A man in his late 30s says he’s finally ready to speak the words out loud: “I have a gambling problem.” He dials the number for the help line he has seen advertised during countless games.
A protective sister calls to find out who is on the other end of the line. Satisfied, she plans to pass the number to her brother, a prolific sports bettor. “It can take over people’s lives,” she tells the sympathetic operator.
A worried mother calls about her son, who has become addicted to sports betting apps. She passes the phone to him: “I’m just at a very, very low spot,” he says. “There’s something in my brain … I just don’t know where to turn.”
The weekend of the N.F.L.’s conference championship games in late January was a busy one for the Ohio Problem Gambling Helpline, when several calls like these were recorded. The help line, which offers referrals for counseling and treatment options, receives about 30 phone calls and text chats on an average day — more than 12,000 a year — although some of those are from bots, pranksters and people with questions about placing bets.
For those seeking help from the operators on the line, addiction to casino slots remains the top issue. But sports betting has taken the No. 2 spot, with the number of calls spiking during big sporting events. Super Bowl Sunday is one of the busiest days of the year.
The sports betting calls increasingly come from young men addicted to cellphone gambling apps, a troubling trend across the country.
Candy Cookson and Michelle Snowden have worked for eight years at the Ohio help line, which is advertised at the end of sports betting commercials and on highway billboards. Both say they have experienced a significant increase in the number of college-age men — and even boys in high school — on the other end of the line. Sports betting is illegal for those under 21.
Ms. Snowden, 58, a U.S. Army veteran who oversees the team answering calls, said one employee spoke last week to a nervous 16-year-old after he lost money gambling on his mother’s credit card. “Younger people are becoming addicted at an earlier age, and they’re doing it in silence,” she said. “Because you can do it, and you don’t have to say a word.”
About a dozen people work the day shift at the call center, wearing telephone headsets and sitting in a line of cubicles in a downtown Cleveland office. They’re employed by the United Way of Greater Cleveland and trained to answer problem gambling calls, as well as 211 calls and a veterans help line. A smaller number — usually two to four — are available overnight and in the early morning, often working from home.
Calls to the help line about sports betting, including daily fantasy sports, have jumped 314 percent since Ohio legalized the practice in 2023, becoming one of the 39 states to do so after a federal ban was struck down in 2018. Gov. Mike DeWine, a Republican, has said that he regrets signing the legislation that allowed sports gambling to be legal his state, a position he reaffirmed in a recent interview.
Mr. DeWine vowed that he would “absolutely” sign a law repealing sports gambling, if there were enough votes in the legislature to make that happen.
“It’s literally everywhere,” the governor said. “There’s a massive amount of money, and these sports companies know how to get people addicted. And that’s what they do.”
Legal sports betting is now a multibillion dollar industry in Ohio and many other states, yielding millions of dollars in tax revenue annually. Two percent of sports betting, casino, and lottery revenue is dedicated to funding gambling addiction services throughout the state. Last year, that amount came to $16 million, of which $115,000 went to the help line, with the bulk of the rest going to prevention and treatment.
Certainly many people participate in sports betting without becoming addicted, and leaders at major industry players have defended their practices. “I’m really comfortable with what we do,” Peter Jackson, the top executive at the parent company of FanDuel, said in an interview last year, adding that the service has deposit limits and other tools to manage bettors’ behavior.
The industry took a reputational hit when an N.B.A. player from Ohio and a head coach were arrested last year in an indictment involving allegations of insider sports betting and poker-game rigging. Numerous lawsuits have also accused sports betting companies of failing to protect users and causing significant financial and mental health issues.
Joe Maloney, president of the Sports Betting Alliance, an advocacy group for the top companies in the market, said if Ohio and other states hadn’t legalized sports betting, people who want to gamble on sports would spend their money in unregulated markets without age verification and other protections. “Ultimately, what our industry is committed to is responsible gaming,” he said.
One of the help line calls that sticks with Ms. Cookson, 51, was a young college student who dialed the number after gambling away his entire tuition. “He was just so distraught and so upset because he just didn’t know what his next steps should be,” she said. That conversation ended with a referral to a suicide hotline, she recalled. “It was so heartbreaking.”
The number of people telling Ohio operators that they’re considering taking their own life has more than doubled since 2022, corresponding with the legalization of sports betting.
Ohio law requires gambling operators to display the call center’s number on all advertisements and marketing materials, including on TV commercials. That number is 1-800-589-9966, but residents with an Ohio area code who call 1-800-GAMBLER or the National Problem Gambling Helpline are also routed to the call center.
Experts say the stigma around gambling addiction means that many people who need it will never call for help. Jim Lange, executive director of an Ohio State University center that studies addictions, says young men in particular are “not known for reaching out.”
Michelle Gilcher, 45, who works part-time shifts on top of two other jobs, said many calls come in just after big games have ended. Those callers often tell her something like: “I placed a bet, the team didn’t win, and now I’ve lost all this money, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
She added, “They just have something in their voice that just tugs at your soul.”
One recent Monday, as the hometown Cleveland Cavaliers were beating the Orlando Magic in an N.B.A. matchup, a young man was on the line. He had just missed another parlay — a package of bets that provides a bigger payout, but at a higher risk. “I just keep missing by one. I need help,” he said.
“I’m tired. I always say I’m going to stop gambling, but I just go back,” he continued. He had been betting $10 parlays a few times every day for the past year, he said — small amounts that added up.
“Well, what we do here is we provide resources,” the operator, Deborah Bailey, 37, assured him. She answers calls from 8 p.m. to midnight after her day job is over, while her 8-month-old is usually asleep. “We can provide support groups or counseling options to help people who are interested in stopping gambling altogether.”
The caller replied softly: “Yeah, I think I’m interested.”
She walked him through a few in-person and online support group options. He signed up for one while still on the phone. “Hopefully I’ll get this problem fixed,” he said. “I definitely might give you guys a call back.”
“We’re here, 24/7, so you can always call back. Do you feel like you have enough resources to get yourself started?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, you take care of yourself. OK? And good luck.”
If you are having thoughts of suicide, call or text 988 to reach the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline or go to SpeakingOfSuicide.com/resources for a list of additional resources.
Sonia A. Rao reports on disability issues as a member of the 2025-26 Times Fellowship class, a program for early-career journalists.
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