The Caliente's Inaugural Season Had Blood, Sweat, Broken Bones, and a Lot of Lace

Comments (0) By Michael J. Mooney Thursday, Mar 11 2010

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Mortaza launched the first Lingerie Bowl, a $19.95 pay-per-view halftime show — the games took 30 minutes, and the teams were coached and refereed by former NFL players — in 2004, the year Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake played the Super Bowl. "We got all the heat," he says. "Turns out the nudity was at the network. We didn't even have nudity that year."

The slick self-proclaimed millionaire, whose record includes arrests for drunk driving and public intoxication, wasn't new to lowbrow entertainment. In the late '90s, Mortaza appeared on an episode of the show Blind Date. With a neon tan that glared under the high-powered lights and a shirt unbuttoned to his diaphragm, he said his nickname was "Razor" and his biggest turn-on was "toe rings." He called himself "the king of one-night stands" and told the camera, "I'm not out there lookin' for nuns." He showed up for his date wearing a black tank top, a shell necklace, a thumb ring, and a pair of designer sunglasses he didn't remove all night — even inside the candlelit restaurant.

C. Stiles

The Caliente defense struggled to stop the powerful Bliss running attack.

C. Stiles

Tina Caccavale, the "Ochocinco of the LFL," led the league in receptions and interceptions.

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Mortaza has also been accused of dodgy business practices. Though this year's championship is called Lingerie Bowl VII, there was no Lingerie Bowl VI. Last year's game was canceled when Mortaza and the luxury nudist resort where he hoped to hold the game couldn't agree on a nudity policy for the audience. More recently, the website the Smoking Gun published an email reportedly from Mortaza to a player who had written to him about disorganized practices. Mortaza replied: "Let me give you a little advice and this goes for any other player creating unnecessary drama. Simply SHUT UP and play football." He added that he wished the player would stop showing up "so we have reason to terminate you and assess the termination fine."

In December, when a group of former players complained that the league should be covering their medical bills, league lawyers sent out a threatening letter saying, "Evidence gathered indicates that you have all participated in the posting of false and defamatory internet posts regarding the Lingerie Football League, its current players, and league staff... These posts give rise to a cause of action for defamation, among other things."

At media day, Mortaza did not disclose how many pay-per-views the league sells or how much revenue is generated except to say they have "millions of fans." After the speeches and introductions, three players from each team are selected for a media Q&A session. Most of the photographers immediately start packing their cameras. When a publicist asks if there are any questions for the players, there is an awkward, extended silence.

The day of the Chicago game, the Caliente players have to be at the Hard Rock by early afternoon, though the game is scheduled for 11 p.m. It's the Thursday before the Super Bowl. The women spend most of the day wandering around the resort and casino — legendary wide receiver Jerry Rice is hosting a party ("Miami Rice") the same night on the other side of the massive Seminole property. One by one, Taira Turley does the team's makeup and tries to cover tattoos. The team warms up around 8, before a single fan is in the stands.

Two Seminole police officers watch as Dixon and Caccavale work on pass routes. At one point, Dixon drops back about two-thirds of the way down the 50-yard indoor field. She holds the ball in her right hand and softly taps it with her left, envisioning a set of speedy defensive backs swarming across the field. She plants her left foot in front of her and brings her left hand away from the ball, extending it slightly as if she's tearing apart the field in her mind, clearing a path for her pass. She twists at the abdomen, and her right arm fires with a surprising explosion of force. The ball is a tight spiral, ripping through the air so fast that it's audible.

It travels the length of the field in an instant. At the other end is Caccavale, her five-foot-nine frame turning, leaping into the air, her arms extended fully. And just when it seems certain the ball will sail out of the end zone, into the seats overlooking the field, it comes to a halting stop midair, in Tina Caccavale's white gloves.

The officers exchange a look, eyebrows raised. They're taken aback.

"I couldn't make that throw," says one.

"I couldn't make that throw or that catch," says the other, still incredulous. Now they can't take their eyes off Caccavale. "Wow."

After a few minutes, the Chicago players begin their warm-up at the other end of the field. The Miami players study them from a distance. They're a bit heavier, a little rougher-looking than the Caliente players. The Bliss is undefeated this season, beating most of their opponents by double digits. Chicago has a few great players of its own, including Tasha "The Tank" Pryor, a grinding, hard-to-tackle running back.

"Jesus, look at her," says Sasha Wood, pointing at Pryor. "How am I supposed to tackle the Tank? Look at me. She would kill me."