Former NBA player and coach Damon Jones pleaded not guilty on two charges stemming from his alleged involvement in an illegal gambling scandal, per CBS News. Jones was then released on a $200,000 bond, and he is prohibited from gambling or making contact with organized crime as part of the bond terms.

Jones is facing charges in two cases. One of them involves an allegation that he provided insider information to a co-conspirator, who then used that data to bet on NBA games. The second case involves Jones allegedly luring other athletes into rigged poker games organized by the mafia with Jones accused of taking a cut of the money as compensation for his role.

In the first case, Jones allegedly sent a text to a co-conspirator on Feb. 9, 2023, in which he says, “Get a big bet on Milwaukee before the information is out! [Player 3] is out tonight.” As it happened, LeBron James missed the Los Angeles Lakers’ game against the Bucks that night.

The other indictment accuses Jones, along with Basketball Hall of Famer Chauncey Billups, of serving as a “face card” for rigged poker games set up by the mafia. Former players like Jones and Billups would lure in players, and the venue would feature X-ray tables, rigged shuffling machines, and glasses designed to see marked cards.

Miami Heat player Terry Rozier was also caught up in this scandal, and he is accused of passing along insider information to help co-conspirators bet on NBA games. At this time, neither Billups nor Rozier have entered a plea. They are set to appear in court on Nov. 24.

Billups, the coach of the Portland Trail Blazers, has been suspended while the legal process plays out. Tiago Splitter is serving as the interim in his place.

Rozier has also been suspended without pay, but the NBPA is challenging it. In a statement to ESPN, the NBPA said a suspension without pay is “counter to the presumption of innocence and inconsistent with the terms of our collective bargaining agreement.”

One day before Jones entered his not guilty pleas, NBA officials met with congressional staffers to discuss the gambling scandals and the league’s ties with sportsbooks, per the Associated Press.

The polished wooden doors of the Brooklyn federal courthouse creaked open on Monday morning as Damon Jones, a former NBA player turned coach, stepped through them. Cameras flashed. Reporters shouted questions. And in that instant, the man once known for his infectious energy, sharp suits, and long-range jump shot looked suddenly small beneath the weight of it all. He was there to answer to charges that had sent shockwaves through the world of professional basketball — charges of criminal conspiracy and wire fraud tied to an alleged gambling scheme involving insider information, illegal betting, and organized crime. Standing before the judge, Damon Jones quietly entered his plea: not guilty.

It was a stunning fall from grace for a man who had spent more than a decade building his name across the league — first as a respected player, then as a coach and mentor. Known to fans as a charismatic role player with a knack for hitting clutch three-pointers, Jones had played for multiple teams including the Miami Heat, Milwaukee Bucks, and Cleveland Cavaliers. He was part of LeBron James’s early Cavaliers era, remembered as the confident shooter who could light up a game when the moment called for it. After retiring, he transitioned to coaching, most recently serving as an assistant and shooting consultant. To the public, he was the picture of stability — a former athlete who had managed to reinvent himself gracefully. That image shattered in an instant when federal agents appeared at his door.

The 54-page indictment unsealed last week paints a very different picture. Prosecutors allege that Jones participated in a criminal conspiracy stretching across several states and involving dozens of individuals, some with direct ties to organized crime families. The alleged scheme was twofold: illegal sports betting based on insider information and participation in high-stakes underground poker games that federal investigators say were rigged using high-tech cheating devices. Jones, according to the indictment, acted as both a conduit and an asset — someone who provided confidential details about player injuries, game status, and team strategies that were not yet public, giving bettors an illegal edge in placing wagers.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Michael Andrews described the operation as “a sophisticated network of corruption where sports data and personal access were weaponized for profit.” He told the court that Jones had leveraged his insider relationships within the NBA, passing along information in exchange for cash payments that were funneled through intermediaries and shell accounts. In one instance, prosecutors say, he texted a co-conspirator hours before tipoff about a star player’s ankle injury, leading to a six-figure payout when the game’s outcome shifted unexpectedly.

Jones’s defense attorney, Mark Sullivan, was quick to counter the allegations, calling them “sensationalized and overreaching.” Standing outside the courthouse after the arraignment, Sullivan told reporters, “Mr. Jones maintains his innocence. He has never fixed a game, shared insider information for money, or participated in any organized crime activities. He looks forward to clearing his name.” When asked whether Jones had ever placed sports bets himself, Sullivan declined to comment.

Inside the courtroom, Jones’s demeanor was subdued. Gone was the wide smile fans had come to recognize from his coaching days. Dressed in a gray suit, he kept his hands folded as the judge outlined the terms of his release: a $200,000 bond, electronic monitoring, surrender of his passport, and a strict prohibition from contacting anyone involved in gambling operations. His travel would be restricted to the state of New York and his home in Texas.

For the NBA, the scandal is nothing short of an existential crisis. Since the legalization of sports betting in the United States, the league has leaned heavily into partnerships with betting companies, even integrating gambling odds into live broadcasts. The case against Damon Jones threatens to unravel the very trust those partnerships depend on. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver released a carefully worded statement shortly after Jones’s plea: “The integrity of our game is paramount. While we cannot comment on an ongoing legal matter, we are cooperating fully with federal authorities to ensure transparency and accountability.” Behind closed doors, however, league executives were reportedly furious and shaken. One insider told ESPN, “If the allegations are true, this isn’t just one man’s mistake — it’s a crack in the foundation we’ve built our business on.”

The court documents describe a complex operation that investigators have spent more than two years untangling. It began, they say, with a series of unusual betting patterns on NBA games during the 2022–2023 season. Large sums were being wagered on highly specific outcomes — such as player injury substitutions or over/under totals that swung dramatically minutes before tipoff. The bets originated from multiple states but traced back to a single network of accounts operated by a gambling syndicate linked to organized crime figures in New York and New Jersey. Federal agents followed the money trail, which led to encrypted messages, offshore payment processors, and ultimately, to Damon Jones.

In one intercepted message included in the indictment, a member of the syndicate allegedly texted another: “DJ got us covered. Wait till the news drops.” Hours later, an injury announcement changed the betting line, resulting in a $300,000 profit. Another document referenced “payouts” tied to “holiday games,” which investigators believe referred to Christmas Day matchups — some of the NBA’s most-watched broadcasts of the year.

Compounding the controversy are allegations of Jones’s involvement in underground poker games hosted in luxury residences and private clubs across Las Vegas, Miami, and Los Angeles. Federal prosecutors claim these games were not only illegal but also technologically rigged. Devices hidden in tables, cameras disguised as décor, and contact lenses embedded with micro-displays allegedly allowed members of the operation to see other players’ cards. These games, the indictment states, were attended by a mix of professional athletes, wealthy entrepreneurs, and entertainment figures. Jones’s role, prosecutors allege, was to attract high-profile guests and lend credibility to the events.

During questioning, federal agents asked Jones whether he was aware the games were fixed. He denied any knowledge, saying he had simply been invited to play and had “no reason to suspect anything illegal.” Investigators, however, say they have recordings suggesting otherwise. In one exchange, an unnamed co-conspirator allegedly told Jones, “You don’t need to worry — the table’s hot tonight. Just smile, take a seat, and let us do the rest.”

If convicted, Jones could face decades in prison. Wire fraud conspiracy carries a maximum sentence of 20 years, while money-laundering conspiracy adds another 10. Legal experts say the government’s case will hinge on proving intent — whether Jones knowingly participated in the schemes or was simply a pawn used by others. “The prosecution will have to show that he wasn’t just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” said defense attorney and former prosecutor Emily Vargas. “If they can tie financial transactions directly to insider tips, that’s devastating evidence.”

Meanwhile, the public reaction has been swift and polarized. Some fans expressed disbelief, arguing that Jones, who earned millions during his playing career and held stable coaching jobs afterward, had no motive to risk everything. Others see the scandal as part of a larger issue — the growing entanglement between professional sports and gambling. “When leagues start normalizing betting and promoting it on TV, this is the slippery slope,” one fan tweeted. “Eventually, someone crosses the line.”

The case has also reignited uncomfortable memories of past betting controversies — from the infamous 2007 scandal involving referee Tim Donaghy to more recent allegations of betting violations in other professional leagues. For the NBA, which has prided itself on strict codes of conduct, the possibility that a former coach could be tied to an organized gambling ring represents a public relations nightmare.

Jones’s former teammates and colleagues have largely remained silent, though one former player who asked not to be named told reporters, “Damon loved the spotlight. He liked being around action — poker, nightlife, all of it. But I never thought he’d be involved in something criminal.” Another acquaintance described him as “a guy who couldn’t say no,” suggesting that he may have been manipulated by more dangerous people.

The investigation has reportedly widened to include other individuals within Jones’s professional circle. Sources close to the case say federal agents are reviewing financial records, phone logs, and communications with at least two current NBA players and one former assistant coach. While no additional charges have been filed, authorities confirmed that “multiple persons of interest” are being questioned.

Behind the headlines, there’s also a human story unfolding — of a man whose dream career may now define him for all the wrong reasons. Born in Galveston, Texas, Damon Jones fought hard to make it into the NBA, going undrafted and bouncing between international leagues before finding his footing. He was never a superstar, but his determination and personality made him a fan favorite. That underdog story — the grind, the hustle, the charm — is part of what makes the allegations so tragic.

When reporters asked him outside the courthouse if he had anything to say to his fans, Jones paused for a long moment. “I’ll tell my story in court,” he said quietly. “I didn’t do what they’re saying I did.” Then he turned, stepping into a waiting car, his head bowed.

For now, the legal process grinds forward. A pretrial conference is scheduled for next month, with prosecutors indicating they may add new evidence from ongoing wiretap analysis. The NBA, meanwhile, continues its internal investigation, interviewing players and staff who may have had contact with Jones during the alleged period of misconduct. Privately, league sources admit the outcome could shape future policies on gambling and insider access for years to come.

As the sun set over Manhattan that evening, a once-beloved figure in the basketball world found himself at the crossroads of fame and infamy. Whether Damon Jones is remembered as a victim of circumstance or a willing conspirator will depend on what happens in the months ahead. But one thing is certain: the intersection of sports, money, and power has never felt more precarious.