Ask Tate about his visits with Wacaser here

Former basketball talent scout Stephen Wacaser is taking all of his aliases (13) and his personalities (entrepreneur, public speaker, thief, robber, con man and gambling addict) back to prison again — maybe for the last time.

The 58-year-old Wacaser, once prominent on the East Central Illinois high school and college basketball scene, will be in his early to mid-70s before his release following a sentence last week to 16 years and seven months in federal prison by U.S. Judge Michael McCuskey.

Wacaser was sentenced after pleading guilty to two bank robberies — Oct. 19 in Macon County and Oct. 20 in Sangamon County — while he was on parole after serving almost eight years for previous robberies.

McCuskey, noting that Wacaser's latest robbery spree occurred "not even 60 days" after his Aug. 14, 2009, release for his previous offenses, concluded that Wacaser "was hell-bent on going back to jail for the rest of his life."

Glib and articulate, Wacaser parlayed a superficially ingratiating personality and skills as a scout of high school basketball players into a business as a recruiting analyst. From 1995 to 2001, he published a newsletter — "Assists, Turnovers and Loose Balls" — that he claimed was distributed to 300 college coaching programs and generated a six-figure income.

Since nothing Wacaser says that cannot be independently verified is credible, it's hard to know the true success of his enterprise. But there is no question that Wacaser penetrated the highest levels of college basketball programs, not only associating with University of Illinois basketball coaches Lou Henson, Lon Kruger and Bill Self but developing relationships with many others, including University of Indiana coach Tom Crean, University of Arizona coaches Lute Olson and John Rosborough and Arizona State coach Herb Sendek.

"I truly believe in this guy. I know his heart, and I honestly feel he can and will make a positive difference in society," Self wrote when Wacaser was facing his first sentencing hearing before McCuskey.

But neither Self nor the other coaches knew him at all — at least not to the extent of a prison psychologist who interviewed Wacaser and studied his personal history.

The psychologist, according to court records, characterized Wacaser as a "longtime chronic pathological liar" who would travel around the country "representing himself as a professional athlete or sports journalist and setting himself up as a con man where he obtains money by stealing credit cards, forgery or through other activities.

"He apparently has the ability to sell himself to people very readily, but he does this through misrepresentation," said the psychologist, who diagnosed Wacaser as a "sociopathic liar."

Locally, Wacaser vaguely acknowledged past run-ins with the law. But he used his professed rehabilitation to sell himself as worthy of a second chance. He spoke to sports groups, was frequently quoted in news stories about recruiting, appeared on WDWS radio sports shows to discuss basketball prospects and was a frequent guest in the News-Gazette newsroom, where he chatted up sportswriters about the college basketball scene.

Even now, Wacaser remains entranced by the sport, requesting assignment to a federal prison facility in Arizona so coaches like Olson, now retired as the Wildcats head coach, can visit him.

But that may not come to pass. In 2000-01, McCuskey received many letters from college coaches writing on Wacaser's behalf. This time he did not receive a single letter in support of Wacaser.

The oldest of four children, Wacaser grew up in Springfield, attended Augustana College for two years and got into trouble with the law early and often.

Starting at 21, when he was arrested in New York for stealing $1,000 from a church rectory, Wacaser built a virtually non-stop 30-plus year criminal record.

When he was 23, Wacaser served his first prison sentence in Nebraska for a check scam. His first federal arrest came a year later in Ohio for auto theft. From that point on, the pattern of Wacaser's life consisted of arrests, convictions and prison sentences in places ranging from Salt Lake City to his hometown of Springfield.

He stole from family members and, in 2001, wrote a $5,700 check to himself from a check he had stolen from his girlfriend.

Wacaser attributes most of his personal problems to a gambling addiction. In 2001, Wacaser pleaded guilty to two bank robberies, including one at BankChampaign, that he committed to get money for gambling.

Then, after being released from prison in 2009, Wacaser did the same thing.
He told authorities that after he robbed the Regions Bank in Decatur of $2,700, he drove to a gambling boat in the St. Louis area and lost all the money. The next day, he robbed the Illini Bank in Sherman, this time getting $1,021. He again drove to the St. Louis area, where he told authorities that he gambled and won. From there, Wacaser drove to a gambling venue in Davenport, Iowa, where he lost the money.

Along the way, Wacaser told police, he would fill his truck's tank at gas stations and drive off without paying. That apparently was a routine practice for Wacaser.

Wacaser sat impassively throughout last week's hearing. With longish hair and a dark beard flecked with gray, he kept his hands on the table in front of him and responded politely to the judge's questions. Before his sentencing, the ever-amiable Wacaser wrote McCuskey a long rambling letter that did not shed much light on the circumstances.

"I will listen intently (at the sentencing hearing), and please know I am thankful I am able to appear in your court and I cannot explain why I do the things I've done but at least I know I accept full responsibility," he said in his letter.

Wacaser said he committed the latest robberies with "zero intention of getting away."

"Yes, I was thankful I got caught because I was at bottom," he said.
Because the terms of the plea agreement were clear, no one - not McCuskey, prosecutor Colin Bruce or assistant federal public defender John Taylor - had much to say about the sentence.

Speaking not about the case but about his client, Taylor told the court that Wacaser had acted in a gentlemanly fashion toward him and listened to his advice.

"I could use about 99 more clients like him," Taylor said.

Jim Dey, a member of The News-Gazette staff, can be reached at jdey@news-gazette.com or at 217-351-5369.