This Agent’s Cut Is That He’s a Cut Above All the Rest

When you’re talking about sports agents, a compliment might be something like, “He’s not in jail.” Or, “Some of his clients have decided not to sue him.”

It has not been an altogether happy chapter of sports history, this era of the agent, covering the last decade or so. For every honest, effective agent there seems to be a sewer full of fugitives, bunglers, scoundrels and sleazebags. You’ve heard the horror stories. Athletes tell ‘em like war stories.

Agents are necessary. Without agents, athletes would have to go back to the old system of blowing their money themselves. And there is so much money in big time sports now that blowing it all would be too time consuming.

Are there any good agents? I think so. I hope so. Not a lot, certainly. The term good agent seems almost a contradiction in terms, like good used car.

There are a few I suspect of being good agents, and I will use one here as an example of those who are performing worthwhile services for their clients and maybe to the world in general.

His name is Leigh Steinberg. You’ve heard of him. He is the agent with the gimmick. He only takes on athletes who cheerfully agree to donate portions of their incomes to charity. A field goal kicker kicks in $100 for every field goal to a cancer fund, that type of thing. Many set up scholarship funds at their old high schools or colleges.

Steve Young, a San Francisco 49ers quarterback, explained the Steinberg system at a recent March of Dimes banquet-roast.

“Here’s a guy who has made his reputation by giving his clients’ money away to charity,” Young said.

Dozens of Steinberg’s clients showed up for the affair, none of them with subpoenas. Most of the things they said about Steinberg were too sappy and affectionate to be repeated here.

I have expressed reservations about Steinberg’s system because Leigh is so eager to talk about his clients’ donations. It’s sort of like the old Graig Nettles line about Reggie Jackson: “He’d give you the shirt off his back, then call a press conference to tell about it.”

Steinberg’s reasoning is that if a lot of other agents and athletes hear about this charity concept, and notice that fans think it’s nice, they might be inspired to try it. In that case, whether the motive might be human kindness or tax-sheltering, the result would be the same--a lot of money flowing from rich athletes to handicapped kids and such.

Maybe it’s working. For example, Clipper forward Michael Cage, acting on an idea by Jack Gallagher, Clipper public relations director, is donating $5 a rebound to the Big Brothers of Greater Los Angeles. Angel pitcher Kirk McCaskill has announced that he will donate $20 per strikeout to a foundation that combats hunger in Orange County.

Boring stuff? Hey, if we have to hear about all the stupid things players and agents do with their truckloads of money, we might as well hear from the other side occasionally.

Steinberg is one of the weird characters of sport. He has a fancy car that his clients chipped in to buy him because they were embarrassed by his clunky ’72 Pinto. But he still drives the Pinto, and unless he decides to clean out the rubble one of these years, it will make an interesting time capsule. Leigh’s wardrobe is what casually might be called casual. He reads several books a week and is a substance abuser--hot-air popcorn and snuff, though not at the same time.

He and his two attorney associates have 100 clients, including 18 National Football League quarterbacks, an L.A. phenom-to-be in Gaston Green, an National Basketball Assn. star, Byron Scott, and a figure skater, Brian Boitano.

Steinberg’s clients do not hold out while under contract. There have been no college payoff scandals. In nearly 20 years, if any of Steinberg’s clients have gone away mad, they have done so quietly.

Some agents provide limited service. Steinberg is a 24-hour dial-a-pal. Dr. Ruth probably fields fewer phone calls. I once eavesdropped as Steinberg spent two hours on the phone, soothing a rookie NFL quarterback who wanted to leave training camp. The rookie stayed and is now a superstar.

Talking about the charity program, Steinberg has said: “We’re all responsible in some way for the shape the world is in.”

Can Steinberg help it if he grew up in the ‘60s and went to radical Cal, soaking up the cornball idealism and social consciousness of the time? He probably still puts bricks in the water tank of his toilet.

Everyone, however, doesn’t love Leigh. Several years ago, a rival agent caught Steinberg spreading apparently untrue rumors. The agent brought this to Steinberg’s attention. A contrite Steinberg apologized and asked forgiveness. The agent granted same and promised to let the incident die. It would be their secret.

Not long ago the agent wrote a book and devoted an entire chapter to the indiscretion.

So Steinberg isn’t perfect. And he isn’t the world’s only scrupulous and competent agent, but he’ll serve as an example for today’s lesson, which is that there is some good stuff happening in the business side of sports.

As one of Steinberg’s players said at the roast: “He has helped our lives by using our notoriety to help the world.”

You’ve got to admit, it’s a pretty cute gimmick.