Tim Rohan often does these type of assignments for SI, but I am going to assume even for him this was interesting. Warren Sapp is disliked by a lot of people, but he was a hell of a football player.
He had a real cushy job at the NFL Network he lost because of hookers, and now he spends his times smoking blunts and going to strip clubs.
Here is a part of Rohan’s story on Sapp.
Sapp predicts that he won’t last beyond midnight—but then at halftime, around 10 p.m., he announces we’re relocating.
“We need to get some a– in your face,” he says.
Sapp orders a vodka soda, gets me a gin and tonic, and surveys the scene. Twenty bucks for a dance, he informs me—but for $150, he says, there’s more to be had.
Sapp seems happy to have a reporter around, a platform to voice his opinions again. Earlier, in his car, he waxed poetic on current events, from the U.S. President (“You wake up now and ask, ‘Is this motherf—– going to start a war?’ ”) to VP Mike Pence (“His bible must burn up when he puts his hand on it at night”) to Colin Kaepernick (“Any time the s— you bring [exceeds] your talent, you’re out of here”).
Our drinks arrive, and Sapp calls a girl over, offering her $100 to dance for me. He’s trying to play host, maybe curry favor. (Full disclosure: I do buy a dance, but I use my own money.) Later on I notice he hasn’t gotten a dance himself. “They’ve got hidden cameras [in the back room], I swear,” he explains. His eyes widen. “They’ll blackmail you if you’re the right person.”
First off it is robbery to pay $100 for a dance unless it is Rihanna dancing.
Sapp also speaks about what eventually cost him his job at the NFL Network.
Here’s how Sapp says it went down: Late on the night of Super Bowl XLIX, after he finished his broadcast work for the NFL Network, he headed to his hotel in downtown Phoenix and was going up to his room when he spotted some of his coworkers drinking at the lobby bar. “Flag one: I’m hanging out with people I don’t [typically] hang out with,” he says. “And these [women] were in their company!”
What happened next is the subject of some debate. Sapp outlined his version of events in a taped interview with Phoenix police, a copy of which was obtained by The MMQB. From the bar, Sapp says, he took two women up to his room, each of whom he paid $300 in cash. “Everybody got naked,” he told authorities, and he started taking pictures of the women on his bed. (To police: “I’m silly like that sometimes.”) Sapp received oral sex, which he recorded on his phone, and then he suggested to one of the women that they have intercourse, at which point that woman asked for more money. “That’s when I said, ‘This is over,’ ” Sapp told police. “I grabbed her stuff off the desk area, threw it out the door.”
In Sapp’s version of events, one of the women spat in his face as they left, and grabbed his phone from his hand. Sapp found himself naked in the hallway, trying to wrestle the device back.
The two women told police a different story. Sapp, they claimed, grabbed one them by the arm, choked her and threw her out of the room. (The police report notes bruising on her right arm and an abrasion on the left.)
That was just a real stupid way to lose your job.
If you are going to get some hookers don’t get them out of the hotel lobby or the back page, that would be my advice to you.