| On The Cover.. |
Livin' the Dream
Former NFL Player Kory Minor Tackles the Pizza Business
Dreams are as individual as snowflakes. For some young boys making it to the NFL would be a dream come true. But for Kory Minor it was just the start of his dream to create a legacy. And as he says, ‘You can’t leave a legacy if you work for someone else.’
Kory Minor had his heart set on going to Notre Dame. He was only four at the time, but he watched the “Fighting Irish” dominate the gridiron on television every week and he told his mother and anyone else who’d listen that he was attending Notre Dame—even though he didn’t know in which state the legendary college was located.
Domino’s Pizza franchisee Kory Minor was fortunate to have the opportunity to be mentored by some of the best coaches in football. Now he‘s passing along that teamwork philosophy to the young workers on his team. |
“I’d tell him, ‘No, Honey, you’ll be going to Cal State,’” his mother Kim Minor says, laughing. As a single mother, raising a son and working full-time to make ends meet, Kim Minor wasn’t holding her breath that Notre Dame would come knocking at their door.
But just like in a fairy tale—or right out the pages of the best-selling “The Secret”— Notre Dame did come calling. And football was the reason.
Which is also kismet, because Kory Minor almost didn’t have a football career. He was small for his age and his mother was worried he’d get hurt. So instead of playing Pop Warner football like his friends, Minor was relegated to playing flag football—the no-tackle version of the tough-guy game.
Needless to say, he didn’t agree with his mother’s decision, but he played anyway, along with baseball, basketball and any sport that would keep him busy and out of trouble.
“Then one night he grew overnight,” Kim says. And his mom gave into his lament that he was too old to play flag football—because now he was also too big to play it. His newfound size was helped not only by his growth spurt, but also by his dedication to weight lifting in the gym. He was willing to work for what he wanted.
Minor was a natural. He excelled in high school and was named USA Today Defensive Player of the Year. That award brought Notre Dame courting, along with three other top schools. Minor and his mother arranged a trip back to see the university in January, which is not the best time to woo a Southern California kid to Indiana’s cold and snowy landscape.
A staff writer for blueandgold.com, the Notre Dame football team’s Web site, recalled the 1995 visit in a story he wrote in 2006. Minor was originally scheduled to visit during the “banquet weekend,” the first official recruiting weekend, when the weather is more cooperative. Because his high school team was still in the playoffs, Minor had to reschedule twice, ending up on campus the second weekend of January. The coaches’ game plan, the writer says, was to avoid the subject of weather altogether.
Minor says it was hard to ignore the weather. It was snowing and hailing. “I had seen snow, but not of this magnitude,” he says. But Coach Lou Holtz, who became not only his mentor, but the person he has patterned his business style after, and the other players beat out warmer climes.
When asked about his years at Notre Dame, Minor is nothing but positive, but his mother tells a different story. “As a freshman, Kory called me every day to come home,” she says. By his sophomore year, he was still calling, but the plaintive calls died down his junior year. Kim first told that story to Kory’s classmates after his final game as a senior—much to his chagrin.
That homesickness was in part because he had a close relationship with his mother, and in part because freezing temperatures are hard to adjust to after decades in sunny California. But Minor wasn’t oblivious to the opportunities he was being handed along with the scholarship. One such opportunity was playing four years in the NFL.
Moving on up
Minor, who started as a freshman and was captain by his senior year, never considered making football his career. He did, however, consider becoming a sports agent, until he decided it was more akin to being a “high-paid babysitter” than running a business. He graduated in three and a half years with a degree in marketing. And then he looked for his next opportunity—professional football.
![]() Kory Minor confesses that he’s a positive person, with a deep spiritual life. “I have two bad days a year. That’s all I allow myself,” he says. His enthusiasm is fueled by helping mentor young people. |
After playing hero at Notre Dame—one fan told his mother he respected Kory so much as a player he named his firstborn after him—it was tough to be a seventh-round NFL draft pick in 1999. “I was devastated,” Minor admits. “I didn’t overcome that as fast as I should have.” Minor says he may have shown up at the San Francisco 49ers camp with a chip on his shoulder. It took him a while to work through it, but the experience made him grow up. His takeaway: “It doesn’t matter how you got here, as long as you get here.” And when you’re there, “make the best of it.”
He was with the 49ers only three months before having to adjust to another team, the Carolina Panthers—a new team compared to the 49ers. The perks that he was just starting to enjoy as a 49er—free tickets to events, fan adoration—weren’t on the same level in North Carolina.
Minor discovered the part of playing football he enjoyed the most was off the field—the community service appearances the playersmade, such as working with the Boys and Girls Club. “I have a big heart for kids from single-parent homes,” he says. His grandfather did a good job of filling in as father until his mother remarried another good role model for him, but there’s still a sense of loss about the father who left.
The incident of the fan naming his son after him stuck with him, too. Being a role model was a role he could see himself in off the field as well as on it. Minor felt a sense of responsibility to the youngsters who were buying his jersey or shoes. “I may not have asked for it, but it comes with the territory, baby,” he enthuses.
Building a legacy was important to him. Which is how he became a Domino’s Pizza franchisee. “You can’t have a legacy if you work for someone else,” he points out.
A long career on the gridiron was never in Minor’s playbook. “I was in the NFL for four years, but I never believed that was my calling,” he says. “I never had any dreams about it. It was the means to find what I wanted to do.”
Which isn’t to say it wasn’t gratifying. “Playing at the highest level is rewarding, and the networking was phenomenal,” he says. “And you get to touch people’s lives you come into contact with.”
But running his own business was his dream. “I had internships during the off-season,” he explains.
The NFL does a good job of helping former players make a living once their playing days are over, such as selling insurance. But that wasn’t the career he envisioned.
One of the best things he did for himself while playing ball, he says, was to “get married and settle down with the one person who loves you for yourself.” Among the temptations thrown at players are eligible women anxious to spend their money.
Minor married his college sweetheart Lisa, and the couple moved back to sunny California.
For a while he was a rep for the E&J Gallo Winery—his division was headed by a fellow Notre Dame graduate. For three years he was a wine consultant, holding wine tastings and selling.
During that time he began investigating franchises. “I must have every FDD out there,” he quips. “My wife said, ‘you’ve reached the end of the Internet, there’s nothing else out there. You’ve got to do something.’”
Domino’s was the one franchise that he kept revisiting. The one drawback was that he didn’t want to spend an obligatory year and a half in the management program before getting his own store. When he was offered a chance to participate in the Fast-Track program, which cut the training time down to six to eight months, he jumped at it. He worked as a manager, while holding down his full-time job with Gallo.
Ironically, once he completed the training, there were no locations available and he ended up having to wait the entire year and a half anyway.
![]() Tossing the football; tossing the pizza dough. It’s all the same to Kory Minor, who decided to build his legacy off the football field. “You can’t have a legacy if you work for someone else,” the Domino’s franchisee says. |
“In August 2007, I got my first store,” he says. “I looked around and said, ‘What do I do now?’”
But Minor was a fast learner; not only did he get the store up and running, he now has five stores open (in two years).
Dennis Ryan, who owns two units, soon to be three, was one of the mentors Domino’s paired Minor with as a new franchisee.
Ryan says Minor’s strength is that he’s a people person. “He’s fun to be around,” he says. “If you’re having a bad day and need some picking up, you can count on him.”
And even though the majority of this particular story is about Minor’s football career, Ryan says it’s not a subject Minor launches on his own accord. “I prodded him about football,” he says. “He doesn’t always bring that up. He’s down to earth; doesn’t brag.”
Minor’s enthusiasm was one of the reasons Domino’s chose him to be the defender of the Western pizza toppings in the chain’s new television commercials. On behalf of the California-style chicken-bacon-ranch pizza, Minor goes pie-to-pie with a Memphis BBQ-loving franchisee.
“Kory did well at the trash-talking,” Ryan says. “Not mean, just fun.”
Minor agreed it was a fun experience—all 180 takes. “It was a long day,” he says. Fortunately his NFL experience had once again prepared him for business. He was one of the players who did the NFL highlight spots and commercials for AT&T and Fantasy Football.
In addition to being a role model to his own two children (and a third on the way), Minor wants to mentor his employees. He stays upbeat about the economy and about the direction the chain is going.
Motivating the trophy generation
Motivating young employees is tough, even for a former football star. But Minor was counseled by some of the best coaches available.
He uses positive reinforcement and saves the reprimands for behind closed doors. “It’s hands-on, coaching, even ministry at times,” he says.
One of the first questions he asks youth groups he speaks to is: “Who dreams?”
He worries about the kids who don’t raise their hands. “If you have no goals, nothing to aspire to” where are you going? he asks.
The same question is posed to his workers. “I ask them, ‘If you’re not here tomorrow, what do you want to do?” he says. “I don’t mind losing someone to go back to school.”
While he refers to himself as a “Domino’s lifer,” he knows not every employee will follow his dream.
Keeping employees motivated is a matter of understanding what they require to stay in the game—flex hours, contests with prizes.
“You have to know the person first, before you can motivate them,” he points out.
Employees aren’t the only people Minor has to keep motivated. “I’ve only been doing this two years and I haven’t seen the heyday yet,” he says. “But they’re coming.”
He’s positive about that. “I have two bad days a year,” Minor says. “That’s all I allow myself.”
What’s he learned in his short 32 years? “You gotta dream—outlandishly. And don’t let anyone tell you can’t have your dream.”





