Eat at the pro's
Something smells good -- and believe it or not, it's coming from an athlete's kitchen
Eat At The Pros
This story appears in the August 10 issue of ESPN The Magazine.
If you asked Jack Dempsey about what it took for athletes to make it in the restaurant biz back when he owned one of the swankiest joints in Manhattan, He probably would have shrugged. Dempsey's place on Broadway was known for steaks as bloody as his KOs. But mostly fans loved it because the great fighter himself was the No. 1 customer, always around and available to scribble an autograph. And that's probably about as much high-concept thinking as he gave to running his chophouse, pallie.
These days, epicurean jocks have upped the ante, moving beyond Dempsey's simple formula to bravely venture into every aspect of the culinary world. Their ranks include owners like Tony Hawk, whose chic bistro, Market, in the ritzy San Diego suburb of Del Mar, is a magnet for locals looking for some of the city's best shrimp tempura; chefs like Amos Zereoue, who traded in football cleats for an apron at his West African restaurant in New York; and figureheads like Albert Pujols, who puts his handle on and his hardware in Pujols 5 in St. Louis. "He doesn't tell us about cooking, and we don't tell him about batting," says co-owner David Hanon.
Not far from where Dempsey once greeted his guests, Michael Jordan's The Steak House charges $78 for a slab of meat as big as his size 13 kicks. Meanwhile, MJ's fellow baller and kitchen devotee Charles Oakley has Red, an elegant South Beach hot spot. And in tiny Olive Branch, Miss., John Daly's Restaurant and Bar serves up grilled ahi tuna brushed with a soy ginger glaze. (And you thought Long John dined only at Hooters.)
So what's with all the jock-restaurateurs? By our tally, some 200 athletes are in the business. And that's not even counting the dozens more who have franchised everything from wings to coffee. Many of the players are in the second act of their lives, but just as many are moonlighting in their prime, and their reasons for choosing this smoky path are as varied as their menus.
With the right chef, the right look and the right mood, a restaurant can turn out to be a shrewd investment. The industry did $558 billion in revenues last year, according to the National Restaurant Association. Compare that to the NFL: The country's most profitable sports league generated a paltry $6.5 billion. Some jocks go gourmand to satisfy their inner foodie, while others see restaurants as an excuse to build shrines to themselves. (Those moldy jerseys have to hang somewhere.) Still others are happy just to have a place where they will be taken care of. "I don't have to wait for a table anymore," quips Hawk, who partnered with renowned chef Carl Schroeder to design their California-Asian fusion menu. "Plus, I get approached in my own place less than anywhere else. Our customers come for Carl as much as for me."
Be it steak house or diner, seafood or ribs, each venture has one thing in common: Everyone involved recognizes the value of being associated with a jock.
Today's athlete-restaurateurs owe a debt to James "Gentleman Jim" Corbett, the heavyweight champ who was the first sports star to successfully play the food-services game. Around the turn of the last century, he opened a New York City cafe, then filled the place -- and his pockets -- after his impromptu brawl there with Chicago Orphans pitcher Frank Chance became the talk of the town. Gentleman Jim learned a cardinal rule of business firsthand: Get buzz, any way you can.
After Corbett came Dempsey, who kept his Times Square place up and running from 1935 until 1974 (just long enough for it to make a cameo in The Godfather). And the rest of the roster of early athlete-owned eateries is Hall of Fame quality, too. Stan Musial opened the übersuccessful St. Louis steak house Stan & Biggie's in 1949 with local legend Julius "Biggie" Garagnani. Sugar Ray Robinson had one of the most glamorous nightspots in Harlem in the '50s, Sugar Ray's. Johnny Unitas served old-fashioned steak and seafood dishes in Baltimore at the Golden Arm from 1968 to 1988.
Getty ImagesMichael Jordan, seen here at the opening of his Michael Jordan's Restaurant in 1993, knows eats almost as well as he does basketball.Check out a local Zagat's guide and you'll find athletes still believe there's profit in protein. John Elway, Mike Ditka, Don Shula and Brett Favre all have eponymous chophouses, and they know fans will pay top dollar not just to eat like superstars, but to catch a glimmer of that world. Where else can you peep one of Pujols' Silver Slugger bats or check out the cleats Elway wore in the '98 Super Bowl? And because these restaurants offer the allure of being on the right side of the velvet ropes, athletes often put themselves on display along with their merch -- at least some of the time.
Pujols heads 20 minutes west of Busch Stadium to eat at his Maryland Heights place when he's not on the road. Junior Seau hosts charity events at his self-named downtown San Diego landmark, where the dining room is decorated with a 30-foot-high mural of the scowling linebacker looking as if he were ready to dismember anyone asking for more bread. And Jamal Crawford happily watches big games at Sport, a Seattle bar and grill he opened with three jock partners, among others, in 2005. "I wanted to have a sports bar I'd feel good in," says the Golden State guard. He's proud of decisions he's made to class up the place, particularly putting Kobe beef in the burgers. Why not offer the best? "At my place," Crawford says, "fans are family."
Not that every star athlete will treat you as well as your mom or display the skills of a maître d'. Some All-Stars who give their all before millions of fans aren't interested in giving the same effort for random tables of two. Dwyane Wade needed only a few months to decide he had better places to be than the Fort Lauderdale and Boca Raton sports grills that bore his name. But after they were shuttered in 2008, his partners sued him for not fulfilling his promotional obligations. (Wade declined comment through a spokesperson.)
Fact is, not every sports star has gotten rich in the gourmet game. Pete Rose, Clyde Drexler, Brett Hull and Jermaine O'Neal all quickly ended their stints in the restaurant biz. Roger Clemens thought he had a sure thing when he announced a chain of Rocket Sports Grills in Houston, in 2005. Next thing he knew, he was buried in steroids headlines and watching his sideline get buried too. Marketing disasters aside, it's a wonder any sports hero wants to try his hand at hospitality, what with the potential for bad reviews, floods in the kitchen, missed shipments and those pesky customers. "It's a tough business," says Yankee sandman Mariano Rivera, who swears by the pork osso buco at Mo's New York Grill, a lush dining room located just a few miles north of Yankee Stadium. "You have to be around every day or the business won't grow."
His fellow hurler, Brewers starter Jeff Suppan (page 54), agrees. "If you're doing it just to sit at the bar for an hour, it's probably not a good idea," says Suppan, who is known to spend 40-hour weeks in the off-season at Soup's Sports Grill in Woodland Hills, Calif. "Call me weird, but I just love working at the restaurant. It's like a second home to me."
The trick to success, whether Dempsey knew it or not, is making others feel as if it's theirs, too.
Shaun Assael is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine.
This story contains special reporting by Reed Tucker and Amanda Angel.



