Athletes can be highly successful in life. This can create a sense of jealously among other people. People can be so jealous that they will entertain the idea of becoming them. They will change their appearances and they will succeed. For a time, it will work. However, at a certain point, everything will crumble down.
A Tennessee man with the same name as New York Yankees legend, Babe Ruth, is facing charges alleging that he used the names of hundreds of dead or retired pro baseball players to make phony claims for payouts in class action settlements.
George Herman Ruth is charged with 91 counts in the indictment handed down in US District Court in Greeneville, Tennessee, on 12 August, the US attorney’s office announced late last week. The 69-year-old from Morristown is charged with mail fraud, aggravated identity theft, fraudulent use of Social Security numbers, money laundering, making false statements to his probation officer and possessing firearms after having previously been convicted of felonies.
The indictment says Ruth obtained or attempted to obtain more than $550 000 through the scheme. He sought payouts in lawsuit settlements ranging from contact lens pricing allegations to claims of racial discrimination against a staffing agency, the indictment adds.
Ruth opened more than a dozen P.O. boxes in several Tennessee cities for himself and for sham companies, then submitted hundreds of fraudulent claim forms to class action administrators across the country; according to the indictment. He used the old baseball players’ names or variations of his own name and the Social Security numbers of unwitting victims, prosecutors said.
The indictment doesn’t list the names of the players Ruth claimed to be but it does describe some of them. For instance, some played for defunct teams such as the Philadelphia Athletics, the St. Louis Browns and the Kansas City Packers.
A public defender representing Ruth declined to comment on the charges.
Ruth had previously pleaded guilty in an Indiana federal court to a scheme to commit Social Security fraud. In 2020, he was sentenced to prison before going on probation from October 2023 until July 2025, court records show.
Stephan Pittman looks nothing like Vince Young. The former is a balding, 33-year-old registered sex offender living in Fort Washington; who’s been described in the press as, "a little out of shape" and "not that athletic." The latter is a American football legend. That disparity didn’t stop Pittman from allegedly posing as Young in order to, among other things, pocket phony charitable donations and score free drinks at nightclubs.
Pittman, who was arrested in the past, followed a familiar playbook. Scam artists have been impersonating professional athletes for ages and their tales are marked by two repeating themes. First, the impostors are almost always bumbling and shoddy. Second, the victims are usually willing to suspend disbelief to an outrageous extreme.
In 2001, NFL receiver, Jacquez Green, whose identity was pilfered by a Florida grifter, set forth a simple one-step plan for foiling sports scammers. "Ask yourself," the wealthy athlete implored. "Why would I need to be asking for money?" Yet, when a supposed pro athlete is in our midst, we seemingly lose all ability to distinguish between a wealthy football player and a random fat guy.
In the distant past, when Notre Dame had a good football team and fans packed auditoriums to witness one outrageous basketball trick shot after another, the athlete impostor was most often used to obtain free hotel stays.
Police arrested Charles A. Hart in the summer of 1963 after he posed as 1920s-era Fighting Irish quarterback, Frank Carideo. Hart was charged with defrauding an innkeeper and headline writers of the era rejoiced—"Impersonator Fumbles Ball," "Third Down, Nowhere to Go But Jail," etc..
Thirteen years later, police in Virginia arrested Bobby Ray Ford for impersonating a Harlem Globetrotter. While traveling through multiple states over the course of four years, Ford charged $50 000 (aka, a zillion dollars in 1976) to the Globetrotters' account. A spokesman for the team, overrun with phone calls from “irate innkeepers,” said that the scam was, "a testimony to the popularity of the Globetrotters."
Hotel desk clerks of yore could be forgiven for not seeing through such flimflam. There was no SportsCenter, no NFL Network and no Google. If someone ambled up to the front desk claiming to be James "Twiggy" Sanders or Mickey Klutts, how could you refute them? In the era of the Web and ubiquitous sports television, such identifications should be easier to make. Nevertheless, today’s con artists have little trouble convincing marks that they’re pro athletes.
Six years before the pudgy Pittman ran his scam, police arrested Brian Jackson for impersonating Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger. Jackson, who managed to drum up dates and steal money despite looking nothing like Roethlisberger; wasn’t particularly invested in his Big Ben identity. He also scammed women by saying he was Roethlisberger’s back up, Brian St. Pierre, as well as Steelers tight end, Jerame Tuman.
At least Jackson is the same race as the guys he impersonated. In 1980, Texas con man, Rickey Lee Oldham, posed as 49ers tight end, Rick Odom, in order to steal $170. Oldham is white. Odom is black. Oldham also told his fraud victims that he, as Odom, had played for the Houston Oilers; Odom never played for Houston. According to news reports, he resorted to the oldest line in the book, promising his victims he could double their money in a, "crayfish production venture."
Twenty years after Oldham’s scam, "a slender black man in his mid-30s" posed as former Heisman Trophy winner, Danny Wuerffel, to secure a loan from Home Depot. In 2007, a Caucasian rip-off artist drove off with a $35 000 motorcycle from a Kansas dealership after claiming to be black NFL player, Dexter Coakley.
A story in the Wichita Eagle explains that the fake Coakley traveled with a partner who stole a different bike while pretending to be former Washington Redskins offensive lineman, Gary Sayre. A description of the man posing as Sayre: "about 5-feet-5 inches tall, 180 pounds with blonde hair, a goatee and a rose tattoo on his left hand."
Pretending to be an athlete with a different skin colour is nothing. Richard E. Nelson posed as a ball player who was no longer alive. Nelson, who impersonated former MLB player, Rocky Nelson, for more than 25 years; had his neighbours convinced they had a former major leaguer in their midst. Nelson conducted media interviews about his non-existent career and signed baseballs at the local grocery store. After he told a friend that his son stole his World Series ring, the man purchased Nelson a $1 500 replica.
The lies began to unravel, however, when a baseball aficionado in Bradenton noted that Rocky Nelson was bald, while the man claiming to be Nelson had a full head of white hair. It all came crashing down in 2007, when word got out that Rocky Nelson, the baseball player, had died in 2006.
As with every other type of scam, the Internet has made it easier for faux athletes to pull one over on the easily duped. In 2000, Herbert John Derungs pretended to be both Derek Jeter and Nomar Garciaparra in order to trick a baseball bat manufacturer. Derungs used fraudulent emails and an array of different screen names to acquire more than $3 000 worth of lumber before getting caught. "I am interested in your product, due to the fact that Jose Canseco let me use his last year," wrote Derungs from the address derekjeter222@hotmail.com. He signed the email, "Thanks Derek" and the company sent him the bats.
Derungs’ work, like that of Brian Jackson, shows that impostors need not stick to a single subject. In 2003, a Louisiana man named Elander Mark Lachney posed as hockey stars, Keith Tkachuk, Brian Leetch and Jeremy Roenick and briefly succeeded in securing loans and credit cards in their names.
For Sandro Duval, impersonating three different people was child’s play—he accomplished that feat in one night. Duval, allegedly, gained entrance to a Miami club while pretending to be Detroit Lions cornerback, Chris Houston, then told patrons inside that he was Lil Wayne’s manager. When the bill came, he claimed to be Carolina Panthers player, Chris Gamble.
Why stop at two or three alter egos? Israel "Izzy" Lang played six NFL seasons in the late-1960s before retiring to pursue a career in defrauding other players. In 1988, he was arrested for pretending to be former New York Giants running back, Joe Morris. In the process of racking up 24 post-NFL arrests, Lang has also allegedly posed as Lawrence Taylor, Doug Williams and Leonard Marshall.
Those who impersonate athletes also don’t heed the maxim that it’s unwise for a scammer to call unnecessary attention to himself. Take Steve Karsay’s impostor, Jonathan Henry—now this guy was one rude SOB. Henry, who allegedly assumed Karsay’s identity to score free meals at posh Manhattan eateries over the course of two years, also made it a point to get wasted at charity events and hit on unsuspecting women. Cops nabbed Henry in 2007 but not before he got tanked at a comedy club, "where he interrupted the show by hopping over the bar, [made] out with a randomly chosen woman, and [skipped] out on his $100 tab."
Joba Chamberlain impersonator Ryan Ward wasn’t terribly interested in free meals or monetary gain but he was still a huge jerk. Ward claims to have slept with nearly 100 women while pretending to be the rotund reliever. "I hooked up with over 62 at least," he told the New York Post. Police arrested Ward in 2008. Lesson learned? Not so much. "I probably wouldn’t do it again," said Ward, who, after getting busted, noted that he wanted to become a celebrity impersonator. He then did an interview with Howard Stern and began going by the name, "Joba the Nut" and was set up to meet the real Joba Chamberlain at a Yankees game. That meeting never came to pass: Ward apparently got so drunk that he was booted from the stadium.
Joba the Nut realised from the start what Ronnie Craven found out around the same time: Pro athletes can pick up lots of women and run-of-the-mill tubby dudes with bad haircuts generally can’t. In 2008, Craven allegedly posed as former Seattle Supersonic, Jeff Turner, to seduce women in the slimiest of ways. "[It started as] an online dating thing," Craven, told the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. "Does that mean I can go out there and represent the Sonics? No. Does that mean that I did it to get some [sex]? Absolutely."
It's shocking just how easy these people get away with it. I suppose it's so easy because the vulnerable people they come into contact with are just star-struck. They are overcome with emotions.
The good news is that there is a chance of less frauds getting away with their crimes. In the age of the internet and various news outlets, people will be able to catch on very quickly on the impersonation. These acts will then become a thing of the past and will cease to exist.