Overcoming Gambling Demons Daily

Schlichter continues to overcome gambling demons daily


MANSFIELD -- It was just like any football Saturday in Ohio Stadium from 1978 thru 1981, when Art Schlichter had the rapt attention of his audience.

He had just finished speaking to a group of high school athletes and their parents, his riveting 30-minute address equal parts gut-wrenching and inspirational, when he reached down from the podium and squeezed my shoulder.

"This guy right here," he said to the banquet crowd, "threatened me that if I didn't do a good job tonight, he was going to call my parole officer."

At least Schlichter still has his sense of humor.

This fallen hero, whose downturn in life would mock the title of his 1981 biography, "Straight Arrow," has lost just about everything else because of a well-chronicled addiction to gambling.

It ruined his marriage, separated him from his two daughters for most of their lives, tainted his legacy at Ohio State, turned the once-famous No. 10 into a more infamous number in the U.S. penal system, destroyed relationships inside and outside of his family and cost him his career in the NFL.

Not to mention at least $1 million he is believed to have squandered while swindling, stealing and conning, all to feed his addiction.

"I think about gambling every day, but the one thing I can't do to be free is gamble," Schlichter said, speaking to a gathering last week in Mansfield. "I want to be free. I want to be with my children. I lost my family and nothing can replace that. To build that back is very hard."

On the same Wednesday that Ohio State was reeling in the nation's No. 1 high school quarterback, Terrelle Pryor, the greatest quarterback catch in OSU history was in Mansfield baring his soul to a bunch of strangers. It's become routine, cathartic.

Schlichter, 47, travels the country, speaking on behalf of Gambling Prevention Awareness, the nonprofit organization he founded to educate others about the perils of compulsive gambling.

In addition to talking about all the wrong steps he has taken, Schlichter enjoys talking about all the right steps his former school has taken under Jim Tressel -- Pryor's signing being the latest.

Pryor becomes the most ballyhooed quarterback Ohio State has inked since Schlichter was No. 1 in the nation at that position 30 years ago. Schlichter would start 48 straight games for the Buckeyes, rewrite the record books, finish in the top six of Heisman Trophy balloting three times, earn All-American honors, lead the Buckeyes to within one point of a national championship and become the fourth overall pick in the NFL draft -- all before his addiction overwhelmed him.

"The first thing I would tell (Pryor) is don't believe anything anyone is telling you," Schlichter said. "When you get all the hype when you're young, and it happened to me, then you start believing it. You start believing you're probably better than everyone else and you stop working.

"When you lose that edge as a college player or pro player, you can't become the player you need to become. So I'd keep my head down, wouldn't read the papers, work hard and believe what the coaches tell you and no one else.

"I'd assume Ohio State is going to take it slow with him. I'd hope they do. He's probably wanting to be on the fast track and thinks he might start this year. I would encourage him to take it slow."

Schlichter thought he was on the fast track at Ohio State, unaware that his road was leading to prison, not professional plaudits.

GAMBLING EASED INSECURITIES
A gambling habit that started at OSU with trips to the local horse track -- supposedly he never bet on Buckeye games -- spiraled out of control. A first-round pick of the Baltimore Colts in 1982, Schlichter was suspended by the NFL for gambling one year later and was out of the league entirely by 1985.

He played for a few years in the Arena Football League, winning MVP honors in leading the Detroit Drive to the 1990 title. He also hosted a radio sports talk show in Cincinnati during the early part of that decade. But gambling consumed him.

To support his habit, he stole and conned money from friends and strangers and frequently passed bad checks. In an interview for ESPN's "Outside the Lines," he estimated that he'd stolen $1.5 million during the years, if not more.

Schlichter's wife, Mitzi, left him in 1994 after FBI agents raided their home in Las Vegas in search of money he'd stolen. Between 1994 and 2006, he spent the equivalent of 10 years in 44 prisons and jails across the Midwest.

Schlichter traces the start of his problem back to his glory days at Ohio State.

"When I was 18 years old, I had a lot of insecurities," he said.
"Probably the only person who didn't want to be Art Schlichter was Art Schlichter because I was a little self-conscious. People probably didn't know that, but I was worried about what people thought at all times and I think it affected me as I went on.

"From 1978 to 2004, I gambled nearly every day. I tried to be an athlete, but in the end gambling was my first love. I thought it was the thing that made me feel the best, when in turn it was the thing that made me feel the worst.

"I lost a wife and two daughters who are 18 and 13 now. In 2002, my father (Max), who was a compulsive gambler, committed suicide because of his gambling addiction. A lot of people don't know that."

Schlichter said his life hit rock bottom when he was caught gambling in prison and spent six months in solitary confinement. He was let out of his cell, handcuffed, for five minutes every other day to shower. He was fed through a hole in the door of his cell.

"At that point, I just wanted to die," Schlichter said. "I thought this isn't a way to live, and I'm not going to live like this anymore. I got down on my knees and talked to the God of my understanding and asked him to help me get through the night.

"I knew better. I came from a good family ... good father, good mother, they cared about me and loved me; good wife, beautiful kids, but I couldn't stop. That night I stopped. Through the grace of God, I made it through that night and about 120 other ones."

THE ROAD BACK
Schlichter was released from prison a couple of months early and began repairing his life and relationships. He has moved back close to his hometown of Washington Court House, about 40 miles southwest of Columbus, to live with his mother, Mila, in a home close to what was once their family farm.

His ex-wife has remarried and lives in Indiana with their two daughters. Schlichter routinely drives there to see his kids.

"The one bad thing about my 18-year-old daughter is that she doesn't listen to a thing I tell her because I'm her dad," Schlichter said. "But I have a lot of stories I'd like to tell her and most of them are bad stories because I thought life was bad.

"I thought life was giving me a raw deal when, really, I was giving life a raw deal. Whatever you do, if you pride yourself on making good, honest, sincere decisions, I can almost promise you'll have a good life. And when life gets tough, hit your knees, have a little faith, and I believe the good Lord will carry us through."

For years, Schlichter was treated as an outcast by Ohio State. There have been no halftime ceremonies honoring his storied career. There is no photo remembering him in Ohio State's media guide or game-day programs. In 2006, when Schlichter attended a game with his mom, it was his first trip back to the Horseshoe in 13 years.

But that relationship, like others, is beginning to heal. The day before the 2006 Michigan game, at a benefit honoring former OSU coach Earle Bruce, Schlichter was invited to join other former players on the sidelines during the game.

It had to bring back memories of his first game in the 'Shoe, when he rode the crowd's roar on to the field, ending the mystery of who would start for the Buckeyes at quarterback. Senior incumbent Rod Gerald, more of an option playmaker, had led the Buckeyes to a share of the Big Ten title the year before.

But legendary coach Woody Hayes was turning the controls over to the freshman, who never lost a game at Miami Trace High School. Gerald moved to wide receiver.

"I'll never forget it," Schlichter said. "Woody prepared the scene by being closed-mouthed about it and had Rod and I standing together during the kickoff and then pushed us out on the field at the same time.

"Rod was a class act and very supportive of me, but I'm sure there was some animosity on the team because Rod was a senior quarterback. It would be much like senior Todd Boeckman being put on second team now (behind Pryor). The difference is Todd doesn't have another position to go to. Rod was a great athlete and looked to be a wide receiver in the pros. It would have been a great transition for him if he hadn't gotten hurt."

Schlichter would toss five interceptions in his debut, a 19-0 loss to Penn State. Schlichter's last pass that season also was an interception, sealing Clemson's 17-15 victory in the Gator Bowl.

"My last game for Woody was his last game," Schlichter said wryly, recalling the ill-fated final seconds of that game. "I threw the interception and he got fired for slugging the guy (middle guard Charlie Bauman) I threw it to.

"I figured Woody had my back at that point."

REMEMBERING WOODY
Schlichter speaks endearingly about Hayes.

"We beat Michigan my senior year and I scored the winning touchdown, which was something I dreamed about my whole life," Schlichter said. "I was in the shower and Woody came in and gave me a hug.

"After my first game (the loss to Penn State), he called me into his office and I thought he was going to kill me. Instead, he gave me a hug and said, 'I believe in you. You're going to be the greatest quarterback to ever play at Ohio State.'

"After that Michigan game my senior year, when he hugged me he said, 'I told you you'd be the greatest to ever play here.' That's something I'll always remember about Woody. He was a great man."

Perhaps the only gamble that really paid off in Schlichter's life was deciding to play college football for a coach with a deep aversion to the forward pass.

The deal-maker was Hayes inviting himself to Thanksgiving dinner with the Schlichters in 1977.

"I probably had 30 or 40 relatives at my grandpa's house, including my two grandpas," Schlichter said. "Woody walked in the door with his wife, Anne. He shook my hand and went right by me to sit between my two grandpas. He did not say one word to me the rest of the day. At the end of the day, Woody shook my hand goodbye, (and) my grandpas said, 'You're going to Ohio State,' and that was it."

That was only part of the story.

"Actually," Schlichter said, "I went there because Woody promised to throw more."

For Schlichter, who still holds school marks for passing yards in a game (458) and career (7,547), it turned out to be one of the few decisions he's made in the past 30 years he hasn't come to regret.

"The gambling temptation will always be there," he said. "I think about it every day. When something bad happens to me, the first thing I want to do is (gamble) because it numbs my pain, just like an addict would want to drink or do drugs. So I have to check myself on a daily basis."