It’s only nine in the morning on this late-July day, but Tom Ensign’s white dress shirt is already blotted with dark circles of perspiration. Mr. Ensign, president and chief executive of Provest Management Group, is standing on a football field under a blazing-hot sun, which still is rising in a cloudless blue sky. The pungent smell of earth and grass hangs languidly in the hot, thick air.
It’s only nine in the morning on this late-July day, but Tom Ensign’s white dress shirt is already blotted with dark circles of perspiration. Mr. Ensign, president and chief executive of Provest Management Group, is standing on a football field under a blazing-hot sun, which still is rising in a cloudless blue sky. The pungent smell of earth and grass hangs languidly in the hot, thick air.
Mr. Ensign, a financial planner based in Worthington, Ohio, is here to see his client Kyle Turley, a 6-foot-5-inch, 306-pound offensive tackle for the Kansas City Chiefs, at a preseason training camp at the University of Wisconsin’s River Falls campus, 40 miles east of Minneapolis.
Mr. Ensign is here to review Mr. Turley’s financial plan. They meet about four times a year and correspond by text messaging during the season. Mr. Ensign, a fee- and commission-based planner, wants an update of his clients’ real estate and music business investments, so he has asked Mr. Turley to start putting together an inventory of his assets.
The players, grouped by position, are grunting as they run through plays, slam into driving sleds and converge in a tangle of massive bodies. Coaches snarl at them, and cameramen, on the ground and high up in scissor jacks, record their every move. Eighty-eight players are on the field, but only 53 will be on the active roster. Mr. Turley was expected to be in the starting lineup when the season started this past weekend.
Professional football players are well paid, earning an average of $1.7 million a year, but they work in a dangerous and precarious profession. Mr. Turley has earned more than $18.5 million during his career, according to data collected on USA TODAY’s website. The average length of a National Football League player’s career is less than four years. Contracts are not guaranteed.
Cutthroat Competition
If a player is cut from the team, he doesn’t get paid. Competition is cutthroat. Injuries can be crippling. Earlier this year, reports that a growing number of retired players were suffering from brain damage and possible early onset of Alzheimer’s disease stemming from concussions suffered while playing rocked the sport.
“It’s unlike any other profession,” Mr. Ensign says. “Someone is always trying to take your job and being hired by the team to do just that.”
Mr. Turley, 32, is, in fact, fighting for a job.
He’s been in the league for 10 years and started for the New Orleans Saints and the St. Louis Rams. Mr. Turley probably is most famous for ripping off and throwing across the field the helmet of New York Jets defensive back Damien Robinson during a game in 2001 and after he thought Mr. Robinson took a cheap shot at Aaron Brooks, the Saints’ quarterback.
But Mr. Turley got injured in 2004, was cut by the Rams a year later and was out of the league for a year. He signed with the Chiefs in 2006 but reinjured himself during the season and was cut in March. He was re-signed last month for a one-year contract paying $720,000, the league’s minimum salary for a player with nine years in the league.
As Mr. Turley’s career winds down, Mr. Ensign wants to make sure his client’s assets are secure.
“We want to know what the client has and why, and then put it into our format,” Mr. Ensign says.
Provest’s objectives are making sure professional athletes have cash reserves to cover up to six months of income needs, accumulation of money for long-term goals such as their children’s college education, financial independence once their playing career is over, making sure funds are available in case they become sick or disabled and estate planning.“We want to establish an asset base that will throw off income that is equal to or greater than what they’re currently making,” he says.
Generous retirement plan
Mr. Ensign concedes that his job as a planner is made easier by the NFL’s generous pension plan: Players who have been in the league at least three years receive $470 per month times the number of years they were in the league. Payments begin at age 55 and continue for the rest of their lives. Players also have access to an annuity plan, and the NFL provides a two-for-one match in a player’s 401(k) plan. Mr. Ensign suggests that players he represents have 15% to 20% of their portfolio in cash, 60% to 70% in equities with a global emphasis and the rest in alternative investments such as real estate investment trusts.
The biggest challenges he faces when planning for athletes, he says, is “keeping leeches away from these guys” and trying to keep the athletes from spending more than they make.
“They can make a lot of money, but if they keep spending it, they can be broke by 40,” Mr. Ensign says.
The morning session is over by noon, and his shirt is now soaked with sweat. While the players shower, Herman Edwards holds a press conference for the beat reporters and HBO’s “Hard Knocks” crew, which is filming a reality show about the Chiefs camp.
“I like Kyle Turley,” the head coach says. “He’s a veteran football player that you can trust. That’s what a coach wants. He’s competing to be a starter, and he’s in a good position.”
Mr. Turley comes over on a bicycle to greet Mr. Ensign. The player’s thick arms are covered with tattoos, and he’s wearing camouflage shorts, a black T-shirt and baseball cap emblazoned with the word “Invitro.” Mr. Ensign says he’ll meet him at the student union for lunch.
“That’s cool, man,” Mr. Turley replies, and he rides away.
At a cafeteria set up in the student union, players have choices ranging from huge mounds of meat to low-fat yogurt.
Mr. Turley’s plate is filled with a generous serving of chicken, as well as a heaping pile of pulled-pork tacos. Mr. Ensign sits opposite him, puts a lined yellow tablet on the white tablecloth and pulls out a pen, taking notes as Mr. Turley fills him in.
Mr. Turley is extremely happy about his real estate holdings on the Bay of Dreams, near the southern tip of Mexico’s Baja California peninsula. He’s a partner in a high-end housing development, which, he is convinced, can’t miss.
Mr. Turley says he’s not comfortable investing in the stock market, and he was unhappy when previous advisers put the bulk of his money there.
“That’s not me, man,” he explains. “I’m not a numbers guy; I’m more of an artist. I love creating. I feel I have a good eye for real estate and can see the vision of what can be built.”
What’s more, he’s convinced that real estate is a sure thing.
“It’s as good as gold,” he declares. “If you buy in the right areas, it’s going to continue to grow. It’s never going to go down.”
The music business, he admits, is much riskier.
Based on the West Coast since attending school at San Diego State University, Mr. Turley became interested in the business while hanging out at a friend’s recording studio in Los Angeles.
He read “The Long Tail,” Chris Anderson’s book on marketing and distribution in the digital age, and became convinced that if done right, music could be a money-making proposition. Mr. Turley became a partner in Gridiron Records, and signed the hard-rock band Invitro to a contract. The group’s first album is due out next month, and the band is on a national tour to drum up attention.
Touring expenses, however, can run about $60,000 a month.
“It’s a fickle business,” Mr. Turley says wistfully. “It costs so much money.”
Whatever reservations about the venture Mr. Ensign may have, he doesn’t bring them up. He’s content, for now, to function as Mr. Turley’s planner and accepts his entrepreneurial fervor. Besides, as Mr. Ensign has mentioned earlier: “You want these guys to be more entrepreneurial.”
Mr. Ensign does suggest that Mr. Turley consider incorporating as a family limited liability company to limit his exposure, and Mr. Turley nods his head in agreement.
Lessons learned
Being a veteran who has sustained a near career-ending injury has given him a valuable perspective on financial planning, Mr. Turley says.
“I know I’m going to stop getting those checks,” he says. “I know my career could end tomorrow.”
His financial goal, Mr. Turley says, is to become a billionaire via real estate and a planned construction company, the record label and “other opportunities.”
“I want to hit it as hard as I can and see where it goes,” he says.
He sees his relationship with Mr. Ensign as critical. “You can only go so far on your own,” Mr. Turley says. “You need a good team around you. And you need an offensive coordinator — someone who can see the whole field for you.”
Nonetheless, Mr. Turley says, he would not advise an NFL rookie to get a financial adviser.
“I would say get your checks, put them in the bank, and watch those numbers go down as you spend. Learn how to deal with your money. When I was young, I was allotted an allowance, and you don’t see the big picture. You don’t see the numbers start going down, and one day, you say, ‘Holy crap, I just spent half a million dollars.’”
Mr. Ensign doesn’t argue. He’s seen young athletes lose millions of dollars gambling or not have enough money to buy furniture for their house.
As he plans to expand his business and move his affiliation to LPL Financial Services of Boston and San Diego, Mr. Ensign wants to build his firm’s roster of athlete clients from eight to 50 in the next three years, but he doesn’t plan to target rookies.
Instead, he suggests that prospective clients read Bob Buford’s book, “Halftime: Changing Your Game Plan from Success to Significance,” about approaching life as a football game and understanding that the end of one’s athletic career is actually the beginning of one’s transition to the next stage of professional life.
Mr. Ensign ends the meeting with Mr. Turley by discussing upcoming changes in the tax law and what he needs to review for a worksheet that lists his assets and verifies ownership of various businesses. Some of the work can be done on the Internet, and the rest can be completed when they meet in two months to finalize “a plan of action.”
Mr. Turley says he wants a plan that will allow him to grow and evolve.
“The money is just numbers. It doesn’t go with you when you die. All you take are experiences. I want to come into home plate cleats up and say, ‘It was a hell of a ride.’”
