I love buying sneakers and then leaving them on the ice for months just waiting for the perfect occasion and outfit. I have a stash of black Bo Jackson jerseys and want to pair them with Latrell Sprewell Knicks jerseys. You may be wondering how these two things go together, but I don’t like coordinating colors that look too matching. I prefer complementary accents. I wanted a white Sprewell jersey because his number “8” is black and has black accents on the side that will pop when paired with black sneakers. I would never wear white, orange and blue Bo Jackson shoes with a white, orange and blue Knicks jersey. Anyone can do this.
In early 2001, my friend Mike E and I went shopping in New York, and of course we went to the NBA store on Fifth Avenue in the city center. I found my Sprewell and stood in front of the checkout line when some unfamiliar jerseys caught my eye. I knew the players and the teams, but I had not seen their uniform styles before because they were from the 1960s and 1970s. I saw a Bill Russell jersey for the Celtics, an Elgin Baylor jersey for the Lakers, and an Oscar Robertson jersey for the Bucks. The name “Hardwood Classic” is written on the label.
I liked the feel and detail and thought the jerseys were cool, so I bought the Baylor and Robertson jerseys for nearly four hundred dollars each. I like Russell’s Celtics jersey, but it feels a little too plain for me. I know exactly what I want to do with other people. I want to buy a pair of Timberlands to match Oscar Robertson. I wore Elgin Baylor with a navy blue Polo parka from the Polo store in Philadelphia.
Lakers star LeBron James and agent Rich Paul, founder of Klutch Sports, bonded early in their careers. Paul’s memoir ends with their first meeting and features a foreword written by James.
(Jerritt Clark/Getty Images for Klutch Sports G)
When I went back home and went to the club wearing these jerseys, the reaction was extraordinary. Everyone keeps asking, “Where did you get that?” I need one of these! ” Before you could easily buy clothes on the internet, you had to go to a real-life store to buy anything.
I have a small makeshift office at home with a computer. I searched online for “Hardwood Classics” and a store in Atlanta called “Distant Replays” came up. I called the store and the owner, Andy Hyman, answered the phone.
Andy and I were talking about the jerseys he stocks, and I got excited when he mentioned all the football and baseball leagues that aren’t on his site: Tony Gwynn’s Padres, Pete Rose’s )’s Reds, Randall Cunningham’s Eagles, and even a few. Even though I consider myself a sports historian, all of which I watched growing up, I never listened to Said these names. I bought three jerseys on that first call, for a total cost of about a thousand dollars, including overnight shipping. The next week I spent another thousand dollars, and the week after that another thousand dollars. I did this for about eight weeks straight. Everyone in Cleveland was into polo, so when I started showing up wearing Jim Browns and Hank Aarons, it was a huge buzz. I wore each jersey once – they were one piece, done – and then piled them in my closet.
About two months later, I called Andy and said, “I want to invest in your business.”
“Really?” he said. “If you’re serious, come to Atlanta and let’s talk.”
Andy is a cool guy, a middle-aged white entrepreneur who started Remote Replay in a kiosk at Greenbriar Mall. Andy sold their jerseys when OutKast wore Steve Bartkoski of the Rainbow Astros and Falcons in video and photo shoots. . We chatted and Andy told me that he couldn’t let me invest, but if I worked in his store one weekend a month, he would give me 40% off all purchases. I agreed and shook his hand before he changed his mind. Andy was able to give me a 10% discount, which was a good deal for me. I started flying to Atlanta once a month and staying at a Marriott Residence Inn not far from Remote Replay Street.
I’d worked in my dad’s corner store my whole life, so working for Andy was just a layup. I operate the credit card machine, operate the cash register, and work with customers on the floor. The store sells all kinds of sportswear in addition to jerseys – this was the South, before hip-hop fashion was fully mainstream, so you might have a white father and son who didn’t look cool in jerseys but wanted T-shirts and hats. Andy showed me how big the market was for all the other sporting goods. At the end of every weekend, I pick jerseys out of the trash. They cost three hundred bucks in the store; Andy sold them to me for one-sixtieth of the price. I flew home with about twenty or thirty jerseys and sold them for the price on the label: three hundred, sometimes four hundred or forty or fifty. They came straight out of the trunk of my Toyota Camry.
Agent Rich Paul, founder of Klutch Sports, and his girlfriend Adele attended the NBA playoffs at Crypto.com Arena last season.
(Wally Scully/Los Angeles Times)
Man, those jerseys sold better than regular jerseys. A big part of their value comes from the fact that I’m the one selling them. My reputation was tied to the product, allowing it to skyrocket. People say, “Why should I go to the mall and maybe pay a higher price when I can get something from Rich?” Also, I advise people on what to buy. I used a lot of my old sports knowledge and brought back all the facts from all the late night games I watched alone or on the floor of Grandma Johnny May’s house as a kid. I also explain to customers how authentic jerseys with letters and numbers sewn on have higher quality, durability, and historical significance than replica jerseys with ironed-on letters and numbers. I would park my car at a park or a dice game and boom – five jerseys sold. I met Cleveland Browns linebacker Corey Fuller at a dice game, and when he saw what I was wearing, he asked me to pull up to his house in Westlake. I’ve bought two or three jerseys. CC Sabathia bought some in his early days with the Indians. I have all these people. It got to the point where I would be in a random parking lot and customers would come directly to me. Removing the jerseys from the trunk of my car wasn’t nearly as dangerous as removing the drugs—and it didn’t tug at my conscience. This makes me feel free.
That “get out of the trunk” mentality still inspires me today, and it doesn’t just come from selling jerseys. It’s about seizing every tiny opportunity, putting in extra effort, and doing whatever it takes to improve your status. Phil Knight started out in a Nike suitcase, carrying boxes of sneakers and racks of clothes. “Getting Out of the Trunk” forces you to interact with people, develop communication skills, and understand the value of time. All my hustle brings me into direct contact with people—I call this personal contact business face-to-face contact—
Unarmed combat. There’s something special about hand-to-hand combat that teaches you a whole set of skills that can’t be quantified in a test. I’ve learned a lot more from being in a box than I would have been if I was born with a billionaire grandfather.
Andy was amazed at how much I moved, so he asked to come to Cleveland and see it for himself. The day before he arrived, I went around every neighborhood and told my people, “If you see me with a white man, he’s not a cop, he’s my business partner – just buy what I have That’s it.” We popped the hood all over and the jersey flew out of the trunk and Andy was blown away. After that, I bought so many products that Andy had to put me in touch with his contact, Peter Capolino, who founded Mitchell & Ness in Philadelphia. That company had the NBA license to manufacture the jerseys and sell them to Andy.
In the spring of 2001, I had just bought a pair of Adidas shoes from a store called Walton’s, white low-top shoes with three red suede stripes and a strap just above the ankle. In my mind, I put them together with the sky blue Warren Moon Houston Oilers throwback jersey because Moon has a red outline around his number “1”. I was heading to Atlanta soon, and on the day of the flight, I assembled the combo and headed to the airport.
My guy D Hodge booked the tickets. For some reason, I scheduled a flight out of the Akron airport instead of the Cleveland airport. Yes, Not Bad.
I was waiting to board a plane when several tall young men approached me. The kid in the front is wearing a Falcons Mike Vick jersey, but it’s a replica with a big ironed-on “7” on the front. “What jersey is that?” Vickery’s kid asked me.
“This is an authentic Warren Moon jersey from the Oilers. I have a ton of these if you need them and I’m on call most of the time 24/7/365. Here’s my business card, look for it Rich will be fine, no problem. So what’s your name?
I reached out my hand. He gave me a pound. “What’s up, Richie,” he said. “I’m LeBron.”
Excerpted from “Lucky Me” by Rich Paul and Jesse Washington. Copyright © 2023 Rich Paul. Excerpted with permission from Roc Lit 101. all rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without written permission from the publisher.