed to, all that happens is they don't get their $2,500. Meanwhile, I'll be out $25,000, $30,000, whatever. So I say, "Don't play games with me. We're not talking about cigarette money. We're talking about serious money." The meeting took about two hours, and, as it happened, our first game to shave was the next night against Harvard. So we stayed over.

Kuhn gave us four tickets, right behind Sweeney's parents. So there are me, Judy, Tony and Rocca sitting right in the middle of the Boston College section, drinking beer and rooting like hell for Harvard to lose by less than 12. I got a little nervous because everybody was turning around looking at us, staring. In my work, you don't want nobody staring. I felt great. I watched the boys throw the ball out of bounds, and it was gorgeous. Here are a few examples. Sweeney has a great night with 18 points, if you just look at the box score, but three times I saw him throw the ball away. Kuhn seemed to be doing his part, too. On one play he fumbled the ball out of bounds. On another play he fouled a guy but the basket counted. The Harvard player missed the free throw, but the ball bounced over Kuhn, and the same Harvard guy grabbed it, drove around Kuhn and scored. I liked what I saw. I mean Kuhn was pretty bad.

I bet $15,000 on this first game, just testing the waters. The waters tested fine. Everybody went home happy not only because BC won, which is good for the coach and the fans, but because they won by only 86-83, which was good for me and my people. And it was especially gratifying for Sweeney and Kuhn.

It seemed like the start of a nice marriage. I saw Sweeney doing things, and I thought, "Ahhhhh, that's my boy." I enjoyed it a lot. Wouldn't you? Right after the game I gave Rocca $5,000, all in hundreds, for the players. I didn't get down for that much on the game. I made some money. Jimmy probably made $10,000, Perry maybe $15,000. After the game my group went to a bar across the street for a little champagne and a good time.

Now the UCLA game was coming up, and Tony was talking to Kuhn almost every day. Tony said we're on, and I said, "Fine, beautiful with me." So now I was reaching out for more bookmakers because I wanted to get down for more money. This was real easy money, but I knew any normal book would become suspicious real quick if I kept calling up with bets only against Boston College. I got down pretty good, maybe $25,000, $30,000. and it worked out great.

Look at me. I'm making money, my partners are making money, a few of the bookies I've let in on the deal are making money, and the players are getting paid. Yes, sir, I had come a long way. I was born and raised in Brooklyn and I started gambling at age 7 by playing cards in the schoolyard for nickels and dimes. Mine was the kind of neighborhood where half of us grew up to be cops and the other half grew up to be robbers. I like betting on sports and I've done them all. In fact. I made a killing on college basketball in 1970-71. I'd like to say I'm pretty good, but the truth is I'm way behind. There is no way I'm a winner. So I don't gamble anymore. It's a trap, a terrible habit. Oh, I did backslide last month and bet $200 on the Super Bowl. Naturally, I lost.

I think of myself as a good guy now. I'm trying to make amends because prior to this I did some things I shouldn't have. But I've always been a gentleman, always. And my best days are ahead of me because I'm becoming a better man. [These reformed assholes are the fucking worst.] As to being scared right now, I try not to think about it.

Next was the Rhode Island game. This is one Sweeney had circled, but I was feeling jittery because a lot of people—hell, my people, Peter Vario, Burke, Perry, bookies—had bet a lot of money. But the other books were starting to get a little hep, so they were squeezing down Rhode Island as the favorite from maybe 15 or so to 10. Unfortunately, because those books were messing with me, a lot of my money was at 15 and the final spread ended up 13, meaning Rhode Island, which won 91-78, failed to cover the 15 points, meaning I have just had a disaster. Well, a semi-disaster. But a loss is a loss, right?

I was pretty upset because not only had I got down pretty good but my friends had got down even better. Of course, the damn players had a million excuses. But what was I going to do, take it to court? At least they agreed they weren't getting paid for this game, which was only fair. And they promised to make it up to us. It was here they began telling Perla we would have to have Cobb. They said they were trying like hell but they couldn't get the job done because Cobb was the key man on the team.

The more I thought about it, the madder I got. So I called Kuhn at his home in Boston. I still have his old number right here in my book. I started screaming at him, "If you're not gonna do what you're supposed to do, if you're not gonna live up to the deal you made, just forget about it. I'll walk away from it now. Just don't make me go blow another $25,000 or $50,000. Now I gotta bet twice as much to get even for the last game." I just spoke to him, laid the law down. Then I decided to get a little rambunctious on the phone. I reminded him that he couldn't play basketball with broken fingers. Or something to that effect. Sometimes words have a way of getting things done. All the time he was apologizing and saying it wasn't his fault.

Everybody was distressed, and I was getting pressure from my people, who were saying to me, "Hey, who do these kids think they are, cuties? We're just out to make a few dollars. What is this?" I could see their point, so I emphasized to Kuhn that he should take my message back to Sweeney. And I was thinking how all this looked real, real good in the beginning, and now it's looking like a disaster. Now I was looking to bet $40,000 or $50,000 and I was definitely not ahead of the game anymore. But the players kept reassuring me not to worry, that I was going to get even and make plenty of money, money, money. I'm a sucker like anybody else. I went for the story.

Bring on Holy Cross. Without a doubt, the players said, this is the time we all get our money. Maybe so, but not only do I need to get a lot of money down bad, but I've got serious trouble with the books because they know there is hanky-panky. Hell, I'm told that at this point even the NCAA had heard there was hanky-panky. But some of the books didn't want anything to do with BC. And those who did not only were moving the line around but they were wanting in on the deal themselves. BC started off at maybe a five-point favorite and got down to two or less, but I was trying to make a big score. Well, BC won by only two points, and I had a lot of losing money down on this game. It wasn't an absolute disaster but it was a cousin. The problem was Cobb. He just kept swishing them in, 30 or 35 points, I don't remember. Worse, Kuhn and Sweeney still thought they deserved their money because they tried. College kids and try. It makes me want to throw up. I think we finally settled on $1,000 each, which was too much.

And they were still saying, "We got to have Cobb." I realized that and so I passed the word through Tony, "At all costs, talk to him." Next thing I heard Cobb was all set, but it was going to take another $2,500 for his share. Of course, of course. I was upset, but what could I do? I didn't like dealing with a third party I didn't know and had never met. Plus, look how complicated it was getting. It's so difficult when you can't deal direct. I was hearing about Kuhn, Sweeney and Cobb through Perla. Or sometimes it even went from the players to Perla to Mazzei to me. It was crazy. I was behind the whole thing, but the information was getting to me third or fourth hand. It was awful. I was betting like mad on a scheme I set up, I was losing my ass, and my phone bill was running as high as $1,000 a week. Fun times.

But the word did come back that Cobb was enthusiastic and, don't worry Henry, nothing can screw up now. We're all home free. But all I knew for sure was I'm stuck for maybe $50,000 and there is no happiness in my circle of people.

The next game was an added starter, Connecticut in the finals of the Colonial Classic on Jan. 27. I was nervous but the books who weren't in it with me felt better, because I had blown the last two games. And I must admit that with Cobb on my team for the first time, my heart was back on beat. I got down good on this one, probably $35,000 with no problem. BC was a big favorite, five or six points, and they won by one. Beautiful. It was great to see—just a great moment in sport—and I was happy because I figured we were in the money again.

It helped that the next game was against Fordham, a New York team, because that would bring some extra New York money in. BC was favored by 15, and I probably got down for another $35,000. This was no problem for my boys, a snap. They proved themselves. Yes they did. This game is a good example of the beauty of point shaving. Cobb hit seven of 10 from the floor, four for four on free throws, had seven assists and only one turnover. Does that mean he didn't help shave? Not at all. Point shaving is sneaky and not nearly as messy as dumping. Look, kids have made thousands of bad passes by mistake for nothing, so what was so bad about making just one more bad pass and getting paid for it?

I'm told the Boston College athletic director said that if you watched a team coached by Tom Davis, "you'd feel it was impossible to fix a game." And Davis said even on looking back, he couldn't think of any time when a BC player gave less than full effort. Right. That's what point shaving is. Red Auerbach of the Celtics made a smart comment in a newspaper article about it: "There's no way you can tell if a referee or player is shaving points—absolutely no way."

My problem was that the books were getting smart-ass wise and they were fluctuating the line something awful. That's what happened with St. John's, which turned out to be a little better than 50% successful. It was a push, or a standoff, with some books, I lost with others. It gets complicated, but the problem is, say you bet $35,000, if you win, you get $35,000; if you lose, you have to pay around $37,500. It's so tough. Anyway, I negotiated a price with the kids, about half their regular fee. I guess they tried—again—what with Cobb hitting one of seven from the field, fouling out and committing eight turnovers. Afterward, I had a conversation with Perla about how maybe Cobb had overdone it. We laughed. Cobb probably thought he should do a lot for $2,500. I thought he should, too.

The main thing I wanted my guys to do was know the line and watch the scoreboard. Another thing about point shaving is that sometimes just the way the game is going, mistakes might not be necessary. So then the kids get their money for doing nothing, and that's fair.

Occasionally, I'd bet on BC to win with nothing on with the players. Because I was paying them not to score, I didn't want to confuse them by suddenly telling them to do their best. Anyway, I didn't bet heavily on these win games, maybe $10,000 or $15,000. I did it mainly to try to make the bookies think we were O.K. And, as I told you, I'm a little bit of a gambler.

I was looking forward to the Feb. 10 Holy Cross game because it was going to be on TV. It was close on the line, maybe pick-'em. but with the line fluctuating so much, I didn't do well. This was a full-fledged disaster. Doomsday. It still hurts to think about it. I was over at Jimmy Burke's place in Howard Beach, Queens. We get out the Michelob, some crackers, some cheese, and we're set. Jimmy's maybe got $50,000 or more bet, and I'm down for probably $35,000.

All three of my boys started this one, which meant 60% of the lineup was in the tank. Naturally, good things happened. Even the announcer said something about Cobb "forcing shots." Attaboy, Ernie! It's force time. At the start of the second half. Sweeney inbounded to Kuhn and Rick traveled. That's teamwork. Pass the cheese. Then the announcer said something about Cobb "not being under control today." The hell he wasn't. In one lovely stretch starting with about four minutes left in the game, Cobb made a silly foul, turned the ball over, missed two shots in a row and committed a foul. What can I say? But just when I was getting ready to drink my victory beer, things went sour. Suddenly there were a bunch of fouls and I don't know what all. But the only thing I know for sure is bang, I lost, Jimmy lost, everybody lost.

This was pretty upsetting to both of us. We just sat there and cursed and went crazy. But what were we supposed to do? Nothing. So we had another beer—this time with a Chivas chaser. All the books knew we were betting Holy Cross, so some of them kept adjusting the line, hoping to middle us; that is, fluctuate the line so that half my money was bet under the final spread and half over. That way nobody loses, but nobody wins either. Well, they did middle us. They sure did. And worse. I had even sent somebody out to Vegas to bet $25,000 with the legal bookies; plus I heard that this guy might have blown $10,000 of that money at the craps tables and I had to pay for his plane ticket. What am I thinking now? Well, what I'm looking to do next is to strangle some basketball players, to be honest. I was disgusted with basketball players.

But, because I'm a sucker, the players talked us into doing one more, the ECAC playoff against Connecticut. I did it simply because it was a good opportunity. See, I heard Kuhn was hurt and Cobb was hurt. The line was about pick-'em, and we knew BC was going to blow it big. I got down big, everybody did, and, of course, BC lost big, and now we were all straightened up and wearing happy faces.

But the fact is, it all could have gone a lot better on the season. Of course, I have to remind myself it could have gone a lot worse, too. Regardless, we finished with a good taste in our mouths about the whole experience.

And that was it. No fireworks. No nothing. It just ended, because Cobb and Kuhn were seniors and nobody seemed to want to do it anymore. The Pittburgh guys were getting scared because there was an awful lot of nasty talk, plus it was hard for them to get down for even $10,000. Even though everybody made money, it was a lot of hassle. And, listen, it wasn't as simple as I'm making it out to be.

I wasn't interested in any big-deal college-basketball-fixing thing involving a lot of schools like in the '50s. BC just happened to come along, although I admit that if another point-shaving deal or something had crossed my path, you know me, I definitely would have gotten involved.

BC has said that neither the coach nor any other employees were involved. They're telling the truth. And I should add there were no other players either. But that's only because I didn't need anybody else.

I suppose some narrow-minded people will say I turned on the players, claiming they kept their word but I didn't keep mine. Well, let me tell you there are no good guys in this story. I was being questioned by government people about Lufthansa, and in the chronology of things they asked where I was in the days after that deal and what I was doing. I told them. Blame the feds. But I can assure you that BC was not the main topic of conversation.

Am I telling the truth? I am, 100%, as best as I can remember. And it will come out eventually. There's a lot of documentary evidence. And I believe the kids will tell the truth before this is over. Sweeney will, and the other two are fools if they don't come around. They're all smart enough, especially Sweeney, to see the handwriting on the wall. Funny thing. I sit around now and I think, "Ain't that Sweeney something?" He looks like a litle choirboy, a legitimate kid. So why did he do it? The money, man, the money. That's why we all did it.