March 13, 2009, - 10:54 am
Baby Daddy of the Year: How an NFL Multi-Millionaire Goes For Broke
By Debbie Schlussel
Yes, it’s still early in 2009. But I have the DebbieSchlussel.com Baby Daddy of the Year Award winner all figured out. And, no, it isn’t Palin baby daddy Levi Johnston. Not even close. It’s Travis Henry. (Yeah, I know, I already nominated him in 2007. But he’s still the king of baby daddies, and he’s now back in the news whining about it.)
So many American males dream of being a pro athlete. They imagine tens of thousands in a stadium cheering them on. And then there’s the women–the groupies, the money, the fame. And, oh, yeah, the women.
Well, as the story of former NFL player Travis Henry illustrates, having an Islamic-style harem when you’re not a Saudi sheikh has its problems–problems for which the American taxpayers and American society will have to pay. I last wrote about Henry when he had garnishment orders for nine different children he fathered with nine different women in six different states. This guy is the sperm donor version of Johnny Appleseed. He’s sorta like the male version of the OctoMom Palestinian chick. And about as loathsome.
And nine kids won’t have a father. How many grow up to become criminals? Baby daddies (or baby mamas), themselves? High school drop-outs and drug users? Most of ’em, the statistics say.
As I noted back in 2007, Henry had a $25 million contract. He had a $100,000 car and spent $146,000 on jewelry. That’s why you’ll have to pay for his nine progeny.
Now this multi-millionaire cretin, who listens to his sex-seeking instinct no differently than a non-thinking animal, says he’s broke.
So sad, too bad. Would love to be a fly on the wall (or the videographer) at the Henry family reunion.
Memo to pro athletes: If you’re gonna live like Bin Laden (and have as many concubines and kids), make sure you–not American taxpayers–pick up the tab.
About 90% of the sports fans out there will still cheer this jack ass and call you a hater.
samurai on March 13, 2009 at 11:28 am