Still in the Game (cont.)

That wasn’t the only hurdle; Starbucks didn’t do franchises. Undaunted, Johnson met with Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz, who was intrigued with the idea, but first wanted to see one of Johnson’s other projects. “I took him to the theater in south L.A. to see Waiting to Exhale with Whitney Houston,” Johnson laughs. Schultz was impressed by the sold-out crowd of women, who insisted on giving Houston’s character advice. Magic Johnson Enterprises and Starbucks forged a joint-venture partnership in Urban Coffee Opportunities for the aforementioned coffee shops. “Starbucks has been the most successful financially,” Johnson says. “And it’s been the most gratifying, because people said Starbucks wouldn’t work in urban America.”

THE OLD PRO

Roger Staubach

Roger Staubach, 66, jokes that you know you’re old when you wear the hat of executive chairman and you have your own dog, but the Hall of Fame quarterback isn’t quite ready to throw in the towel. Staubach first worked as a backup QB for the Dallas Cowboys in 1969. In 2008 he traded his CEO title for that of executive chairman of the Americas, having sold his eponymous commercial real estate firm to financial giant Jones Lang LaSalle for $618 million. Now he heads up the company’s strategic division and sits on the board.

Staubach says he didn’t set out to build a real estate empire. He was only looking to provide for his wife and children: “I was making decent money with the Cowboys. But they didn’t pay quarterbacks what they pay today.”

He took a job selling insurance for the Dallas-based Henry S. Miller Company during his first offseason in 1970, then moved over to the company’s real estate division the following year. “My first deal was an apartment building in Tyler, Texas,” he recalls. The buyer of the building, a tough customer, was amused to see the football player show up as a prospective agent. “My name did initially help me get my foot in the door with clients,” says Staubach. But after the allure wore off, his celebrity wasn’t always an asset. “Clients needed to be reassured that I was serious about doing deals.”

Staubach continued to work in commercial real estate even after he stepped up to starting quarterback and led the Cowboys in 1972 to their first Super Bowl victory. “When we won the Super Bowl, I got a telegram from Mr. Miller saying, ‘Congratulations on beating the Dolphins, and by the way, you’ve been promoted,’” says Staubach. “I couldn’t quit after that.”

Quit he didn’t. In 1977, Staubach saw a need for a real estate firm that exclusively represented buyers and tenants. He partnered with another Miller employee, Robert Holloway Jr., to form Holloway Staubach with the goal of focusing on “users’” real estate needs. Staubach retired from the NFL in 1980. In 1982, he and Holloway had a “friendly split,” and the Staubach Company was born. Twenty-five years later, the Dallasbased company had grown into a real estate powerhouse with 70 offices, 1,600 employees, and real estate transactions totaling $28 billion.

Staubach counts himself as fortunate for having to work in the offseason. “Many pro athletes today make enough money that working in the offseason is not necessary,” he says. But consider this: The average salary for an NFL player exceeds $1 million, but the average career lasts only 3.8 years. “If you play three or four years and make $1 million total,” says the NFL’s Mike Haynes, “you’re not going to have a lot left to live on for the rest of your life unless you do some serious downsizing.”

But money—even big money—isn’t everything. “Life after football can be difficult if you don’t have some preparation,” says Staubach, whose company has taken in many NFL “interns” to give them a taste for the business. “For these guys, it may not be about the money, but it might be about keeping the competitive juices flowing.”

JOHNSON DIDN’T HAVE the same pressure to moonlight. Salaries were bigger, and endorsements were getting bigger still. While basketball made him rich, though, it wasn’t going to create lasting wealth. Not only is Johnson worth many times more than he was during his playing days, he’s positioning the Magic Johnson brand to live on long after he retires. Not that he plans to quit anytime soon. “I keep working as if I don’t have all this,” says Johnson, sitting in his newly decorated office.

The tight-knit group of 30 employees in Magic Johnson Enterprise’s corporate headquarters calls him “Mr. Johnson,” but the formalities end there. Except when he travels for work, he can be found in the office Monday through Friday, eats lunch with his employees in the conference room, and obsesses about everything from big-picture company decisions to popcorn sales in one of his theaters. He equates his CEO role to that of a point guard in basketball. That player needs “court vision,” seeing the game as if from the nosebleed seats, while focusing on the action at hand. “I’ll pass you the ball,” Johnson says, flashing his 1,000-watt smile. “But you better score.”

In her last story for Spirit, Sarah Max took us on a behind-the-scenes tour of Cirque du Soleil in Las Vegas. She lives in Bend, Oregon.

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