Media Careers
If coaching is the most logical extension of playing, then becoming a media sports commentator is a close second. Take it from Mark Schlereth, former NFL lineman and current ESPN broadcaster: “My father told me, ‘Do something you like to do and you’ll never have to get up in the morning and go to work.’ That’s what I did. I got to live out my childhood dream, played 12 years in the NFL and I’ve been talking about it ever since.29 Radio, TV, internet outlets, and programming of all sorts make it possible to make an impression, if not a living, commenting on sports. The demand for commentators, pundits, and critics seems insatiable. NFL player credentials lend authenticity as well as expertise to a media presence.
By and large, players and former players view jobs in the media as viable and attractive ways of making money, if not a living, after football. They’ve been on camera and the other side of the microphone throughout their careers. With the advent of social media such as Facebook and Twitter, they’re becoming skilled in textual communication—in 140 characters or less. Hakeem Chapman was ahead of the media game as far back as the 1960s, when he began taking acting classes in anticipation of moving behind a microphone or in front of a camera. Today, players routinely appear on TV and radio year-round, and post blogs and maintain web sites devoted to football and related issues. They’ve already got a foot in the door.
The demands of actually working full time in the media, however, often surprise former players. As in football, excellence requires preparation and practice, and media work involves many of the aspects of coaching that turn players off. Some former players would like media jobs, but only want to work a few hours a week—mainly on the air. Former linebacker Derrick Brooks, who worked as an ESPN analyst before becoming president of the Arena Football League’s Tampa Bay Storm, decries this attitude: “When guys tell me they want to be on television, I’ll ask if they’re willing to broadcast a high school game for nothing to gain experience. And their response is, ‘No. I’m such-and-such.’ I tell them, ‘Well, you’re nobody in this game.’ You need to put as much effort into this as you put into being a player.”30
Players are sometimes caught off guard by the pay scale. Celebrity broadcasters with national network jobs make good money, maybe millions, and that’s presumed to be the norm. But apart from the relatively small handful of jobs with major networks and in large local media markets (e.g., New York, Chicago, Dallas, and L.A.), TV and radio jobs aren’t necessarily lucrative, especially if one only works a few hours a week. A big-market sports talk radio host might make close to a million annually if ratings are good, but the norm falls well below six figures. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the median salary for radio “announcers” and “talk show hosts” was around $27,000 in 2010, ranging from as little as $17,000 up to nearly six figures for the top ten percent. Television pays a bit better than radio. Former pro stars can expect to make more initially than “sports geeks” who are starting out in the business, but some “on-air personalities” make as little as $20 an hour on a part-time basis.31
To establish a serious media career, former players need to learn the ropes. There are a wide variety of roles to learn: play-by-play announcer, color analyst, pundit, talk show host, comic sidekick, and others. Each demands its own skill set. Some players believe that doing a talk show simply involves showing up and talking, but according to professionals in the industry, that’s far from the case.32 One needs to learn the “off-air” technical workings of broadcasting as well as develop the requisite on-air talents. Analytic acuity, expert knowledge, a quick wit, an engaging sense of humor, and the ability to engage or infuriate others are important assets to cultivate. For radio work, a voice must be clear and distinctive, while TV makes its own visual demands. And being well organized and committed to planning are crucial in broadcasting. This sounds a lot like coaching, if not playing, football.
Many players get their first taste of professional media exposure by appearing on weekly local TV or radio shows centered around their teams, while others pick up a few hundred dollars by calling in to radio stations once a week during the season for brief conversations. The professional possibilities are tantalizing, but deceptive. Transforming brief engagements into media careers is challenging. Recently, the NFL has been helping players make that leap, offering formal training in media work, including “boot camps” in “Broadcasting” and “Sports Journalism and Communications.”33
Beyond the money, and perhaps most importantly, jobs in the sports media supply many components of life in the bubble that players treasure. First, there’s public attention, if not adulation. Second, there’s excitement of performing before a crowd. It may not be the adrenaline rush of running out of the tunnel at the Super Bowl, but there is something exhilarating about going on the air for a vast audience. Former Green Bay Packer LeRoy Butler provides a glimpse of what motivated his budding media career: “When the crowd noise stops, you got to turn it back on . . . and that is why I like being on [the radio] everyday. . . . Score a touchdown, do a Lambeau Leap. . . . This [being on radio and TV] is Lambeau Field to me.”34
Third, sports broadcast settings often involve the sort of camaraderie that players experienced in the NFL. The importance of this can’t be overstated. Former players miss their teammates. They miss the locker room. They miss the teamwork and striving for a common goal. Some media jobs provide all of these. According to longtime broadcaster Rich Eisen, working for the NFL Network is as close to recreating NFL camaraderie as one can get. It’s a “frat boy” version of an NFL locker room, with all the hijinks, bawdy humor, misogyny, and comradeship that can be packed into a workplace.35 Taken together, these aspects of media work make it especially inviting to former players if they’re willing to pay the price.
Cashing In on Celebrity
Many former players would like to be paid simply for being popular icons or celebrities. Lending out their name or their presence can be both lucrative and ego boosting. Product endorsement, for example, cashes in on gridiron fame without requiring extensive new or specialized skills. Few players, however, have the cachet or star power to garner lucrative nationwide endorsements. Once you get past the elite quarterbacks, few players hit the motherlode. The Manning brothers, Aaron Rodgers, Tom Brady, and Drew Brees have multimillion-dollar advertising deals, but even other stars have trouble attracting six-figure endorsement money. For most, it’s far less and the well runs dry rather quickly. Only the occasional icon—such as Joe Montana—or other players who have maintained high entertainment-media profiles—such as Terry Bradshaw—continue to cash in on their names and personas years after they’ve left the game.36 Occasionally, former players like Jim Brown and Carl Weathers parlay their NFL notoriety into substantial Hollywood careers. Many others dabble at the periphery of the film industry before fading away. As with most professions, becoming a serious actor requires talent, commitment, training, and work.
Numerous former players, however, are able to trade on their NFL celebrity on a smaller scale. Autograph signings, often combined with memorabilia sales, are ubiquitous. Depending upon the locale and market, they can be quite lucrative, even for players with minimal name recognition. The venues run the gamut from convention halls to sports bars and strip mall openings. Fees run from a few dollars per signature charged directly to autograph seekers to several thousand dollars for extended sessions with autograph and memorabilia dealers, who pay for hundreds of signatures at a time. Internet booking agencies hook up players with events, offering either a set fee or a percentage of the revenue generated.37
Some former players remain in demand as entertainment “personalities” or motivational speakers. Even 40 years after his final game, Hakeem Chapman still capitalizes on his modest fame:
[After I retired] I did films and a lot of stuff. I was on the first Mod Squad series. I wasn’t one of the lead principals, but I was on the show every week. I did a lot of acting, and I started [motivational speaking]. I too
k those acting qualities and put them in front of the audience. Now, when I talk, I entertain the people, and I keep them awake. I have about three gigs a month. . . . I’m at a church tailgate party, and I am at a casino and they pay very handsomely. You make yourself $4,500 or $5,000.38
We need to keep this success in perspective. Chapman is an extraordinary character, with keen foresight and adaptability. He planned and prepared to make the most of his celebrity, and it’s paid off. A journeyman, he played on several championship teams, but was never a star. But he recognized the opportunities that came with an NFL career and industriously and intelligently pursued them. Recall that he laid the groundwork for jobs in business, real estate, and stock sales. He anticipated a possible entertainment career and trained for it, too. As he observes about his current success as a celebrity, “So, how did I do this? I prepared for it. I knew how I would be on stage. I can address people. I can talk. Studying acting, I can relate to the people and give the people what they want to hear and see.”39 Many former NFL players like to be paid for who they were, not what they do now. Chapman maximized both through planning, preparation, and the willingness to provide something people would pay for. He realized he had to deliver a viable product, not simply show up at a gig.
Being paid for who one is—or who one was—can be easy money, but it’s an occupation with limited horizons. The perilous side of selling yourself as a commodity is your value is completely market dependent and you’ve got only one aging commodity to sell. You’re not producing anything, or providing a value-added service. When a player is valuable in name only, he may be employed by a business, but he might not actually be part of the business operation. His place in the hierarchy is peripheral, and he’s gaining no professional capital. His name and his past are all he’s got. That’s fine for selling autographs, but it holds less currency in more substantial professional ventures.
Philanthropy
Ask former NFL players what they’ve been doing with their time since retiring and many of them mention their “charity work.” They acknowledge their good fortune and genuinely want to “give something back” to the community. By and large, they are genuinely altruistic, although many aren’t averse to mixing business with philanthropy. Done right, everybody wins. David Jordan’s story, for example, puts charity work squarely in the middle of his post-football career and introduces some ways in which philanthropy, earning a living, and the player ethos intertwine.
The whole first year [after being cut] I just worked out. I did a lot of charity work. I got involved in the March of Dimes. Then I started traveling the country doing a lot of different things, getting a lot of golf events for charity. As the years progressed, I wanted to do more charity work but also have a job. So I cut back a little bit on the charity work. Then, finally, two years ago, I took it upon myself that I wanted to become a world long drive competitor in golf. I made it to the world championships. So now what I do is I travel the country doing charity and corporate celebrity events, doing all different types of golf, trick shots, long-drive exhibitions. I will do charity events. I will do corporate events. Number one is making an income for me and my family, and also making money for some of these charities.40
Clearly, Jordan is playing off his NFL celebrity for both personal and charitable gain. Much of his time, and often his signature, is given for free, but he also shares in the revenue, receiving an appearance fee to assist in fundraisers. It’s not uncommon, for example, for a charity autograph and memorabilia signing session or a golf outing to generate thousands of dollars worth of donations, as much as $10,000 of which may go to the former player as an appearance fee or honorarium, plus expenses.41
When they initially come into big money for the first time, NFL players’ gratitude often leads them to establish charitable foundations, which the players continue to run after they have retired. Some of these become major philanthropic forces, especially if the player is a star and his commitment is abiding.42 Other foundations are well intentioned, but less than efficient in funneling money to worthy causes. Their activities tend to wane, especially when players’ salaries run out after retirement. Still other foundations are thinly veiled money-making schemes, if not outright scams. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. Individually, or through their foundations, players may provide fund raising services (e.g., motivational speeches, appearances at golf tournaments or other outings) for which they (or their foundations) are paid. The same services might also be sold to corporate entities or philanthropic organizations, with fees varying widely. Foundations may hold fund-raisers of their own, often passing along the money raised directly to established community agencies or indirectly through other charitable organizations (e.g., the American Cancer Society).
Too often, however, little of the money donated finds its way to the causes for which it was ostensibly intended. An ESPN Outside the Lines investigation of 115 charities run by high-profile athletes (including NFL stars) found that most of these charities “don’t measure up to what charity experts would say is an efficient, effective use of money.” Seventy-four percent of the charities fell short of one or more acceptable nonprofit operating standards, including how much money an organization actually spends on charitable work as opposed to administrative expenses and whether there is sufficient oversight of its operations. Unfortunately, too many former NFL players have been involved in questionable practices. It’s not uncommon, for example, for players to use their charities to provide jobs for friends and relatives. Sometimes they use them to support indulgent lifestyles.43
To be sure, former players aren’t getting rich running charitable foundations. But operating a foundation supplies former players with a bit of the “action” they lost when they retired. They deal with large sums of money. They rub elbows with the rich and famous. They place themselves in a flattering public spotlight. They get together with their buddies—often former players—to live large for a little while and experience the camaraderie of the good old days, restoring vestiges of their former lives.
Challenges and Solutions
Former players consistently mention a set of common job-related challenges they encounter in moving beyond the NFL. Some are largely generational, but persist in present-day laments. Others seem timeless, testing young and old alike. The most vociferous complaints come from players who retired prior to the free agency era, who never made big money. Old-timers bemoan their meager pension checks, blaming both the NFL and the NFLPA for leaving them high and dry. Some of the inequities have been addressed by recent revisions of the pension program, putting more money in the pockets of NFL alumni across the board. Still, old-timers are never going to catch up with their younger peers. Some have already endured decades of hardship. While younger retirees have less to lament, they also know that their retirement plans aren’t as good as those in other sports, MLB, for example.
Younger alumni have somewhat different concerns. Across the board, they wish they had more guidance regarding life after football. Having spent most of their lives in the bubble—being treated as special and having things done for them prior to, and during college, and certainly in the pros—they feel they were walking into the wilderness when they walked out of the NFL. Suddenly, they were responsible for taking care of personal matters that others tended to before. Jamaal McDaniels, a veteran from the late 1980s, for example, observes that “A lot of these kids [current players] don’t have a clue. . . . You have to start early. You have to start getting into these kids’ minds a lot earlier, so they can get a jump on things.”44 He thinks aspiring players as well as those who make it to the NFL need to be forewarned about challenges along the way, and better prepared for the issues that emerge at the end.
McDaniels felt abandoned: “I didn’t have anybody to hold my hand and help me get a job, a good and decent job.” For some, mentoring or formal programming seem to be viable solutions. They regret not having more systematic opportunities to learn about financial, professional, occu
pational, and social challenges. George Koonce is one of them:
I didn’t really have the mentors. I didn’t really have the life coaches. I had [football] coaches in my life from nine years old until I turned 32, but they were coaching me to play a position. They were coaching me to strive to get better out there on the practice field and in the off season, but I didn’t have anyone really coaching me per se, giving a road map or playbook to be an athletic director or a VP of administration for an NFL team. I kind of had to learn all that by chance, or on the fly. I wanted to do it. I wanted to reach my potential, but I didn’t have anybody that took the time to show me.45
Times have changed since Koonce’s playing days. Players today receive a full menu of formal guidance through NFL and NFLPA programming. NFL Player Engagement and NFLPA programs address nearly every aspect of life in and after the NFL including transition advice, career building, financial training, coaching academies, and “boot camps” for broadcasting, entertainment industries, retail franchising, real estate, and capital investment.46 There’s even a budding service industry cropping up around the NFL aimed at helping players deal with life away from the field. Increasingly, we’re seeing the emergence of professional guides to escort players into the real world: “life coaches” or “transition coaches.” Ken Ruettgers, for example, played in the NFL in the 1980s and 1990s and prepared well for his days after football. In 2001 he started GamesOver.org as a resource to help athletes transition into retirement.47 In 2013, 11 former NFL players—including Troy Vincent—were trained and certified as transition coaches by the league.48 Several of the former players we interviewed expressed an interest in getting into this line of work, and a couple have already established web sites advertising their services.
Is There Life After Football? Page 21
