Pete Pihos Fraud Alert
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Read this on an autograph web site and thought I should post it here
Signings Hotline Pihos Thread
And this is the Sports Illustrated column by Rick Reilly in next weeks issue:
You know who you are.
You know what you did.
You ripped off a down-on-his-luck, Alzheimer's-spun Hall of Fame football player.
You went to Philadelphia Eagles great Pete Pihos's house, made nice with the ex-wife he lives with and took nearly every piece of football memorabilia he had, leaving Pete and Donna with $30,000 in bogus checks and a stack of bills they still can't pay.
You had to know -- once you saw that emptiness in Pete's 80-year-old eyes -- that the only reason they were selling his stuff was to pay for his care. Maybe you didn't know that Donna is also staring into the teeth of a $6,000 dental bill for Pete and that prescriptions run $625 a month, all on a high school librarian's salary. But you knew you were digging them a nice, deep hole.
You said you were a New York pediatrician, "Dr. James Hart," and you were starting a "museum." A month ago you went to their home in Winston-Salem, N.C., and took Pete's last two jerseys -- ones he wore in Pro Bowls during the 1950s. You took his original leather pads. You took a near-priceless football that was signed by 25 Hall of Famers, including Night Train Lane and Bulldog Turner. Yeah, you took all that, and you took their hope too.
Hey, it's what you do. You look for Hall of Famers who are either punch-drunk or suffering from dementia or Alzheimer's. You contacted Ernie Stautner, the Pittsburgh Steelers great who has Alzheimer's, about paying him to sign autographs and to buy memorabilia. Calling yourself "Dr. James Hart," you spoke to his wife, Jill, who agreed to a meeting in Dallas but not at their home and only if you paid in cash. You never came.
You also set up a meeting with Baltimore Colts great John Mackey, who cannot remember what he had for breakfast today. This time you said you were "Dr. James Hart," psychologist. But you never showed, leaving Mackey and his wife, Sylvia, waiting at a Baltimore hotel for three hours.
Which NFL legend will you try to steal from next? Jim Ringo, the Green Bay Packers center? Steve Van Buren, the Eagles' coal train of a halfback? John Henry Johnson, the Steelers' workhorse? They've all got Alzheimer's. Otto Graham had it, too, and Tom Fears died from it. The AMA hasn't quite proved the link between all those years of taking forearms to the head and Alzheimer's, but you know. And you're using it to line your pockets.
For Pihos, it started creeping up a few years ago. "What are we going to do tonight?" he'd ask Donna 10 to 20 times a day. She'd find frozen TV dinners in his closet. Over and over he'd pull two Advils out of his pocket and say, "What are these for?"
So now the bull of a man who served two years under Gen. George Patton, who was all-NFL at wideout and defensive end, spends his days playing solitaire, looking out the window and waiting for Donna to come home. He can't read or write much anymore, soon won't be able to drive and may start wandering away.
It's not like Donna wanted to sell the stuff. She ached at having to do it. After all, Pete himself can't remember specifics about his great career, doesn't remember how many NFL titles he won (two), can't recall the coaches he played under. For Donna those jerseys, those pads, that ball were the last means by which she could hang on to the old Pete -- the man Pete himself has forgotten.
Donna still shakes with anger over what you did. She doesn't sleep some nights. And she has no idea what she'll do about taking care of Pete.
Anyway, you better fence the stuff soon. Hall of Famer Ron Mix, an attorney who also runs the Hall of Fame Players Association, says the organization is offering a $5,000 reward (619-688-9630) for information leading to your "arrest, conviction and, if possible, hanging."
The cash might soon go to a collector in Richmond, Jeff Whitmore, who told me this all smelled like the work of a memorabilia dealer from upstate New York with a reputation for skipping out on payments. "He's a real sick puppy," says Whitmore.
Then there's this: When you blew off Mackey at that Baltimore hotel that day, you left an address when you made your "Dr. Hart" reservation. The clerk gave that address to Sylvia Mackey. SI researchers linked it to a man with a different name -- the same name provided by Whitmore.
Sylvia remembers working with that man at a memorabilia show in November 2002. She describes him almost word-for-word the way Donna described you: good-looking, 25-ish, "too young to be a doctor," she says. And Sylvia remembers the man's wife, who also shows up as living at that same address.
So either the man and "Dr. Hart" are the same person, or it's a very crowded house in upstate New York. I called the numbers that the man and the so-called doctor had given to the players' wives, and they were either disconnected or the calls went unreturned.
Doesn't matter. Detectives should collar you posthaste.
And how do you think juries will take to your ripping off a football legend who can't even remember his glory days?
Maybe it's a good thing these men think like toddlers now. This way, the wickedness of what you've done can never sink in.
See you at the hanging.
Issue date: March 8, 2004
Signings Hotline Pihos Thread
And this is the Sports Illustrated column by Rick Reilly in next weeks issue:
You know who you are.
You know what you did.
You ripped off a down-on-his-luck, Alzheimer's-spun Hall of Fame football player.
You went to Philadelphia Eagles great Pete Pihos's house, made nice with the ex-wife he lives with and took nearly every piece of football memorabilia he had, leaving Pete and Donna with $30,000 in bogus checks and a stack of bills they still can't pay.
You had to know -- once you saw that emptiness in Pete's 80-year-old eyes -- that the only reason they were selling his stuff was to pay for his care. Maybe you didn't know that Donna is also staring into the teeth of a $6,000 dental bill for Pete and that prescriptions run $625 a month, all on a high school librarian's salary. But you knew you were digging them a nice, deep hole.
You said you were a New York pediatrician, "Dr. James Hart," and you were starting a "museum." A month ago you went to their home in Winston-Salem, N.C., and took Pete's last two jerseys -- ones he wore in Pro Bowls during the 1950s. You took his original leather pads. You took a near-priceless football that was signed by 25 Hall of Famers, including Night Train Lane and Bulldog Turner. Yeah, you took all that, and you took their hope too.
Hey, it's what you do. You look for Hall of Famers who are either punch-drunk or suffering from dementia or Alzheimer's. You contacted Ernie Stautner, the Pittsburgh Steelers great who has Alzheimer's, about paying him to sign autographs and to buy memorabilia. Calling yourself "Dr. James Hart," you spoke to his wife, Jill, who agreed to a meeting in Dallas but not at their home and only if you paid in cash. You never came.
You also set up a meeting with Baltimore Colts great John Mackey, who cannot remember what he had for breakfast today. This time you said you were "Dr. James Hart," psychologist. But you never showed, leaving Mackey and his wife, Sylvia, waiting at a Baltimore hotel for three hours.
Which NFL legend will you try to steal from next? Jim Ringo, the Green Bay Packers center? Steve Van Buren, the Eagles' coal train of a halfback? John Henry Johnson, the Steelers' workhorse? They've all got Alzheimer's. Otto Graham had it, too, and Tom Fears died from it. The AMA hasn't quite proved the link between all those years of taking forearms to the head and Alzheimer's, but you know. And you're using it to line your pockets.
For Pihos, it started creeping up a few years ago. "What are we going to do tonight?" he'd ask Donna 10 to 20 times a day. She'd find frozen TV dinners in his closet. Over and over he'd pull two Advils out of his pocket and say, "What are these for?"
So now the bull of a man who served two years under Gen. George Patton, who was all-NFL at wideout and defensive end, spends his days playing solitaire, looking out the window and waiting for Donna to come home. He can't read or write much anymore, soon won't be able to drive and may start wandering away.
It's not like Donna wanted to sell the stuff. She ached at having to do it. After all, Pete himself can't remember specifics about his great career, doesn't remember how many NFL titles he won (two), can't recall the coaches he played under. For Donna those jerseys, those pads, that ball were the last means by which she could hang on to the old Pete -- the man Pete himself has forgotten.
Donna still shakes with anger over what you did. She doesn't sleep some nights. And she has no idea what she'll do about taking care of Pete.
Anyway, you better fence the stuff soon. Hall of Famer Ron Mix, an attorney who also runs the Hall of Fame Players Association, says the organization is offering a $5,000 reward (619-688-9630) for information leading to your "arrest, conviction and, if possible, hanging."
The cash might soon go to a collector in Richmond, Jeff Whitmore, who told me this all smelled like the work of a memorabilia dealer from upstate New York with a reputation for skipping out on payments. "He's a real sick puppy," says Whitmore.
Then there's this: When you blew off Mackey at that Baltimore hotel that day, you left an address when you made your "Dr. Hart" reservation. The clerk gave that address to Sylvia Mackey. SI researchers linked it to a man with a different name -- the same name provided by Whitmore.
Sylvia remembers working with that man at a memorabilia show in November 2002. She describes him almost word-for-word the way Donna described you: good-looking, 25-ish, "too young to be a doctor," she says. And Sylvia remembers the man's wife, who also shows up as living at that same address.
So either the man and "Dr. Hart" are the same person, or it's a very crowded house in upstate New York. I called the numbers that the man and the so-called doctor had given to the players' wives, and they were either disconnected or the calls went unreturned.
Doesn't matter. Detectives should collar you posthaste.
And how do you think juries will take to your ripping off a football legend who can't even remember his glory days?
Maybe it's a good thing these men think like toddlers now. This way, the wickedness of what you've done can never sink in.
See you at the hanging.
Issue date: March 8, 2004
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Comments
tall tree, short rope
aconte
Please post any follow up information in regards to this.
I look forward to the follow up story describing how they nailed the crook.
First of all thanx for the thread - that is awful - those who follow auctions especially in SCD can keep an eye out for a reference of Pete Pihos stuff and email the link to the auction company - it may be futile but I wouldn't dream of buying anything that this guy would profit from. I would guess that any investigative journalist would probably be on this while we speak.
Mike
Help Pete Pihos Thread
"Donna Pihos has ID'ed our suspect from a picture
of him taken in upstate NY with John Mackey (Nov.'02)-it's the same person who came to visit her as "Dr. Hart", but at the NY show he was using his real name! "
Photos That Were Used On Baseball Cards