In the latest twist of what's becoming the NBA's most dramatic off-court play, federal authorities charged two additional suspects in connection with the Jontay Porter game rigging scheme. Timothy McCormack and Mahmud Mollah have been slapped with conspiracy to commit wire fraud charges, adding their names to the league's increasingly colorful rogues gallery.

Mahmud Mollah, one of the newer figures in the scandal, apparently turned hoop dreams into high-dollar nightmares. Mollah raked in $1.13 million from bets on two rigged games, making him the kind of gambler who puts Vegas oddsmakers on edge and small nations on notice. His co-conspirator, McCormack, was a bit less ambitious but still made a tidy sum, winning $44,000 in one game and an additional $33,250 in another by betting on Jontay Porter's underperformance. That's right, McCormack managed to turn someone's bad night into his good fortune—like a true opportunist.

The scheme truly revolved around Jontay Porter, who has now been banned for life by the NBA. An investigation found that Porter placed at least 13 bets on NBA games using someone else's account. The irony that his own betting inspired his own demise is enough to make even Shakespeare envious.

For those keeping track, this scandal wasn't your usual “point-shaving lite” episode. No, this was high-stakes drama featuring rigged betting parlays on Porter's game performance in categories like points, rebounds, and blocks. It’s like playing basketball Bingo but with a guaranteed win—and also, it's a felony.

The alleged conspirators reportedly met at an Atlantic City casino before the infamous March 20 game against the Sacramento Kings. Talk about setting the scene—smoke-filled rooms, whispers of million-dollar schemes, and then, a game of chance and deception.

And let's not forget the theatrics Porter employed during the games. The March 20 game involved Porter faking a stomach bug, while the January 26 game saw him pretending to have an eye injury. Daniel Day-Lewis would be proud, assuming he invests in craps tables.

As for what led Porter down this Dickensian path, it turns out that he incurred significant gambling debts and was coerced by one conspirator to throw games to clear these debts. Porter initially contacted the conspirators through encrypted messages, informing them about his brilliant plan to fake injuries and underperform. Encrypted messages and duplicitous motives—this is not just a sports scandal, but a screenplay writing itself.

One of Porter's partners in crime, Long Phi Pham, was released on a $750,000 bond, suggesting there's still faith in the American justice practice of letting you out if you can pay your way. Meanwhile, the fourth member of this felonious quartet remains unnamed and at-large, no doubt making cameo appearances in crime capers any day now.

On whether Jontay Porter himself faces federal charges, federal prosecutors are keeping their cards close to their chest, declining to confirm any ongoing investigations. Ah, the plot thickens.

As the scandal ripples out, it's not just Jontay Porter who is under scrutiny. It’s a tale that spans beyond court-side seats and locker room whispers, touching on deep-seated vulnerabilities and the staggering lengths people will go to exploit them. One thing’s for certain, NBA fans and federal prosecutors alike will be keeping their eyes peeled for the next gripping chapter.