For a decade, First Take was ESPN’s crown jewel of morning sports debate. The chemistry between Steven A. Smith and Molly Qerim seemed unshakable—until it wasn’t. On September 15, 2025, Qerim abruptly resigned, blindsiding viewers, colleagues, and even Smith himself. What looked like a graceful farewell on camera unraveled within hours, exposing deep fractures inside ESPN: staggering pay disparities, alleged lack of allyship, and behind-the-scenes tensions that could no longer be hidden.

The Sudden Goodbye

One day, Qerim was moderating heated debates between Smith and guests. The next, she was gone. ESPN confirmed her departure almost immediately, framing it as a contract decision. Yet Smith’s candid comments on his SiriusXM show revealed something bigger.
“She abruptly resigned… the details, quite frankly, are none of y’all business,” Smith said, before admitting he didn’t know the full story either.

That contradiction raised red flags. If ESPN’s top star was kept in the dark, it wasn’t just business—it was a cover-up.

The Pay Disparity No One Could Ignore

Smith’s influence at ESPN had grown to towering heights, reinforced by a $100 million deal in March 2025, paying him $20 million annually. Qerim, meanwhile, reportedly earned between $500,000–$600,000. The numbers are staggering: Smith made 33 to 40 times more than his co-host—despite Qerim’s central role in ESPN’s highest-rated program.

Worse, other male hosts earned exponentially more. Mike Greenberg pulled in $6.5 million. Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon each made $6 million. Even younger talent like Malika Andrews was offered a multi-million-dollar extension, eclipsing Qerim’s pay.

Qerim reportedly asked ESPN for a raise reflecting her decade of service. Instead, sources describe the offer she received as a “lowball.”

Steven A’s Silence

Industry insiders say Qerim expected Smith—her partner of 10 years and ESPN’s most powerful voice—to advocate for her. He didn’t. Reports suggest Smith remained quiet through her negotiations, a decision many viewed as a betrayal of allyship.
On social media, fans noticed something else: in her Instagram farewell, Qerim didn’t even mention Smith by name. After a decade of working side-by-side, the omission spoke volumes.

A Complicated Relationship

Beyond money, the workplace dynamics between Smith and Qerim had long been scrutinized. Smith often commented on her appearance, made innuendo-laced jokes, and turned moments—like a vibrating phone incident—into viral discomfort. What viewers saw as playful banter may have crossed professional boundaries for Qerim.

Her job required her to hold her own against Smith’s fiery personality, and she did. But behind the scenes, that power imbalance—exacerbated by salary differences—made it clear whose voice carried more weight at ESPN.

ESPN’s Calculus

Burke Magnus, ESPN’s president of content, defended the network, claiming they wanted to keep Qerim and transition her to new roles. But the financial math tells another story: even a modest raise to $2 million annually—four times her current pay—would have still been just 10% of Smith’s salary. ESPN chose not to make that investment.

Meanwhile, rival network Fox Sports reportedly offered Qerim $2 million per year. To them, her value was obvious. To ESPN, she was replaceable.

Fallout in Sports Media

Qerim’s departure has become a watershed moment for gender equity in broadcasting. Her case isn’t just about one woman leaving one show—it’s about the systemic undervaluing of women in sports media.

If a veteran host of ESPN’s top-rated program can’t secure fair compensation, what does that say about opportunities for others?

Former ESPN analyst Marcellus Wiley didn’t mince words: “She saw younger female talent getting bigger contracts, she saw Stephen A making $20 million, and ESPN still wouldn’t pay her. That’s not business—that’s disrespect.”

What’s Next?

ESPN announced auditions for Qerim’s replacement, rotating potential moderators over 30–45 days. The speed at which they moved suggested the network’s message was clear: no one, not even a decade-long host, is irreplaceable.

But Qerim’s departure leaves questions ESPN can’t easily dismiss. Why didn’t the network value her contributions? Why didn’t Smith advocate for her? And will ESPN’s next female moderator face the same inequities?

For now, one truth stands: the partnership that defined First Take for a decade collapsed under the weight of money, power, and silence. And sports fans are left to wonder if the face of ESPN has been permanently scarred.