So, you’re asking the big questions: how many car dealerships does Nick Saban actually own? And why does this keep popping up in conversations that aren’t about football? I get it. It’s one of those weird, delightful rabbit holes we fall into when we’re bored on the internet.
Let’s start with the short answer: zero. As of right now, Nick Saban does not personally own a single car dealership. None. Zip. Nada. I know, I know—it feels like a letdown.
You’d think a man with seven national championships would have a whole lot of car lots, right? But nope. That’s not how the Saban empire works. He’s way more of a “cigarette boat and private jet” guy than a “floor mats and financing” guy.
Must Read
Wait, then why does everyone think he owns dealerships?
Because of the confusing world of college football NIL deals (Name, Image, and Likeness). You see, Alabama has a massive collective called “Yea Alabama” that partners with local car dealers. And when a car dealer gives a star quarterback a free truck, folks get confused.
People see a commercial with Saban grinning next to a Chevy Tahoe, and their brains scream: “He owns the whole lot!” No, friends. He’s just a very well-paid pitchman. Think of him as the world’s most intimidating car salesman who never actually sells you a car.
The “Saban Dealership” Rumor Mill
There’s a persistent myth that Saban owns a chain of Honda dealerships in his hometown of West Virginia. I wish this were true. It would make such a great origin story. “Local boy makes good, now owns 47 dealerships and a Lombardi Trophy.”
But the reality is boring. His brother, Nick Saban’s brother (also named… okay, his brother’s name is not Nick, it’s John), is actually involved in the automotive business. John Saban owned car dealerships in West Virginia for years. See? The mix-up writes itself.
It’s like the time everyone thought your friend’s dad owned a pizza joint, but he just worked there on Saturdays. Same last name, different slice of life.
Nick Saban group buys two Mercedes-Benz dealerships in $700M deal
So, does Nick Saban have a car collection?
Oh, absolutely. He’s not driving a 2002 Corolla. The man reportedly has a taste for Mercedes-Benz (he’s been a brand ambassador, too), a tricked-out pickup truck, and a classic muscle car or two. But that’s a personal garage, not a dealership.
Can you imagine Saban haggling with a customer over a used Camry? “You want a lower APR? Look me in the eye and say that again.” Terrifying. The customer would leave with more than they bargained for—maybe extra rust-proofing and a fear of God.
The “Saban Deal of the Day” Fantasy
Let’s play pretend for a second. If he did own a dealership, what would it be called? Saban’s Superior Autos. The slogan? “Process over price. Every car is a champion.” You walk in, and every salesman wears a polo shirt with a crimson “S.”
And the lot? It would be immaculate. No dents. No stains. Every car aligned perfectly. If a customer showed up late for a test drive, Saban would just stare at them until they apologized. Then buy the extended warranty.
But back to reality. The number is still zero. Unless you count the metaphorical “dealership” of young quarterbacks he’s sold to the NFL. Hey, that’s a different kind of lot—one where the inventory has 40-yard dash times.
Asbury completes $1.2 billion acquisition of Jim Koons dealership group
What about the other famous coach-dealers?
For comparison, let’s look at other coaches. Bill Belichick probably owns a fleet of hoodies but no dealerships. Dabo Swinney might own a few church pews and a lot of energy drinks. Urban Meyer? Let’s not go there.
The point is, Saban is focused. He’s too busy winning national titles and retiring (then un-retiring) to manage a lot full of F-150s. His energy goes to recruiting, scheming, and avoiding media questions about his blood pressure.
So, when your uncle says, “You know ol’ Nick owns like ten Honda dealerships, right?” you can now smile. Lean in. And say, “Actually, that’s his brother. But Saban did make a killer ad for Mercedes once.”
The final number, friend.
To wrap it up: Zero dealerships. One legendary career. A whole lot of rumors. But if you ever see a car lot with a giant statue of Saban pointing at a used minivan, run. That’s a fever dream, and he might try to sell you a 2015 Kia Soul with 200,000 miles and a crimson interior.
And honestly? You’d probably buy it. The man is that persuasive. Even without the inventory.