Mark Cuban shares his wealth of experience and business savvy in his first published book, How to Win at the Sport of Business, available now only as an e-book. Using the greatest material from his popular Blog Maverick, he has collected and updated his postings on business and life to provide a catalog of insider knowledge on what it takes to become a thriving entrepreneur. Cuban tells his own rags-to-riches story of how he went from selling powdered milk and sleeping on friends’ couches to owning his own company and becoming a multi-billion dollar success story. His unconventional yet highly effective ideas on how to build a successful business offer entrepreneurs at any stage of their careers a huge edge over their competitors

Part One: Dream

I did it too. I would drive by big houses and wonder who lived there—every weekend I would do it. What did they do for a living? How did they make their money? Someday, I would tell myself, I would live in a house like that. I read books about successful people. In fact, I read every book or magazine I could get my hands on. I would tell myself that one good idea would pay for the book and could make the difference between me making it or not. (And hopefully this book will make the difference for you!)

I worked jobs I didn’t like. I worked jobs I loved but that had no chance of becoming a career. I worked jobs that barely paid the rent. I had so many jobs my parents wondered if I would ever be stable. Most of them aren’t on my résumé anymore because I was there so short a time or they were so stupid I was embarrassed. You don’t want to write about selling powdered milk or selling franchises for TV repair shops. In every job, I would justify it in my mind, whether I loved it or hated it, that I was getting paid to learn and every experience would be of value when I figured out what I wanted to do when I grew up.

If I ever grew up, I hoped to run my own business. It’s exactly what I told myself every day. In reality, I had as much doubt as confidence. I was just hoping the confidence would win over the doubt and it would all work out for the best.

We all want our dream job or to run our own companies. The truth? It’s a lot easier said than done. We need jobs that pay the bills, and we can’t wait out the search for the perfect situation. Which leads to the question: What kind of job should you settle for when you can’t or don’t have the job you want?

Not everyone’s situation is going to be the same, but for the recent graduate, or if you find yourself in a job you don’t like, or if you are unemployed, the answer is pretty straightforward (at least I thought it was when I graduated college). You continue your education.

Go back to school? No. Get your MBA? No.

For most recent college grads, you just spent the last four or so years paying tuition to get an education. Now that you have graduated, it’s your chance to get paid to learn. And what if you aren’t a recent college grad? The same logic applies. It is time to get paid to learn.

When I graduated from Indiana University, I certainly didn’t dream of working for a bank. I wanted a job where I could learn more about computers. So I took a job working for Mellon Bank in Pittsburgh. I helped on systems conversions. Taking old manual systems at small banks and helping them convert to automated systems. I wasn’t that good at it. The job was fun for the first couple months because I worked with a lot of fun people. A lot of fun people that liked to hang out and drink after work.

But as the months wore on, I liked it less and less, and I had to remind myself, more and more, exactly why I was there. I was getting paid to learn about how computers work, how big companies work and how middle managers work—that was a whole lot better than paying tuition to get a business education.

I lasted all of nine months at that job. I lasted about eight months at my next job, working for a company called Tronics 2000. At Tronics 2000, our mission was to try franchise the TV repair industry. The company was supposed to be entrepreneurial. It was supposed to be looking into franchising the computer repair business as well. (They had me write an analysis of the opportunity in my off-time). As it turns out, it basically was none of the above. But I got paid my $1500 per month and I learned a whole lot.

The company sold a total of one franchise. Which I sold. Again, I was far from a great employee. I spent too much time having fun at the expense of doing my job to the best of my ability. Going to work hung over once a week isn’t a good career move. So, in some respects I cheated them. No excuses on my part.

The job was also frustrating. Calling and calling and calling on TV repair shops trying to explain the value of franchising wasn’t easy. But I learned how to cold-call. I learned not to be afraid of going through the phone book and making calls.

I also got to talk to an old industry veteran, Larry Menaugh. Larry wrote the very first service contracts in the television industry. He was a wise old vet. We didn’t talk much about the company or the industry, but after meetings we would talk about how to get the job done. He would give me honest critiques of things I was doing, and coming from Larry, I knew they were right. I wish I could go back and thank him. I tried to look him up a few years ago, but couldn’t find him. If you read this Larry, thank you.

As I said, I lasted in that job about nine months, and from there took off to Dallas, Texas, in search of fun, sun, money and women.

I was 23. I had no money. The ’77 Fiat I was driving drank oil faster than I could drink beer and had a huge hole in the floorboard. I was going to stay on the floor of some friends who had moved from IU to a huge apartment complex called The Village in Dallas.

I had no idea what the future would bring. I was unemployed and heading to Dallas with zero job prospects. But I knew I had taken a few classes in real-world business and got paid for it instead of paying tuition, and I had every intention of continuing to do the same thing until things worked out. When I got to Dallas, I drove up to the address my friend Greg Schipper had given me. I don’t think he expected me to move in. It wasn’t like I had many living options. In fact, since he was the only person I knew in town, crashing at his apartment was my only option.

Shippy lived in a three-bedroom apartment with four other friends in Dallas. I became roommate number six. This wasn’t a really nice place we all kicked in to move up for. This place has since been torn down—probably condemned. I didn’t have my own bedroom. I slept on the couch or floor, depending on what time I got home. I had no closet. Instead, I had a pile that everyone knew was mine. My car still had the its hole in the floorboard and that ’77 Fiat X1/9 continued to burn a quart of oil that I couldn’t afford, week after week.

To make matters worse, because I was living on happy hour food. Any bar that offered free food in exchange for buying 2 beers was my favorite nightly dining establishment. It was cheap in dollars, but heavy in calories. You know all the jokes about the fat kid at the buffet? That was me. I probably gained 30 pounds in a year.

My confidence wasn’t exactly at an all-time high, but I was having fun. Don’t get me wrong—I truly was having a blast. Great friends, great city, great energy, pretty girls. OK, the pretty girls had no interest in my fat and growing ass at the time, but that’s another story …

I was motivated to do something I loved, I just wasn’t sure what it was. I made a list of all the different jobs I would love to do. (I still have it.) The problem was that I wasn’t qualified for any of them. But I needed to pay the bills.

I finally got a job working as a bartender at a club. It was a start, but it wasn’t a career. I had to keep on looking during the day.

About a week later I answered a want ad in the newspaper for someone to sell PC software at the first software retail store in Dallas. The ad was actually placed by an employment agency. The fee was to be paid by the company, so I gave it a shot.

I put on my interview face and, of course, my interview suit, which just happened to be one of the two polyester suits that I had bought for a grand total of $99. Thank God for “two-fer, two-fer, two-fer Madness” at the local men’s clothing store. Gray pinstripe. Blue pinstripe. Didn’t matter if it rained, those drops just rolled down the back of those suits. I could crumple them, they bounced right back. Polyester—the miracle fabric.

I wish I could say the blue suit and my interview skills impressed the employment agency enough to set up the interview with the software store. In reality, not many had applied for the job and the agency wanted the fee so they would have sent anyone over to interview. I didn’t care.

I pulled out the gray suit for my interview at Your Business Software. I was fired up. It was my shot to get into the computer business, one of the industries I had put on my list! I remember the interview well. Michael Humecki, the Prez, and Doug (don’t remember his last name), his partner, double-teamed me. Michael did most of the talking to start. He asked me if I had used PC software before. My total PC experience at the time was on the long forgotten TI-99A that had cost me $79. I used it to try to teach myself BASIC while recovering from hangovers and sleeping on the floor while my roommates were at work. Michael and Doug weren’t impressed.

I was pulling out every interview trick I knew. I went through the spiel about how I was a good salesperson (you know, the part of the interview where you are basically begging for a job), using code phrases like “I care about the customer,” “I promise to work really, really hard” and “I will do whatever it takes to be successful.” Unfortunately, I was getting that Well, if no one else applies for the job, then maybe look from Michael.

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