This week Montana joins former San Francisco 49ers teammates Ronnie Lott and Harris Barton as a general partner in Champion Ventures, an investment fund for professional athletes. Lott, the Hall of Fame defensive back, and Barton, a former lineman, started Champion last year and have now pooled money from 300 athletes, including Dan Marino, John Elway and Olympic sprinter Michael Johnson. And they’ve invested the money in 19 of the Valley’s best- known venture-capital firms. That’s the kind of exclusive placement that’s typically available only to the uber-connected, or to pension funds and university endowments. But Lott, Barton and Montana have capitalized on their roots in the Bay Area, meeting with top VCs and exchanging face time with their famous investors for access to the funds, which are risky but typically provide returns of more than 30 percent a year. Lest one conclude that this is merely rich people helping other rich people get richer, Montana & Co. take an altruistic view. Pro athletes, they say, have always been the victims of short careers and bad financial advice; Champion Ventures helps them save for the future. “I hate to see someone sacrifice their life to be in pro sports and then walk away with nothing,” Montana says.
For their part, venture capitalists love taking money from Champion Ventures. The athletes work with their budding start-ups, making personal appearances and giving pep talks to employees. But the VCs also get to live out the ultimate sports fan’s dream, palling around with their heroes. That dynamic was on full display this summer, when seven top VCs and their eager kids accompanied Lott and Barton to see the San Francisco Giants play the Cincinnati Reds. Before the game the group was led onto the field during batting practice, where slugger Barry Bonds–another Champion investor–signed autographs and posed for pictures. Gesturing to the brand-new ballpark and the players idling 10 feet away, Softbank Venture Capital exec Gary Rieschel said giddily, “At the end of the day, we’re all still kids.”
As a partner, Montana joins Lott and Barton in luring potential investors and courting VCs. One challenge is convincing agents and financial advisers to let their clients invest, since Champion pays no commission. So far, Montana says, his recruits have included Andre Agassi, and current quarterbacks Tim Couch and Peyton Manning. Recently, he led another group of VCs on a daylong trek to 49er training camp. And earlier this month, he visited a fiber-optics start-up in nearby Santa Rosa, giving a motivational speech to employees, and personally making a pitch to two engineers weighing whether to join the company. Both accepted, of course.
Super Joe’s increased involvement in Silicon Valley comes at a time when he’s trying to distance himself from the community that once hung on his every pass. Last June, Montana, his wife, Jennifer, and their four children moved up to the Napa ranch from Atherton, a wealthy suburb just a few miles from Sand Hill Road, the center of the VC universe. They were seeking a slower pace of life. But his kids are now bored stiff in the country, he says, and when he’s not riding horses, he spends much of his time on the phone or sending e-mail, helping to run the Champion Ventures offense. The irony is not lost on him. As we speak, he glances at his watch–typical VC behavior–proving that you can, after all, teach an old dog new tricks.
