The Strange Case of Pat Sheedy: Shedding Light on the Truth and Lies of a Fraudster, Gambler and Addict
7 mins read

The Strange Case of Pat Sheedy: Shedding Light on the Truth and Lies of a Fraudster, Gambler and Addict

Telling the Limerickman’s birth story after he was released from prison felt easy – until doubts began to arise

The system at Loughan House, the open prison in Cavan where people often see out the last 12 months of their sentences, meant that Pat could go home to Limerick for a few days, once or twice a month. It was kind of a half-in-half-out situation.

We met for lunch near the IFSC in Dublin. Pat was well dressed, confident, interesting. I didn’t know much about him then, only the little my colleague Nicola Tallant had told me: He had been involved in some fraud, he had a history of gambling addiction and he was working on a book about his life.

Nicola had been anonymously contacted a few months before this, given Pat’s number and told to call. He was locked up with Brian Kenny, another inmate Nicola had a long-standing crush on.

Pat was surprised to hear from her, but he told her what he knew and they started talking about what landed him in jail. The gist was that Pat’s problem gambling led him to commit crimes to fund his habit, but he turned his life around.

After talking to him, Nicola suggested that his story could make a good podcast series. Problem gambling is widespread in Ireland and not well understood as a disease and here was someone who could tell us what it was really like. Someone who had hit rock bottom and almost lived to tell the tale.

My goal was simple: to better understand what drives someone to do the things that Pat has done

I learned more about Pat when we met again in Limerick a few weeks later. We recorded a long interview, where Nicola asked him questions about his life, work and crime. Afterwards we got into my car and drove around town with Pat as our tour guide.

He showed us the house in Moyross where he grew up in the 1970s and where he and his mother still live. The atmosphere was light and everyone was enthusiastic about the possibilities of the project.

Over the next few months we spent a lot more time getting to know Pat. One day we even drove him back to Loughan House. It was strange and sad to see him walk through the gates, away from freedom.

Pat Sheedy. Photo: Mark Condren

I read drafts of the book he was working on in prison. I was with him the day he was offered a publishing deal and when it came out I read it several times. My goal was simple: to better understand what drives someone to do the things that Pat has done

After all, he was clearly a smart, competent guy. He went to a good school, had a stable family life, a good career. Pat’s crimes were not violent but they were certainly serious – and many. When we met him, he had over 100 convictions. This was a guy who couldn’t quit.

The atmosphere began to turn sour during the summer. It was small things at first, but it all came together.

Why would he invite two journalists into his life and expose himself to scrutiny in this way?

We would arrange to meet Pat with his friends or family and then the meeting would be canceled at the last minute. He promised us documents – his charge report, his data from gambling companies, bank statements – which were no longer available

We had trouble finding people who could talk to us about Pat’s life. Stories from the book didn’t always match up with what he personally told us or what his victims told us. We heard stories he hadn’t told at all.

We developed a sense that Pat was trying to shape the story in a way that painted him in a flattering light. We really weren’t sure what to believe.

We decided to do some searching. We weren’t exactly surprised when we caught him in a lie, but it made us let down a question we’d been asking for a while: Why did he do this? Why would he invite two journalists into his life and expose himself to scrutiny in this way?

In our most cynical moments, we talked about it being potentially his biggest scam of all: going public with his story, doing this podcast with us, spinning a yarn to reap the rewards of turning your life around.

Should we be part of it? What responsibility do we have here? These questions guided us through the next 12 months as we tried to figure out how to tell the story of a man—a con man, a gambler, an addict—whose problems are no doubt serious, but whose testimony is so hard to trust.

We interviewed addiction expert Dr. Colin O’Gara for the podcast and he said living with addiction is like juggling hundreds of balls, with the addict trying to keep everything in the air at once.

A friend of mine had a different thought: players want to lose. There is something that feels right in the universe, he said, when things fall apart.

And as I thought about this, I realized that it could explain something we’ve struggled with the entire time we’ve known Pat: What comes first, the gambling or the scams? What is the real addiction? My friend showed me that there is no difference. You can’t tell them apart. Both are manifestations of this deeper tendency toward self-destruction

Only time will tell if Pat’s recovery will last. We don’t know what path he is on now. I don’t even think he knows. Listeners must decide for themselves how much of his story to believe.

I don’t know the effect of doing this podcast on him. I don’t know what effect being more in the public eye will have on him. I think that his friends and family knowing more about him and his problems, that at least part of his story is more open, can help him.

It can cause people to spot problems faster than they would have before; it can get people to step in a little earlier and more efficiently than they would have before. I don’t know. I hope for his sake it does.

I hope something good comes out of all this. I sincerely wish him the best of luck. I think he will need every ounce of it he can get…

Episodes 1-3 of ‘The Gambler’, a new eight-part podcast series presented and produced by Ian Maleney and Nicola Tallant, are out now