Nice work If You Can Get It …

0 Comments | Insight on the News, Feb 5, 2001 | by Patrick Hruby

Professional athletes are paid multimillion-dollar salaries, but they hardly need them with all the perks that come with the sporting life.

Like paying taxes and the right to a recount, it's one of the fundamental axioms of modern life: Most people not named Giorgio must pay for their Armani clothing. Alex Rodriguez, however, is not like most people. Thanks to a special agreement with the renowned clothing designer, the millionaire Texas Rangers shortstop can walk into any Armani store and choose whatever he likes -- free of charge. So can Pat Riley, coach of the Miami Heat.

They're not alone. Each and every season, Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher Kevin Brown is entitled to a dozen complementary rides on a Fox Corp. corporate jet. Seattle SuperSonics guard Gary Payton has a free Key Arena luxury suite, right next to the owner's box. Arizona Diamondbacks pitcher Randy Johnson gets a pair of free front-row Phoenix Suns season tickets for the next 10 years, as well as a reserved space in the players' parking lot.

If the rich are different from you and me, then rich sports stars are different still. Forget the money -- even Rodriguez's recent 10-year, $252 million contract. The truth is that many athletes and coaches hardly need it. Not when the sports world provides a movable feast of freebies, an inexhaustible cookie jar of perks and amenities into which all hands perpetually dip.

It's the Dallas Mavericks bunking at the Ritz-Carlton (unless they're staying at the Four Seasons). It's Rangers catcher Ivan Rodriguez setting up shop in his personal office space at the Ball park in Arlington. It's Florida State football coach Bobby Bowden noshing on a contractually obligated lifetime supply of Golden Flakes potato chips.

"The best perks? There's a lot of them," says Bob Bryan, a professional tennis player. "The money's great, you get so much free clothes, hotels are awesome and you get free food. In Indianapolis [at the RCA Championships], they give you a free stereo and a camcorder. It's a great lifestyle. I'd rather be doing this than working in an office."

Just ask Renaldo Nehemiah. Now the director of worldwide track and field at Octagon Athlete Representation, the former world-record holder in the 110-meter hurdles managed Olympic gold medalist Michael Johnson from 1998 to 1999 and found sponsors and meet organizers exceedingly generous. "The sporting world is full of graciousness and people who want to do things for you," Nehemiah says. "With Michael, we would fly first class, have a la carte dining instead of a buffet table, have a private car at our disposal. Two years ago, we were guests of the U.S. ambassador to Sweden. We went to his residence, went out to dinner with him and his wife. The following day, he took us out on his private yacht for a three-hour excursion. It was nice."

Such are the perks of sports superstardom. Like National Basketball Association (NBA) All-Stars who always get the calls, marquee names across the board enjoy separate -- and decidedly unequal -- treatment. In the San Francisco clubhouse at Pacific Bell Park, Giants outfielder Barry Bonds holds court over four lockers and a $3,000 black leather massage recliner. The rest of the team gets single lockers and standard-issue metal folding chairs. On the road, Baltimore Orioles shortstop Cal Ripken stays in a different hotel than his teammates. Former Los Angeles Galaxy goalkeeper Jorge Campos signed a contract with Major League Soccer that entitled him to a pair of cars -- one of them a Ferrari.

Of course, this doesn't mean that rank-and-file athletes have it bad or that they can't coattail on the amenities afforded their better-known brethren. As a rising tide lifts all boats, rising perks lifts all jocks. After selecting LaVar Arrington and Chris Samuels with the second and third picks in this year's National Football League (NFL) draft, Redskins owner Dan Snyder shuttled them from New York City to Washington Dulles International Airport on his private jet, then from Dulles to Redskin Park in a helicopter. Two months later, Mavericks owner Mark Cuban flew his first three draftees home from the National Basketball Association (NBA) draft in Minneapolis on his own private jet. Consider it a form of trickle-down economics -- only without the trillion-dollar deficits.

"It's just the way sports is -- whatever one team does to raise the bar, others follow," says Orlando Magic General Manager (GM) John Gabriel. "The demands are greater, and the level of service is rising."

True enough. From the NBA to the National Hockey League (NHL), first-class amenities have become standard -- catered food; free gear; four-star hotels; chartered flights and private jets; and luxurious, high-tech practice facilities and clubhouses. In Orlando, the Magic even employ a dedicated "player-services coordinator," an executive whose sole duty is catering to player needs, be they housing, banking or dry cleaning.

For some, such as tennis player Kristian Capalik, the top-notch treatment can be a bit overwhelming. A 21-year-old ranked No. 240 in the world, Capalik enjoyed a fleeting taste of the good life after qualifying for the main draw of last summer's Legg Mason Tennis Classic. "It's the greatest feeling in the world," he says. "You've got a car picking you up and driving you to hotels. In futures [minor-league] tournaments, you have to take a taxi."