Jesse Palmer, the popular ESPN football analyst and major babe magnet, put it succinctly: “An airplane hangar with a South Beach theme. Amazing.”
Palmer was describing the 10,000-square-foot facility that had been transformed into a Super Bowl soiree site. The hangar — on the corporate-jet fringes of TIA — normally houses the Eddie DeBartolo Jr. family’s Gulfstream 550 private jet.
THAT DeBartolo family. Of billionaire eminence. Of shopping-center development and NFL franchise-ownership fame. Of local philanthropy and social swirl renown.
The hangar, as it turned out, was that “undisclosed location” that the co-presenters, Tampa-based DeBartolo Sports and Entertainment and event-package promoter PrimeSport, had been teasing the public and the media with for weeks. It proved the perfect covert venue. Nondescript in exterior and logistically friendly — within walking and shuttling distance of Raymond James Stadium on game day.
And come Super Bowl Sunday, the DeBartolo hangar had, indeed, morphed into “Club 009.” From 1:30 to 4:30 it was home to a glitzy, pre-game, hospitality bash, a James Bond-themed affair officially hosted by Palmer and pro football legend Jerry Rice.
Individual tickets went for $450 a pop. About 600 partygoers Bonded for the cause.
Picture a kaleidoscope of faces and hues and cell phone cameras. Football celebs and all those enamored of them — including DeBartolo friends, trendy locals, out-of-towners in team jerseys and media – some of whom were doing live radio remotes.
Overheard: “Excuse me, but I just took a photo of this guy because everybody else was. But I don’t know who he is. Do you?”
In a San Franciso blur, there went former 49ers Randy Cross, Roger Craig and Rice. The most recognizable was Rice, 46, who broadened his fan base with his performance on “Dancing With The Stars.” He busted an occasional move while on schmooze control.
Conspicuous Tampa A-Listers ranged from the ubiquitous Ron Weaver, prominent Tampa attorney, to the comely Heather Shaw, the general manager of WestShore Plaza’s Sak’s Fifth Avenue store.
“This is great,” gushed Lisa DeBartolo, 39, the oldest DeBartolo daughter. “It looks nothing like what it’s used for. My mom (Candy DeBartolo) has already said she wants to keep the bar.”
Indeed, the wonder was how that utilitarian hangar had gone bar-less all these years.
Fronting the open hangar was a tropical tableau: white sand, canopied cabanas, deck chairs, hammocks, potted palms, grouper-oriented food stations and plenty of open bars, both mini and an elevated beach version that afforded panoramic views of jet row backdropped by the Renaissance Tampa Hotel International Plaza. And, yes, martinis were both shaken and stirred.
And winsomely criss-crossing the transformed landscape: lots of leggy Bond girls. Several had to pinch their tight, black micro skirts with their fingers so they wouldn’t ride up to risqué regions.
Inside had a reception/nightclub/booster ambience.
A concierge desk was fully functional. Eight plasma TVs, all tuned to pre-game network banter, lined the walls, and premium, (open) mini-bars occupied the corners.
A continuous orbit of diners was testimonial to the Florida-themed buffet’s popularity. Notable crowd favorites: paella, an exotic bonus for those from Phoenix and Pittsburgh, and the rack of lamb. A large stage and a DJ perch hovered above an ad hoc dance area. Couches and love seats created a VIP backstage-lounge atmosphere around the perimeter.
The dynamic: plenty of old-fashioned networking, mild Steeler-Cardinal trash talking, aggressive jock-gawking – and intermittent dancing.
DJ Rekka was nothing if not eclectic. From “Sweet Home Alabama” to relatively benign rap. He alternated with the eponymous Miggs rock band. Recording artist Don Miggs is the husband of Lisa Debartolo. No one, reportedly, complained that the music wasn’t loud enough.
The stage was alternately the domain of Miggs and the Palmer-Rice duo, who conducted three 15-minute “chalk talks.” These involved former or current NFL players – such as New England Patriots’ running back Laurence Maroney — chatting about the upcoming game and offering analysis.
Then back to Rekka or Miggs.
“You need to know this,” convincingly pointed out Lisa’s mom, the kinetically engaging, 62-year-old Candy, “the DeBartolos have a serious side and a fun side. We’re the glitz and glamour part.”
As she spoke, a cocoon of cronies and celeb-trackers had formed nearby around Rice. Seemingly, everyone who didn’t want to dance with him wanted to ask him about his “Dancing with the Stars” experience. He would accommodate both.
Rice said he initially didn’t realize the cultural Zeitgeist that he had aligned himself with. “To be honest,” he acknowledged, “I didn’t know the magnitude of “‘Dancing With The Stars.’”
Known for his moves on the football field, Rice had to learn to apply some from a decidedly different arena.
“They had me doing seductive moves in front of the mirror,” he said to a burgeoning, tittering entourage. “That was the only uncomfortable part.”
This, however, wasn’t the Leather and Lace crowd. No Diddy, Paris or anyone named Kardashian. A lot of these high-end, high-energy folks actually understood football.
Including hard-core Steeler fan Mark Bado, 44. His day job is general manager of the Kansas City Country Club. This day was all about his game face. Amazing what you get when you combine yellow-and-black face paint, heavy eye shadow, a dark, droopy wig and an old-school, leather helmet. In Bado’s case: Howard Stern meets Alice Cooper.
“I have very few vices,” he quipped. “This obviously qualifies.”
It was Bado’s first visit to Tampa and he echoed other game-going visitors’ sentiments.
“I’m having fun and nobody’s talking about wind-chill factors,” he noted. “How good is that? The Super Bowl needs to go to just four or five cities, and this is definitely one.”
Jesse Palmer’s Journey
Seemingly unfazed by spontaneous queues of females and gratuitous squeals of “You so fine,” Jesse Palmer, 30, reflected on his meteoric rise in the high-profile, hybrid world of sports entertainment.
The 6’ 2” Toronto native is a former Florida Gator quarterback who had stints with the New York Giants and San Francisco 49ers of the NFL. What brought him to the attention of a far greater audience, however, was his well-received appearance on ABC’s “The Bachelor” in 2004. The timing proved fortuitous when ESPN needed a college football analyst, and Palmer called it a grid career after the 2006 season.
And, yes, he’s still a bachelor.
· “‘The Bachelor’ was fun. It was unique. But it wasn’t realistic. But it certainly changed my life. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
· “Sure, I miss playing. We all do. This is a different kind of fun. And it’s definitely easier on my body.”
· “So much has happened so fast. I really enjoy it, but you have to find time for yourself. I live in New York, but I have a place in Orlando that I retreat to.”
· “The hardest part of the job is objectivity. You have to leave all your biases at the door and call it like it is. And, yeah, sometimes former teammates and old friends don’t always like it.”
DeBartolo Family Foundation
When your father is the former owner of the San Franciso 49ers and has five Super Bowl trophies at home, people expect you to have a sports-themed career if you’re a DeBartolo kid. Lisa DeBartolo can tell you there’s a lot more to it.
Back in the 49er days, she ran the team’s charitable foundation and organized the first AIDS Awareness Day in the NFL. She was also the go-to DeBartolo in the launch of Hillsborough County’s (Derrick) Brooks-DeBartolo Collegiate (charter) High School. She and her sister Nikki, 33, are executive vice presidents of DeBartolo Holdings LLC.
Lisa is also de facto executive director of the DeBartolo Family Foundation. In fact, a percentage of the “Club 009” proceeds will revert back to the DFF – plus Toshiba will donate six of the plasma TVs.
Since 2001, Lisa has presided over the disbursement of more than $300,000 annually in community grants and scholarships through the Foundation.
The DFF also presents the “Spirit of Humanity Award,” which, along with $25,000, went most recently to both St. Petersburg-based All Children’s Hospital and Tampa’s Freedom Playground Foundation. Additionally, the DFF sponsors a number of charity events ranging from the All Star Charity Gala to an annual Christmas luncheon with the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department.
“I was so blessed growing up,” says Lisa DeBartolo. “We were taught to give back. Yes, I think it’s an obligation, but I love doing it.
“This is an extension of our family,” she underscores, “We don’t do it for the thanks. But to see someone’s life made better.”