Belle Is the Victim Now, and You Can Bet On It

This has become an ugly witch hunt, and it’s time for baseball to cease and desist. It is waging a vendetta against Albert Belle, pure and simple.

Never was this more clear than last week, when Belle, testifying during a deposition for a civil suit, admitted that he recently lost about $40,000 in football and college basketball bets.

You would have thought Belle had burned the American flag, hijacked an airline flight and kicked over an old lady in a wheelchair.

It became headline news on television and sports pages; it was the No. 1 topic of discussion in Chicago and Cleveland.

Major League Baseball officials even leaked out news they were investigating the matter, complete with innuendo that Belle also might have bet on baseball.

Belle insists he did not bet on baseball. I believe him. What moron player would bet on baseball, considering the potential consequences if discovered and the improbability of picking a winner, based on the inconsistent odds from one night to the next?

OK, so Belle has gambled. What is the big deal? You want to see gambling? Walk into any clubhouse on a given day. You’ll see huge pools on the NCAA Tournament, the Kentucky Derby, the Indy 500. You’ll see a pool on every major golf tournament. You’ll see exorbitant fantasy football drafts.

Oh, and don’t be so naive as to believe it’s confined to the clubhouse.

St. Louis has become many National League players’ favorite stop. Why? Because of the gambling boats. Go on board a St. Louis riverfront boat any night and see your favorite players. It has become a huge hangout.

I know of a Cincinnati Reds player who won $25,000 one night last season at St. Louis. This same player will gamble more in one month than Belle probably will in a lifetime. But you don’t hear his name in any baseball investigation.

Nor are baseball’s powers after Lenny Dykstra, who doesn’t bother to hide his gambling habit. Or the 30% of players who reportedly use steroids.

No sir, baseball wants Albert Belle.

“When you talk about locker-room betting, we bet on everything,” Belle says. “It’s no different than anyone else’s office pool. Money changes hands in the locker room. It’s whatever you want.

“I treasure my career a lot. I don’t understand why people are stirring things up.”

Granted, Belle has not been your model citizen. He has overreacted to kids who egged his house on Halloween. He has screamed at reporters. He has intimidated fans.

But the man is the game’s highest-paid player for a reason. He may not be the best all-around player -- that honor still belongs to Barry Bonds -- but he is the most feared hitter. Jerry Reinsdorf isn’t paying this guy $55 million to tell jokes and entertain the media. Reinsdorf bought his services to help the Chicago White Sox win a World Series.

“Albert, like many other players, does bet on games outside of his own sport,” says Jose Feliciano, Belle’s attorney. “Believe me, this is no big deal.”

Sure, it’s juicy gossip when an athlete loses a lot of money gambling. But it’s cruel and unfair to speculate that because Belle bet on other sports, he also must have bet on baseball.

Come on, it’s time to let Belle play ball. It’s time to give him a chance to change his image, as he promises he will do. It’s time to recognize him for his talents instead of looking for ways to tear the man down.

We owe Albert Belle at least that much.