In the meticulously choreographed world of live television, every word, every gesture, and every fleeting expression is typically under intense scrutiny. Yet, even in the most polished productions, there are moments when the veil of professionalism slips, revealing the raw, unscripted humanity beneath. For Molly Qerim, the poised and professional host of ESPN’s First Take, these moments have become a fascinating—and at times, sensational—chapter in her career. From unintentional profanity to spontaneous dance moves and public on-air clashes, Qerim has, on multiple occasions, seemingly forgotten the pervasive gaze of the camera, delivering moments that have sparked social media frenzies, analytical deep dives, and a collective online gasp.

These are not mere bloopers; they are windows into the pressures of live broadcasting, the delicate dynamics of co-host relationships, and the unique challenges faced by a prominent female figure in the male-dominated arena of sports media. They offer a rare glimpse behind the curtain, showcasing a side of Qerim that is relatable, exasperated, and fiercely independent, often contrasting sharply with her carefully cultivated on-air persona.

One of the most instantly viral instances occurred on January 3rd, 2024, during a typical First Take debate. Stephen A. Smith, in one of his signature passionate monologues about personal growth, unexpectedly pivoted to compliment Qerim, praising her evolution from “just a host” to a “supermodel in people’s eyes.” While Smith delivered this effusive praise, the camera remained on him, but eagle-eyed viewers noticed Qerim in the background. Her reaction was unmistakable: with raised eyebrows and a slight head tilt, she silently mouthed three distinct words: “What the f***?” The lack of audio only amplified the visual, her facial expression a perfect cocktail of surprise and exasperation. The clip exploded across social media, with fans calling it “the highlight of First Take that day” and media outlets dissecting its unscripted authenticity. It was a moment that humanized the polished host, making her instantly relatable to anyone who has ever received an awkward compliment.

But Qerim’s unscripted moments extend beyond silent expletives. Rewind to June 2019, when First Take took a lighthearted detour into pop culture, discussing viral dance celebrations. In a moment of pure spontaneity, Qerim rose from her moderator’s chair and performed what could only be described as a shimmy with a twerk-like motion. It was brief, lasting only a few seconds, but it instantly changed the energy in the studio. Stephen A. Smith clapped enthusiastically, while Max Kellerman offered a mock critique. Online, however, reactions were polarized. Some praised her confidence and ability to keep the show entertaining, while others questioned the professionalism for a morning sports debate show, wondering if she had “forgotten the cameras were rolling.” This incident, in particular, underscored the double standard often faced by female hosts. While Smith’s animated outbursts are celebrated as his “signature style,” Qerim’s brief dance became a point of contention, highlighting the scrutiny she faces regarding her appearance and demeanor.

The line between entertaining banter and uncomfortable territory was further tested on August 15th, 2024, when a discussion about an NFL player’s social media activity veered into the topic of “foot fetishes.” Qerim, attempting lighthearted humor, questioned if this was “a thing now in the locker room.” The immediate studio reaction was telling: Smith widened his eyes in an exaggerated “Wo!”, and other panelists either chuckled nervously or fell silent, creating a noticeable pause. Qerim’s own expression shifted from playful amusement to mild regret. Social media, of course, had a field day, with users asking, “Did she forget she’s on ESPN?” This moment highlighted the delicate balance required on live network television, where an attempt at humor can quickly misfire, especially on topics that require careful handling.

Beyond self-inflicted blunders, Qerim has also found herself navigating the unpredictable nature of live television, sometimes trying to save her co-hosts from their own mishaps. On April 8th, 2024, during a heated debate, a camera angle revealed Stephen A. Smith’s open laptop on the desk, its screen partially exposed. An open laptop on broadcast television is a significant issue, risking the exposure of production notes, personal emails, or random browser tabs. Qerim immediately recognized the problem and attempted a masterclass in discreet damage control. She leaned towards Smith, making subtle hand gestures and quietly mouthing “Close it” or “Put it away,” her expression a mix of urgency and professionalism. Smith, however, completely locked into his argument, either didn’t notice or ignored her cues. The result was a brief but palpable flash of frustration on Qerim’s face, a moment quickly captured and shared online by viewers who posted, “Molly’s face said it all.” This incident showcased Qerim’s quick thinking and the often-unseen labor involved in maintaining a smooth live broadcast, even when her co-hosts are blissfully unaware.

Qerim’s role as moderator, usually a neutral facilitator, has also seen her step out of character to directly challenge her co-hosts. On March 20th, 2024, during an NCAA basketball tournament discussion, Stephen A. Smith launched into one of his characteristic hyperbolic critiques, declaring a coach’s decision “the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen in basketball history.” Anyone familiar with Smith knows that exaggeration is his stock in trade. But on this particular day, Qerim wasn’t having it. She interjected with unusual sharpness: “Stephen, come on, you can’t be serious with that. That’s absurd and you know it.” Her tone was firm, almost confrontational, conveying a frustration that suggested this wasn’t just about the basketball take, but perhaps about a pattern of exaggeration she’d finally had enough of. The studio went quiet, and Smith looked visibly surprised. This rare moment, where Qerim momentarily forgot her moderator role to respond with genuine fed-up disbelief, quickly became a viral clip, sparking speculation about underlying tensions on the show.

The dynamic between Qerim and Smith has produced other tense exchanges, sometimes with Qerim on the receiving end. On February 12th, 2024, Smith abruptly cut off Qerim mid-sentence during a segment on NBA trade deadline fallout. Qerim was carefully setting up a question, building towards her point, when Smith suddenly interrupted with a loud, attention-grabbing “Hold on, Molly, I gotta say this!” before launching into a tangent about LeBron James. Qerim’s reaction was immediate and telling: her eyes widened in shock, she leaned back, and folded her arms in a classic defensive posture. Most tellingly, she mouthed something that fans speculated was either “Are you serious?” or “Wow.” The camera lingered on her briefly, capturing this unguarded moment of exasperation. Social media swiftly condemned the interruption as disrespectful, highlighting the dynamic where Smith’s larger-than-life personality sometimes overrides the moderator’s authority.

The scrutiny Qerim faces extends even to the most mundane details of her workday. On June 25th, 2024, during a sports discussion, the conversation took an unexpected turn toward Qerim’s personal habits. Her co-hosts began making pointed observations about her eating and snacking on set. Comments like, “Don’t eat any, Molly, you’ve been eating enough,” followed by a quick, “I’m not talking about how you look, you look great,” revealed an uncomfortable awareness that a precarious line was being walked. The sustained focus on her food consumption—what she was eating, how much she was eating—represented the kind of scrutiny female hosts often face regarding their bodies and personal habits in ways that male hosts rarely experience. Qerim’s response showed a struggle to maintain professionalism while clearly uncomfortable, her facial expressions conveying a sense of being watched and judged for a basic human activity during a long workday. This incident resonated with many viewers, particularly women, who have experienced similar workplace scrutiny.

Even lighter, more genuinely funny moments can still leave Qerim flustered. On May 7th, 2024, a slight camera shift revealed Qerim’s desk cluttered with four or five coffee mugs, creating what looked less like a professional broadcast workspace and more like someone who had been collecting cups throughout a long day. Stephen A. Smith immediately seized the moment, joking, “Hold up, Molly, what’s going on here? You got a whole coffee shop on your desk!” Qerim’s reaction was priceless—a mixture of genuine embarrassment and good-natured acceptance. She glanced at the mugs, let out a sheepish laugh, and even tried to subtly slide one out of view, amplifying the humor. This moment, though lighthearted, still caught Qerim off guard, revealing a glimpse behind the polished curtain of her professional demeanor.

Perhaps one of the most serious incidents highlighting the challenges of modern sports journalism occurred on July 22nd, 2025. During a segment on NFL training camp, Qerim introduced what she believed to be footage of Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver George Pickens making an impressive catch during a joint practice with the Dallas Cowboys. There was one massive problem: the footage wasn’t George Pickens at all. It was two-year-old archival footage of the Cowboys’ own receiver, Brandon Cooks. The mix-up stemmed from a viral social media hoax, a cleverly edited post designed to troll sports media outlets, and ESPN’s production team fell for it without verification. To her credit, Qerim addressed the mistake at the end of the broadcast, issuing a straightforward apology. However, the incident highlighted the double-edged sword of modern sports media—the pressure to produce content quickly can sometimes override the necessity of basic fact-checking, and even seasoned professionals can fall victim to viral misinformation.

Molly Qerim’s journey on First Take is a compelling narrative of navigating the complexities of live television. These moments, where the unscripted breaks through the planned, are more than just isolated incidents. They collectively paint a picture of a host under immense pressure, constantly balancing professionalism with personality, and often finding herself in unexpected, sometimes uncomfortable, situations. Yet, it is precisely in these unguarded moments that Qerim’s resilience, quick wit, and genuine humanity shine through, captivating audiences and solidifying her place as a formidable and undeniably engaging figure in sports media.