Saturday, January 27, 2001
Players can find trouble in Tampa
TAMPA, Fla. — For NFL players, Super Bowl week is spring break with limos. After five months of militaristic grind, school's out and men will be boys.
How much trouble can a player get into, Cris Collinsworth?
“As much as he wants,” Collinsworth said.
Collinsworth is not being autobiographical. He has been to lots of Big Bowls, as player, analyst and celebrity. Not as a bon vivant. Carry on, Cris.
“Everybody wants to have a player around. It's corporate America. They all want to say they met so-and-so. It's like hanging around the Academy Awards hoping to meet an actor.”
The clubs throw open their doors to players. The women simply throw them
selves. There is nothing quite so intoxicating to an NFL player as Super Bowl week. “It's their 15 minutes of fame,” Collinsworth said. “Toward the end of the week, everybody is going out and going crazy. There's plenty of everything at Super Bowl week.”
Especially in Tampa, where “gentlemen's clubs” are as prevalent as palm trees. When a woman in Tampa says she's a dancer, she probably didn't go to Juilliard.
Young guys with lots of money and time, where do you think they're going to go? Chuck E. Cheese's?
Which brings us to Joe Redner.
Cleaner image?
“They said we were looking like the lap-dance capital of the world,” Redner said. “But we weren't, at least not to the common folk who go to Busch Gardens or Orlando. Now they know, too.”
Redner owns Mons Venus, the best-known club in town. It's not quite the Magic Kingdom. The place sits windowless along the urban strip-sprawl of Dale Mabry Highway, within eyesight of Raymond James Stadium, site of Super Bowl XXXV.
That's either horrifying or ironically hilarious, depending on your sense of humor.
The NFL thought it was so scary it sent out a written warning to every team and to the players' union about Tampa's tawdry side. Which of course, saved Redner the trouble of having to advertise.
A year ago, Tampa decided to scrub itself. It enacted an ordinance requiring dancers stay at least 6 feet from their customers. No more lap rhumbas. Think of it as Tampa's version of a holding penalty.
On Friday, it wasn't working all that well. Dancers and patrons at Mons Venus couldn't have been any closer if they were soldered together.
Players not deterred
What this has to do with football is everything. The NFL, a most image-conscious league, is reeling from the murder trial of Rae Carruth and the sexual assault trial of Mark Chmura. It has endured the unsightly sight of Baltimore Ravens linebacker and acquitted murder defendant Ray Lewis on center stage all week.
All it needs now is a few players to be busted at a strip joint. Though, if we're being honest, what is Super Bowl week but a publicity lap dance for the NFL?
“They're not going to raid anybody,” Redner said. “They don't want to take the chance it might be a dignitary or a football player.” Asked if anyone from the NFL had spoken to him, Redner said no. “Players, coaches and NFL officials have spoken to me over the years by coming into the club,” he said.
Meanwhile, if Tampa's civic leaders are serious about the problem, Cincinnati can help them out. Just dial 1-800-SI-LEIS.
Paul Daugherty welcomes your comments at (513) 768-8454.
Sports Stories
New Cinergy Field has views, grass, character
Readers like tall wall
New manager likes grass
Graves biggest star at Redsfest
Baseball blocks Deion's contract
UC, Wake Forest need boost
Southern Miss women 81, UC 71
Chalmers takes aim at Duquesne
XU women 72, St. Bonaventure 60
Bengals not happy with training staff
Players can find trouble in Tampa
