In the February issue of GQ Magazine, Terrell Owens admits to being flat out broke. That’s following a career in which he raked in upwards of $80 million:
The problem, he says, is that he’s by nature too trusting, loyal to a fault, despite everyone’s carping that he’s selfish. It’s the sad old stereotypical song of the up-from-nothing black athlete: He let other people take care of things. He says his financial advisers (informally recommended by Rosenhaus) put him in a series of risky, highly leveraged ventures that he didn’t discover until autumn 2010, when he finally demanded a full accounting. And of course there were the houses and condos, which he had always figured he could rent out; they became dead weight when the real estate market collapsed in 2008. Individually they weren’t terribly lavish, but together the mortgage nut is reportedly almost $750,000 a year. The Atlanta house is on the market; the south Jersey place he paid $3.9 million for was sold for $1.7 million in late 2010. Most egregious of all was the ill-fated Alabama entertainment complex (with an electronic-bingo component) that cost him $2 million. He invested, he says, at the suggestion of his advisers and a lawyer they steered him to, Pamela Linden. The venture turned out to be illegal in the state, not to mention a violation of the NFL’s policy prohibiting players from investing in gambling. Owens is suing Linden, as is Clinton Portis, the former Redskins running back who also invested. (Several other players and the boxer Floyd Mayweather Jr. also got sucked into the venture.) (GQ.com)
To make things worse, Owens is a guy who’s still got some serious bills:
Friends may not be calling, or teams, but lawyers, a slew of them, definitely have him on speed dial. Especially those who represent the four women to whom he pays a total of $44,600 a month in child support for his four children, ages 5 to 12: “If there’s anything I’m sorry about, it’s getting involved with all that.” He never actually dated any of the women, he says. One was a one-night stand, the others “repeat offenders.” Owens, who has never been married, concedes he is “not a very good judge of character.” Still, he “never suspected they were the types to do what they done in the past year.” (GQ.com)
So what’s the root cause of Owens being broke? It’s simple: he’s crazy. And crazy people can’t hold onto money to save their lives.
You would think that insane folks wouldn’t be able to amass vast fortunes, but you’d be wrong. From Howard Hughes to Michael Jackson, the list of batshit nuts people who made huge coin is a long one.
Oh yes, you can be crazy and talented at the same time, and during his career Owens most certainly was. The dude caught 153 touchdown passes for five different franchises and had four different seasons in which he eclipsed the 1,300+ yard receiving barrier. That’s impressive stuff.
But while they’re bringing it in, the amount of money that these same eccentrics can piss away just boggles the mind. Let’s be honest, you gotta be some kind of nuts to start something like Neverland ranch.
Granted, plenty of sane people lose money as well, I’m not saying this phenomenon is exclusive to the unhinged masses of the world. But a crazy dude like Terrell Owens is FAR more likely to throw money at an investment that includes an “electronic-bingo component.”
But don’t take this as an indictment of T.O. on my part. No sir, I’ve always found him to be highly entertaining. Hell, this still makes me laugh:
Can Terrell Owens climb out of this financial abyss? Well, there’s really no market for a 38-year old wide receiver, even one who’s as insanely fit as he is. So the NFL cash spigot that once flowed so freely for him is most likely cut off.
Also, T.O. is paying more in child support each month than most people make in a YEAR. Until he gets some relief on that front, getting ahead will be hard to do. I feel bad for the dude, but once again, crazy is as crazy does.
File this under “News that doesn’t suprise anyone”:
The Orange County Sheriff’s Office confirmed Thursday afternoon that Pro Bowl NFL player Brandon Meriweather was present during a shooting in Apopka last month, but law enforcement officials made no other characterization of his role.
The Sheriff’s Office said Meriweather, a former star at Apopka High School and a safety with the New England Patriots, was present when two men were shot on Feb. 28.
At a news conference this afternoon, the Sheriff’s Office said it wants to talk to Meriweather about the shooting of Nico Glendale Stanley and Quentin Louis Ramone Taylor. (Orlando Sentinel)
A former University of Miami football player was present during a shooting? Hell, that’s damn near as commonplace as Lindsay Lohan’s trips to rehab and/or jail. But leave it to Deadspin to provide another level of detail to this story:
New England Patriots safety Brandon Meriweather allegedly shot two men, one of them in the head, during a fight on Feb. 27 outside a house party in Apopka, Fla., according to John Morgan, attorney for the victims.
The trouble started at the Blue Jeans Lounge in Apokpa when a friend of Meriweather’s allegedly beat up a woman, according to Morgan. The woman’s brother arrived later with his own friend, and the fight shifted to a nearby party, where the brother soon got the better of Meriweather’s friend. That’s when Meriweather allegedly pulled out his gun and fired at the brother, grazing the man’s face and hitting the other victim in the head, according to Morgan. (Deadspin)
If you recall, this isn’t the first time that Meriweather has discharged a firearm in public. I’ll let ESPN provide the details of the previous instance, which occurred in 2006:
Miami Hurricanes reserve safety Willie Cooper was shot in the buttocks when confronted in his yard Friday morning by an unknown person who fled after another player returned gunfire.
Police said Cooper was able to walk after being shot and the injury wasn’t believed to be serious, but he was taken to a hospital for treatment.
After Cooper was shot, teammate and roommate Brandon Meriweather pulled a pistol from his pants pocket and fired three times at the person, who jumped a fence and fled with another person in a car, police said. It was unclear if the assailant was hit.
Police said Meriweather used his gun legally.
Cooper and Meriweather told police they noticed a suspicious car parked outside their home near campus shortly after 6:30 a.m. When they went outside to investigate, a person crouched next to the house jumped up and shot Cooper. (ESPN.com)
Why is it that suspicious cars seem to follow Hurricane football players the way the DEA chopper followed Henry Hill in “GoodFellas?” Regardless of how his latest round of target practice is resolved in Florida, Meriweather will most certainly be dealt a suspension by NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. As the Ben Roethlisberger fiasco taught us, you don’t have to be found guilty of a crime to catch major heat from Goodell.
It’s Super Bowl week, and since the Steelers are participating this year, the nation will once again be subjected to an inordinate amount of talk concerning Troy Polamalu’s hair. His mane has become a national obsession, much like the Donald’s:
Of course, Polamalu’s hair is all real, which is a big difference. As a result, his locks are the envy of Korean hair salesmen everywhere. They all dream of drugging Troy, cutting his hair, washing it, bagging it and then selling it to women who routinely opt for a weave in lieu of paying their rent. And yes, you’re correct, I recently saw Chris Rock’s “Good Hair.”
This Sunday, millions of women will forsake the Lifetime network to join their husbands and boyfriends in man caves across the nation. However, the motivation of these women won’t be to watch the game itself but to take in all the new commercials. You know, the ones they’ll be fast forwarding through during their upcoming “Oprah” DVR marathons.
These same women will shout with glee when they spot a helmet-less Polamalu on the sideline. “Honey, that’s him, #43, he’s the guy from the Head and Shoulders commercial. What’s his name? Popahanu? Palumatu? Oh my goodness, he’s so cute, he reminds me of that guy that waited on us at that luau on our honeymoon.”
Do you realize how many hair metal bands had to come and go to allow Polamalu’s hair style to be acceptable for a football player? Hell, the band Cinderella released more ozone depleting chemicals than a Chinese factory to achieve this look:
I can’t fathom a guy trying to sport Polamalu hair back in the NFL that our grandfathers knew. If a dude had trotted out to the opening of a Vince Lombardi training camp in 1960 with a teased out lion’s mane, the not yet legendary coach would’ve died of a massive coronary right on the spot. As result, the Steelers and Packers would be playing for the Don Shula Trophy this Sunday.
But fast forward to the present and there is now plenty of hair flowing from underneath NFL helmets. And having that much business under his lid doesn’t appear to make Polamalu any less ferocious on the field. To me, that’s pretty amazing for a guy who’s got Cher hair:
These dingbats in the NFL missed a golden opportunity for one hell of a halftime show at this Super Bowl. Instead of the craptastic Black Eyed Peas, the equally craptastic Cher could’ve creeped us all out by walking out in a Polamalu jersey and singing this:
This one’s from the Pro Line Portraits set, which was put out way back in 1992. I had to do a double take at first to make sure this wasn’t Jasmine Guy and Kadeem Hardison doing a promo shot for “A Different World.” But if you think the front of the card is great, it’s got nothing on what’s written on the back of the card:
Irvin graduated from Miami with a bachelor’s degree in business. He works with a program for low-income students, called “Students Determined to Succeed,” and one of those students is Nyna Sherte (front), a promising singer. Irvin is managing her career. ”She’s the next coming of Janet Jackson.”
Well, as we all know, Ms. Sherte didn’t quite become Ms. Jackson. Hell, she didn’t even attain Tito Jackson status. Horrible management was probably to blame, because honestly, how focused could the Playmaker have been on her back then? In between playing for the Cowboys, sucking up most of the cocaine in the Metroplex and blabbing about “da U,” there wasn’t much time left over to wear his Teddy Riley hat.
Poor Nyna, she probably thought she was on the fast track to being in regular rotation on BET. I can only imagine how some of her phone conversations with the Playmaker might have went:
Nyna: “Hello, Michael, this is Nyna?”
Michael: “Who?!? Did I meet you at the club one time? How’d you get this number? That baby ain’t mine!”
Nyna: “No, Michael, it’s Nyna Sherte, you manage me.”
Michael: “Oh, yeah, yeah, that Nyna. Girl, you know I’m just playing around, I knew it was you. What you need?”
Nyna: “We were supposed to get some studio time today to lay down my demo. Are you coming to pick me up?”
Michael: “Studio time? Nyna, that’s next week, girl.”
Nyna: “No, I have a message on my machine where you mentioned the date, which is today.”
Michael: “Look, Nate Newton’s at the door, I gotta go see about this. Let me holler back at you.”
Nyna: “What time will you call me…hello? Hello?”
Thanks a lot, Howard Stern. You have the National Enquirer’s Mike Walker on every Thursday, and because of that, I’ve come to actually read NationalEnquirer.com from time to time. Now I not only get to feel dirty and cheap when I thumb through the Enquirer when I’m in line at the grocery store, I can recreate that same tawdriness in the comfort of my own home via the interwebs.
Lo and behold, this quality O.J. Simpson-related nugget caught my eye today on the site:
“I’ve got nothing left to live for now…I’m going to kill myself!”
Those were the desperate words of imprisoned O.J. Simpson after the Nevada Supreme Court refused to overturn his armed-robbery and kidnapping convictions and grant him a new trial.
What’s more, the two sports memorabilia collectors he robbed, Bruce Fromong and Alfred Beardsley - as well as his ex-agent Mike Gilbert - all fear that O.J. might try to take them out as a final act of vengeance!
“They believe that he’s going to try to have them murdered - and then kill himself,” divulged a close source. “After the ruling came down, they were nervously calling one another and talking about going into hiding!”
According to the source, Gilbert is concerned that O.J might use his $20,000-per-month pension to pay for a hit. (NationalEnquirer.com)
C’mon, O.J. hire a contract killer? He would never do that! The Juice is more of a hands on kind of guy, he’s always done his own killing.
In the clip below, the incredibly nerdy Chuck Klosterman provides us with some fantastic observations in presenting Simpson as the NFL Network’s 40th greatest player ever. We’ll always view the Juice’s athletic accomplishments (which were spectacular) through the prism of what he did later on. If he had continued being the O.J. we all loved, then he’d be a hell of a lot higher than #40 on this list:
Who the hell remembers anything O.J. did as a player? And who wants to? But that catch and run at the 2:07 mark was simply breathtaking, Emmitt Smith or Franco Harris never looked that good on a field. Oh well, the lesson learned is that if you want people to cherish your legacy, then avoid murderous rampages.
And for those of you looking to dip your toe into the NationalEnquirer.com pool as I have, proceed with caution. If Charlie Sheen is your idol, then this isn’t the web site you need to be frequenting this week.