Lin’s Agent Is Riding High (圖)

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After Backing a Dark Horse, Lin’s Agent Is Riding High
By NEIL JANOWITZ
Published: March 9, 2012
Of all the manifestations of Linsanity — the deployment of endless puns, the resolution of the MSG-Time Warner impasse that blacked out Jeremy Lin’s games, the array of Lin jerseys on Spike Lee’s person — one of the most telling might have been the sight of a man laughing inside a pharmacy near San Antonio last week.
Roger Montgomery, Lin’s agent, was at the checkout counter when he noticed the cover of the March 5 issue of People magazine. In the top corner, to the left of the bride-to-be Elizabeth Smart and above the new homeowner Adele, was a photo of his client. The headline read: “Jeremy Lin’s Amazing Story.”
Montgomery could not stifle his amusement. “The cashier was looking at me,” he said this week, recounting the incident. “Like, what’s wrong with this dude?”
Little did she know. Two months ago, the Texas-based Montgomery Sports Group had only a few clients. One of them had a steady N.B.A. gig. Two others were playing basketball in Europe. The fourth was Lin, who had played for three teams in December alone. At that time the idea of a Montgomery client being on the cover of People would have been laughable indeed, as unlikely as every other detail in the story Montgomery and Lin have shared since that point.
A dozen years ago, Montgomery was a 30-year-old former N.A.I.A. basketball star who had played overseas, eager to stay connected to the game. He was given a shot by a start-up agency in Dallas called Momentum Sports Group, and despite having neither clients nor experience, found himself lobbying the family of Desmond Mason, an Oklahoma State star from the Dallas area.
The would-be agent impressed them with his passion, and when Mason was selected with the 17th pick of the first round of the 2000 draft by the Seattle SuperSonics, Montgomery was on the map.
By the time Lin came to his attention in 2009, Montgomery had departed from Momentum and struck out on his own. N.B.A. clients had come and gone during that time — Mason, for example, retired in 2009 — leaving Montgomery relying largely on his longest-tenured player, the Washington Wizards’ Maurice Evans, who had gone undrafted in 2001 before willing himself into a nine-year career.
Going it alone was not easy; Montgomery, who is married with three children, confessed to doubts along the way. But he kept at it, taking notes, constantly looking for players he might realistically be able to reach out to. And on Dec. 6, 2009, when Lin, a senior at Harvard, put up 30 points in a near-upset of 13th-ranked Connecticut, Montgomery was quick to respond.
“Right away, I liked his game,” he said. “I thought, ‘I’ve got to get him.’ ” Lin was an ideal candidate for the Montgomery Sports Group — a player with a big ceiling and a small likelihood of attracting larger agencies, who are not likely to dwell on Ivy Leaguers.
“Often, I don’t bother going after top prospects,” said Montgomery, who until recently was his firm’s lone full-time employee, with an office in suburban San Antonio. “I aim for guys who are similar to me: they haven’t been given much in their careers and they’re supermotivated to prove themselves.”
For Montgomery, the overtures to Lin began with an introductory package of material sent to Harvard Coach Tommy Amaker, who passed it along to Lin’s family. Telephone interviews gave way to Skype talks; Montgomery even asked Evans to get on the phone to provide a candid take on life in the Montgomery Sports Group family.
“Roger told me this was a special player,” Evans said, “and said, ‘Be honest with him.’ ” Montgomery then met Lin for the first time in April 2010 at the Portsmouth Invitational in Virginia, an annual gathering of N.B.A. prospects. Soon after, he received a commitment from Lin.
It is an agent’s job to be ambitious, bordering on delusional. Leading up to the 2010 draft, Montgomery was holding out hope that Lin might sneak into the first round. The worst-case scenario, he figured, was that the Knicks, who needed a point guard not named Chris Duhon, would select him with one of their two second-round picks.
“After his private predraft workout, Jeremy said Coach D’Antoni called him into his office and told him he saw some Steve Nash-type qualities in him,” Montgomery said of Knicks Coach Mike D’Antoni. “We thought he was a perfect fit for the system.”
But on draft night, as he sat at home in San Antonio texting with Lin, Montgomery watched the Knicks use those second-round picks on Landry Fields, a shooting guard, and the since-jettisoned guard Andy Rautins.
“I was devastated,” Montgomery said. “There were sleepless nights. When you’re a boutique agency, you have to get it right.”
Indeed, for agents with only one or two clients — with income derived from fees of up to 4 percent they receive on player contracts and up to 20 percent on endorsement deals — it is a continual struggle to prove credibility to recruits and avoid having clients poached by larger firms. Boutique agents have to compensate for a lack of visibility and clout with resourcefulness, attentiveness and savvy scouting.
“I focus on under-the-radar guys, and I learn everything about them — talent, character, work ethic,” said Mike Naiditch, an agent based in Chicago who represents the Boston Celtics’ Greg Stiemsma and Lin’s Knicks teammate Bill Walker, who is sidelined with an elbow injury.
But the problem when dealing with the overlooked is that that type of player may never get a chance to wake up. Like many boutique agents, Naiditch trades in bubble players, guys fighting for spots on the bench rather than in the starting five.
Which was exactly the position that Lin found himself in after being passed over in the draft. To boost his stock, he headed to Las Vegas for the N.B.A. summer league and earned notice while playing for the Dallas Mavericks’ squad. That led to a two-year deal that Montgomery negotiated with Golden State.
Warriors General Manager Larry Riley said Montgomery “did right by Jeremy” by insisting on some guaranteed money in the deal rather than settling for a “make-good contract” without such money, an arrangement other teams might have offered.
Still, the Bay Area marriage did not last. Lin played sparingly during the 2010-11 season and was waived on the first day of training camp after the lockout. The Houston Rockets picked up his contract, but cut him 12 days later, on Christmas Eve. The Knicks called the next day.
The rookie Iman Shumpert had strained his knee in their season opener on Christmas and the team needed a replacement who could run the point if needed.
“When I saw the 212 on my phone,” Montgomery said, “I thought: Here we go. Let’s see what happens.”
Montgomery has not looked at his February phone bill yet. No need. He knows it is “off the charts.” Linsanity had a slower start than many people remember — Lin saw limited action with the Knicks for more than a month before he suddenly started taking over games — but once it took hold, Lin became one of the more marketable figures in the United States, and beyond.
That left Montgomery and his new team — he has hired two full-time staff members, one to work on marketing and player relations, the other to be an administrative assistant — with the enviable task of sifting through the pitches cascading their way. They are taking their time, talking to Nike about a revised deal for Lin, trying to fend off unsolicited advice. And withstanding the criticism from those who think Montgomery is doing Lin a disservice by not getting his name on several dotted lines right now.
“I’ve been hearing that we should strike while the iron is hot, as though Jeremy’s a one-hit wonder,” Montgomery said. “People don’t know what we should do, but they’re on TV pretending they do.”
So he is blocking it out, even as Linsanity has quieted down for now as the Knicks and Lin have found it harder to sustain their initial run.
Montgomery has two businesses to build— his client’s and his own — and that does not leave much time for engaging talking heads or reading any of Lin’s press clippings or even wondering what is ailing the Knicks at the moment. Back in the pharmacy, Montgomery did not buy that copy of People, or even flip through it. There was not much point. “It’s not as interesting to read a story,” he says, “when you’re living it.”