PHOENIX -- More than 200 college students will get a chance to become instant millionaires when the NFL holds its draft this week.

But fast forward 20, 10 or just five years down the road, and many of this year's crop of NFL rookies, like players before them, could end up broke.

The financial rise and fall of professional athletes is one of those perplexing things that the other 99 percent just can't understand: How can anyone blow through at least several hundred thousand dollars, and perhaps tens of millions of dollars, in a few years? Yet many pro athletes have done just that. You could compile an all-star team of players who wound up bankrupt or in financial distress.

Though financial woes can beset all sorts of athletes -- skater Dorothy Hamill, baseball players Lenny Dykstra and Jack Clark, boxer Mike Tyson, pro golfer John Daly come to mind -- the condition seems acute among basketball and football stars.

Sports Illustrated estimated in 2009 that 78 percent of NFL players are bankrupt or facing serious financial stress within two years of ending their playing careers and that 60percent of NBA players are broke within five years of retiring from the game. A starting lineup of financial-distress examples could include Terrell Owens, Lawrence Taylor, Michael Vick, Deuce McAllister and Bernie Kosar in football, and Allen Iverson, Scottie Pippen, Latrell Sprewell and Antoine Walker in basketball.

The factors contributing to financial ruin are numerous. Most people receiving a sudden windfall would be tempted to spend a good chunk of it quickly. This tendency might be pronounced when there's a sense of entitlement -- these are star athletes who have heard how great they are all their lives, after all.

"When a 21-year-old kid gets such big numbers, they go out and buy the big house and the fancy car," said Robert Luna of SureVest Capital Management in Phoenix and the financial adviser to Arizona Cardinals offensive lineman Levi Brown. "Before they know it, they're out of the league and their income drops significantly."

Then there are the legions of hangers-on who flock to the rich and famous.

"All sorts of people and advisers started calling," said Brown, recalling what happened to him after being selected as the fifth overall pick in the 2007 NFL draft. "In any business where you make a lot of money, there are people trying to get their hands on it."

Not living within means

It's not just cars and houses, though. The big bucks also give athletes an opportunity to indulge in all sorts of passions, hobbies and ill-advised behaviors that can generate financial consequences later, from baseball slugger Jack Clark's extensive rare-car collection to NBA star Iverson's $860,000 tab for unpaid jewelry, interest, court costs and legal fees in a dispute with an Atlanta jewelry store.

Gambling and alcohol and drug addictions have been linked to money problems for others. So, too, have marriages and affairs that lead to child-support and alimony payments. An attorney representing Dennis Rodman recently told a judge that Rodman no longer could make child- and spousal-support payments, though the former NBA defensive star initially denied being broke.

The NFL conducts workshops for rookies covering topics such as substance abuse, sex education, gambling, domestic violence and personal finance, but their effectiveness is a matter for debate.

"They try to give you some background, and it's better than nothing," Brown said. "At least you know the statistics for what's ahead."

Many pro athletes may assume the money will keep flowing in for years, but that's usually not the case. The average pro football career is only 3 and one-half years, according to the NFL Players Association, and a lot of the money that makes the contract-signing headlines will never be paid.

"They could have cut him in the first year," said Luna, referring to Brown. "He could have collected very little."

In fact, Brown was cut by the Cardinals earlier this year, though he was re-signed by the team a few days later to a five-year, $30million contract, of which $8 million is guaranteed.

Even athletes who play professionally for many years will eventually need to downsize their finances. That makes them different from most workers, who generally can anticipate higher earnings over time.

"Unlike a young physician who will be making a lot more money 10, 20 or 30 years down the road, an athlete like Levi is getting it all up front," Luna said.

The wrong people

Athletes also are susceptible to hooking up with the wrong advisers and trusting them implicitly.

"Often, it's a high-school or college friend or somebody they knew early in their careers," said Richard Dozer, former president of the Arizona Diamondbacks who now serves as chairman of the Phoenix branch of GenSpring Family Offices, which includes some pro athletes as clients. "It's family and friends a large percentage of the time."

Many athletes act on referrals, sometimes from teammates, that turn out to be toxic. News reports indicate that several members of the Denver Broncos lost perhaps $20million combined through a scam, linked to a hedge-fund manager, in which players referred one another before the deal blew up.

"A player hears that his teammate has gotten great returns, so he wants to go with that guy, too," Dozer said.

Brown, the Cardinals lineman, relies on a team of advisers that includes an estate-planning attorney, an insurance expert and a certified public accountant.

"We're all independent advisers, so there are checks and balances," Luna said.

He noted that major scams, such as the one perpetrated by Bernie Madoff and which included Hall of Fame pitcher Sandy Koufax as an investor, could have been avoided or minimized with a separation of oversight and third-party custody of assets.

Many financial problems also can be skirted by exercising a healthy dose of skepticism. Athletes should be grilling prospective advisers about their fees and asking what could go wrong with an investment.

"If someone is promising 25percent annual returns for several years, ask yourself why everyone isn't doing this," Dozer said.

Although athletes may not want to reveal their lack of sophistication, it's important that they spend time interviewing prospective advisers and asking questions, even dumb ones. Do that enough, Dozer said, and they'll start to spot red flags.

Boring is good

Low financial literacy makes many athletes susceptible to getting scammed or suffering losses in high-risk investments. Young adults in general aren't experienced with money and often don't have good role models as savers, homeowners or investors.

Low financial literacy shows up in a poor understanding of how investments work, what constitutes realistic returns and reasonable fees, and how advisers are supposed to interact with clients. Athletes often delegate too much and oversee too little. Some entrust others not just to make the big financial moves but to pay routine bills.

Many athletes also gravitate toward tangible, glitzy business ventures such as restaurants, car dealerships, motion pictures or stakes in new inventions. Perhaps because they're accustomed to life in the fast lane, they often don't seem interested in passive and arguably boring investments such as stocks or bonds.

"It's a little more sexy to have a restaurant in downtown Scottsdale than a muni-bond fund," Luna said.

But restaurants and other business ventures frequently carry an elevated potential for failure and may require a time commitment that the athlete lacks. When a sports star's finances blow up, it's almost never because the player had too much invested in a stock-market index fund or a portfolio of municipal bonds.

Brown admits making a bad investment in a restaurant that failed. But he mainly holds stocks, bonds, mutual funds and other fairly mundane investments. He also said he takes personal interest in his portfolio, shares in financial decisions with his wife, Lynnette, and doesn't live beyond his means.

"The budget is the first step in figuring this out," Brown said, adding that his biggest financial fear is returning to his childhood lifestyle in Norfolk, Va., where his father served as a Marine. Although he credits his parents for doing well with what they had, he said the family at times lived paycheck to paycheck.

Brown also is working on a master's degree in industrial and labor relations at Pennsylvania State University, where he played football. While many pro athletes attend college, they don't all graduate, and lacking a degree can make the eventual transition back to mainstream life more difficult.

But a college education doesn't guarantee financial success. For athletes and others, some vital money lessons are learned the hard way.