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    There’s a British Open Winner Coaching High School Golf in Ohio

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    All of the noise is gone now. There is no entourage, no hubbub, no fuss. Instead of yukking it up with David Letterman, as he did 20 years ago this month, Ben Curtis is spending the morning teaching southeast of Cleveland and steeling himself for the roughly 750-mile drive to South Carolina for a family vacation.This kind of understated Friday morning is very much how Curtis likes his life two decades after he made his major tournament debut at the British Open — and won. His victory at Royal St. George’s was an international sensation: He went from being the world’s 396th-ranked player, the one who had spent part of tournament week sightseeing in London with his fiancée, to being the first golfer in 90 years to win a major title on his first try.He never captured another. Sporadic successes followed — ties for second at a P.G.A. Championship and a Players Championship, a spot on a Ryder Cup-winning team, a few other PGA Tour victories — but never the major-winning magic. He last played a tour event in 2017, finishing with career earnings of more than $13.7 million.Today, he coaches his son’s golf team at Theodore Roosevelt High School in Kent, Ohio, and teaches at a golf academy that bears his name. On Thursday, the Open will begin at Royal Liverpool. He could play in it, but he’d rather not.This interview has been edited for length and clarity.Curtis celebrating with the claret jug after his victory in the British Open at Royal St. George’s in 2003.Andrew Parsons/PA Wire, via Associated PressLet’s start in 2003. After the first round, you were five shots off the lead. After the second, three. After the third, two. When did you start to think you could win?Saturday, I remember struggling the first nine holes, and then something — I don’t know if I just calmed down, maybe thought it’s over, I don’t know — happened. I shot three under on that back nine, and it just boosted my confidence. When we went to bed that night, I was like, “I’m going to win this thing.” I told Candace that, and she kind of went quiet until the next day.The back nine on Sunday wasn’t as smooth as Saturday’s. Was it the course or the pressure?Probably the pressure more than anything.The first nine continued what I was doing on Saturday. In any tournament, but a major especially, it’s hard to play really consistent for 27 holes without having some kind of hiccup. In the back of my mind, I kept telling myself, “It’s tough for everybody.”Ever watched the round?Twice.Twice in 20 years?We were at a friend’s house, woke up and he had the Golf Channel on since it was Open week. And so we sat there and watched it a little bit, and the kids slowly came down and we watched it. And then that kind of spurred it on to, “Hey, let’s take the time since the kids were older.”When I was playing, I never wanted to watch it because I was stubborn and wanted to concentrate on the future. Now I look at it though, and it’s like, “What were we wearing?”A few days after you won, you told The Times: “It won’t change me. It won’t change who I am.” Did it?I’m sure it did. But personality-wise or things like that, I would hope not.Did it change how you approached golf?I wasn’t used to the limelight, and so it was just difficult to go practice, to go find that quiet place where I could get work done. You try to schedule your day and you tried to have it down to within a few minutes, but if you’re trying to have a two- or three-hour practice session and it ends up being six and you’ve only practiced for two, it wears on you.People are coming up and you’re getting distracted — and not in a mean way, by any stretch — but then you realize you’re putting less and less time into the practice because of that. So that’s what was difficult, or even just going out to eat, and it made me realize I never wanted to be like that — like, I would never want to be in Tiger Woods’s shoes.I’d want to come in under the radar. I wanted to win every week, of course. Everyone does.I’ve heard you felt pressure to prove that the Open hadn’t been a fluke.Definitely. Especially when you’re young and you win early, there’s that pressure of you’ve got to do it again to prove your worth, I guess.Where does that pressure comes from? From within yourself? The media? The galleries?It’s a combination of everything. Luckily, social media wasn’t a huge deal back then. But I did feel it internally. I remember practicing and getting ready at the end of 2005, and my college coach just went: Screw this. Just be you. Don’t try to be somebody that you’re not, because you’re trying to emulate what the top players in the world are doing, and, well, maybe that’s not for you.That was probably the first time I had heard that in years.Curtis talked about his stunning victory in the British Open with David Letterman.Jeffrey R. Staab/CBS, via Getty ImagesJust go back to being Ben Curtis?Just go back to being me. That refocused me a little bit. I think it showed in the play that year, winning twice.You coach high schoolers now. What do you tell them about pressure?They’re worried about breaking 80 or 90, not winning majors. But to them, that’s a big deal. I remember the first time you break 80, the first time you break 70 and how big of an accomplishment that is. So that’s their major.I always tell them you can’t force it. It’s just going to happen. You work hard, and it’s just going to fall in there.You can only control yourself and your emotions and try to treat every shot like it’s the first shot. And 99.9 percent of the rounds do not go the way you want them because usually it’s derailed within the first shot or hole.Brooks Koepka says he thinks he can win 10 majors. Did you ever let a specific number like that enter your head?No, but I always dreamed of winning another one and had a couple of opportunities.Winning a major put you in the history books. Would your career have been easier if you hadn’t won so early?Probably, but it wouldn’t be as cool of a story. Like, if I had won two other events and then won a major and then kind of disappeared?Is there such a thing as winning a major too early?It’s not so much the winning the one too early, but maybe the way Koepka did it and winning a lot within a couple of years. Now, all of a sudden, you think you should win every week.And the hardest thing — and I fell into that trap, too — was trying to gear up your game just for the majors. If you just do that alone, if you’re not playing good going into it, what difference does it make if you don’t have the confidence? Confidence is the biggest thing.Curtis with his wife, Candace, in New York in 2003, shortly before they were married.Ozier Muhammad/The New York TimesI was talking to Max Homa recently, and he said he had realized he didn’t prepare for the majors how he prepared for everything else and that maybe he should smile more and laugh more.It’s true. When I won at the Open, we got there early just to get adjusted to the time change. I played on Saturday and Sunday, and then on Monday, Candace and I went into London and were these American tourists.Then I came back and played 18 on Tuesday and nine on Wednesday. But you can overdo it, and I think what Max is saying is if you treat it like any other event, you’ll be fine.It’s so hard to do. But every time I’ve won or came close, it was just, let’s go play golf. You play free.Wyndham Clark is going to Royal Liverpool as a first-time major champion. What’s your advice for him?Enjoy the moment, and don’t be afraid to say no. Try to stick to your routine. And the biggest thing is just expectations: Don’t expect to win. Just go out there and try to enjoy the moment. Just like Max said, laugh, have some fun. If you make the cut and have a chance to win, great. If not, you’re still the U.S. Open champ, and no one is ever going to take that away.You’ve played two Opens at Royal Liverpool. What do you make of it?It’s a really good golf course. I wouldn’t say it was my favorite.Would Royal St. George’s be the favorite?It’s up there, but I love Birkdale, just the look of it, the feel of the place. And obviously St. Andrews is special, but they’re all great. I hated Troon the first time just because I played badly.You can play the Open until you’re 60. Why not play it?One, I don’t want to put the work in. And, two, I’m not going to show up just to shoot a pair of 78s, 79s. It’s not fair to the other guys. You’re basically taking a spot away from a kid at a qualifier or somebody who is trying to play for the first time.I know what it takes to play well. I can go out here and play OK. But when you play 10 times a year, it’s a totally different thing.You last played a tour event in 2017. Was it hard to walk away, or was it liberating?A little bit of both. I think I could have a couple of years earlier and just kept hanging on and playing like crap, to put it frankly. Once I did, it was great.“When I teach, it’s not always about X’s and O’s and hitting it to this spot or in this swing plane or whatever,” Curtis said.Daniel Lozada for The New York TimesWhen did you recognize that you didn’t want that chaotic tour life anymore?When the kids got to school age. When they were young and you could take them with you, it was great. Then they went to school and their schedule is limited, and you’re traveling and playing in these tournaments, and you’re alone.I never played a huge amount, but when you’re used to having them out for about 20, 22 events a year and suddenly it’s only for six or seven, and now you’re out there for 20, 22 events on your own, it becomes tough. It doesn’t matter how nice the resort is. Every hotel room, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a Ritz-Carlton or a Courtyard Marriott, it’s a rectangle room with a bathroom in it. And it’s tough on the family at home, too, because they want me home.A lot of retired golfers live in beachfront towns in Florida. You chose Ohio. Why?If you’re in Jupiter, you’re among your peers. Up here, we’re alone. The people are great, down to earth, and we wanted that for our kids. It’s just who we are and where we’re at. This is home.When you left the tour, did you think you wanted to coach high schoolers?No.Think you wanted to run an academy?It took some time. For the rest of 2017, I was thinking about what I wanted to do, and that’s when the academy came about. Ohio has a rich history of golf, and it seems like all of the greats come through here at some point in their careers. You look at Jack Nicklaus, growing up in Ohio, and Arnold Palmer lived in Cleveland for a while.I just started reflecting on how I grew up, and I was thinking, “Who around here is going to help these kids navigate the dreams that I had?” I had to rely on my parents, and then luckily I went to a college where the coach was super involved.When I teach, it’s not always about X’s and O’s and hitting it to this spot or in this swing plane or whatever. I have these good kids, and they want to swing it like Koepka. I’m like, “Listen, swing it like you. What your swing looks like now is not going to be what it looks like when you’re 25.”What persuaded you to coach the high school team?My son was on the team, and the coach decided to retire. I got a call from the athletic director and I was like, “Well, who do you have in mind?” And they were like, “You, and that’s it.”I asked them to take a couple of days and try to find someone. I didn’t want to put that pressure on my son, but he was like, “coach, Dad, coach.”What errors are you seeing that weren’t really a thing when you were learning to play?Kids are more worried about their swing technique and the way it looks than how it performs. As long as you shoot a 72 on the scorecard, it doesn’t matter how you shoot 72. It’s a good score! Just worry about that.Twenty years ago, you said that if you hadn’t been playing the Open, you “probably” would have been watching the tournament on TV. Will you be watching this time?It’s funny: It’s been seven years since I played, but I wake up now and realize it’s almost over. You totally forget. You get up and start doing your stuff, and it’s 2 o’clock and you think you’ll see what the golf is — and then it’s over.The first three years were like that, and I totally missed it. Now, I’ll watch it, and I enjoy it. More

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      4-2 Game Rekindles Shot Clock Debate in High School Basketball

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      One of the two teams from Oklahoma, the Anadarko High School Warriors, passed the ball around for nearly the entire game in what an announcer called “stall ball.”Something strange happened during a recent high school basketball game in Oklahoma.The home team, the Weatherford High School Eagles, controlled the tip-off and immediately missed a three-pointer. Then the visiting Anadarko High School Warriors grabbed the rebound and slowed the game down — way, way down.For nearly the entire game, Anadarko played “stall ball” — passing the ball back and forth in the backcourt as the seconds dripped by like molasses, fans shouted scattered boos and the cheerleaders gamely stuck to their routines on the sidelines.The final score, after four eight-minute quarters, looked nothing like the high-scoring games that have defined the N.B.A. this season: Weatherford beat Anadarko, 4-2.The absurdly low score has renewed debate about whether high school basketball needs a shot clock to keep the game moving.Seventeen states and the District of Columbia use shot clocks in some or all high school games, and two more plan to use them starting next season. Oklahoma rejected them last month, citing the cost of the clocks, among other factors.After the Anadarko-Weatherford game last Tuesday, some are questioning whether that was the right move.“What are we doing here in Oklahoma?” Bryan Keating, the sports director at KOCO-TV in Oklahoma City, wrote on Twitter. “We have to play with a shot clock. The players deserve a whole lot better than this.”The game tested the patience not only of the fans who packed into Weatherford’s gymnasium but also the local television announcer, Chuck Ramsey, who repeated the names of the Anadarko players as they tossed the ball around in what he called a game of “keep away.”“Not the best friend of a play-by-play announcer on this type of offense,” Mr. Ramsey said.The game underscored one of the reasons the National Federation of State High School Associations, the governing body for most high school sports, voted last year to allow states to use a 35-second shot clock.Proponents say the clock, by forcing the offense to try to score within a certain period of time, prevents teams from sitting on the ball to kill time, especially if they have a lead with only a few minutes left in the fourth quarter.“It changes end-of-the-game situations,” said Joe Ortiz, who has won four state championships as head coach of the boys’ basketball team at ThunderRidge High School in Highlands Ranch, Colo. “People holding ball like that — that’s not the current game of basketball. It doesn’t make sense.”It once did.Before the N.B.A. adopted a 24-second shot clock in 1954, the league was plagued by slow, low-scoring games. In 1950, the Fort Wayne Pistons beat the Minneapolis Lakers 19-18 in the lowest-scoring league game on record. Fans were not impressed.After several years of experimentation, the N.C.A.A. adopted a 45-second clock in 1985, pushed in part by a 1978 Sun Belt Conference championship game that ended with a score of 22-20. The N.C.A.A. cut the shot clock to 30 seconds in 2015.“The shot clock was about making the game more exciting for spectators,” said Pamela Grundy, an independent historian and co-author of “Shattering The Glass: The Remarkable History of Women’s Basketball.”But thrilling fans is not always a priority in high school sports.Grant Gower, assistant director of the Oklahoma Secondary School Activities Association, which oversees high school sports in the state, said the board voted 8-7 last month against the use of shot clocks in basketball.He said that board members cited the cost of the clocks, the expense of paying someone to operate them and the training for referees to enforce the time limit. Prices vary, but a set of two clocks can cost between $2,000 and $11,000, he said.“I know it will be addressed again and not in response to the 4-to-2 game but in terms of what the schools want to do,” Mr. Gower said, adding that the low score “sure brings an awareness of situations like this that are completely within the rules of the game.”Some have speculated that Anadarko’s coach, Doug Schumpert, a member of the Oklahoma Coaches Association Hall of Fame, was merely deploying an old-school “freeze the ball” strategy to keep his ninth-ranked team close to third-ranked Weatherford. Indeed, Anadarko almost won with a three-pointer at the buzzer.Mr. Schumpert did not respond to an email seeking comment.Derrick Bull, Weatherford’s coach, faced questions about why the Eagles had not tried to trap the ball and force turnovers. He did not respond to an email, but he pointed out in an interview with WWLS, a local radio station, that his team never trailed after going up 2-0 in the second quarter.“Once we got the lead, we were pretty content to let them do what they were going to do because we were confident that if they were ever able to tie it, we could go down and execute and score,” Mr. Bull said. “Even though we didn’t have the ball, we felt like we were in control of the game, as long as we had the lead.”Mr. Bull told WWLS that he was “never too much for, or too much against” the shot clock.Playing without one can give lesser teams a “fighting chance,” he said, but having one “improves quality of play” and makes it “more entertaining” for players and fans, he said.“I was definitely for the shot clock last night, I will put it that way,” he said. More

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      Shai Gilgeous-Alexander Brings His Friends on Ride to NBA Stardom

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      Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, the Oklahoma City Thunder guard, is having a career season as one of the N.B.A.’s top scorers. He’s had a little help from his childhood friends.Mark Daigneault thought he had his first day in Hamilton, Ontario, all mapped out: Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, the star guard he coaches on the Oklahoma City Thunder, would make his morning rounds to shoot hoops and lift weights, and Daigneault would ride along.There was only one problem.“I don’t have room in my car,” Gilgeous-Alexander told him, “because I pick up all my friends.”Sure enough, once Daigneault hopped out of his Uber at Gilgeous-Alexander’s preferred gym in nearby Burlington, Daigneault found him working on his shooting as several young men in matching Thunder T-shirts rebounded for him.Gilgeous-Alexander soon introduced Daigneault to his “super close homies,” five childhood friends whose coordinated outfits that morning were no coincidence. They knew Daigneault was in town.“We wanted to make a good impression,” said Sunday Kong, a former high school teammate.In Oklahoma City, Gilgeous-Alexander, 24, has established himself as one of the N.B.A.’s most dynamic players. On a young team with promise, he ranks among the league leaders in scoring, averaging a career-best 31.4 points a game, while shooting 50.5 percent from the field — supercharged numbers that hint at his abilities as a 6-foot-6 guard who can absorb contact at the rim and create space on the perimeter.Gilgeous-Alexander is averaging a career-best 31.4 points per game while making about half of his shots. That puts him among the N.B.A.’s elite scorers.Garett Fisbeck/Associated PressBack home in Hamilton, a small city about 40 miles southwest of Toronto, five of Gilgeous-Alexander’s pals — a crew that also includes Mark Castillanes and Maurice Montoya, two of his best friends since elementary school, and Vincent Chu, who sat next to him in ninth-grade homeroom — practically fall off their couches whenever he crosses up a defender.“Anytime I see him do something on the court, I’m like, ‘Hey, we practiced that!’ ” said Devanté Campbell, who played youth soccer with Gilgeous-Alexander.Gilgeous-Alexander is always trying to improve, said Daigneault, now in his third season as the Thunder’s coach. That makes him an ideal fit for Oklahoma City — the same place where a young Russell Westbrook became a triple-double machine, Kevin Durant honed his perimeter game and James Harden crafted his step-back jumper. Each summer, Gilgeous-Alexander devises his own to-do list.“Shai’s got every resource available to him,” Daigneault said. “If he wanted to hire a staff and move to Hawaii in the off-season, he could do it. Instead, he parks himself in Hamilton and works with friends who have been in his life forever.”In Gilgeous-Alexander’s self-styled basketball lab, where a sneaker salesman and a restaurant manager throw defensive traps at him, and a college student and an aspiring doctor feed him passes, he prepares for his future by returning to his past.“Those guys give me a sense of home,” Gilgeous-Alexander said. “They give me back a piece of myself that feels like so long ago.”‘I’ve got to get better’Before he was getting buckets at Madison Square Garden and walking the runways at fashion week in Paris, Gilgeous-Alexander was someone else: the new kid at Regina Mundi Catholic Elementary School.After moving to Hamilton from Toronto when he was 11, Gilgeous-Alexander met Montoya and Castillanes on his first day of sixth grade. Castillanes recalled showing him around.“Kind of quiet,” Castillanes said. “But once you got to know him, he became himself.”Gilgeous-Alexander impressed on the basketball court, Castillanes said, by being able to dribble and make layups with both hands. But as an undersized ninth-grader at St. Thomas More Catholic Secondary School, Gilgeous-Alexander was cut from the equivalent of the junior varsity and wound up on a team of other freshmen.“I wasn’t hurt by it,” he said. “It was more a feeling of, I’m not good enough, so I’ve got to get better.”From left, Sunday Kong, Maurice Montoya, Vincent Chu and Devanté Campbell on the outdoor court at Sir Allan MacNab Secondary School, Gilgeous-Alexander’s former high school in Hamilton, Ontario.Cole Burston for The New York TimesIn his spare time, Gilgeous-Alexander would hoop with Montoya and Castillanes at their Filipino basketball league — the start of a basketball odyssey. Gilgeous-Alexander spent his sophomore year at Sir Allan MacNab Secondary School on Hamilton’s west side before he transferred again, this time to Hamilton Heights Christian Academy in Chattanooga, Tenn., as he sought better competition.Gilgeous-Alexander eventually landed at the University of Kentucky, where John Calipari, the team’s coach, knew he needed to be tough on him. Otherwise, Calipari was going to hear about it — from Gilgeous-Alexander’s mother, Charmaine Gilgeous, a former Olympic runner for Antigua and Barbuda.“When he played well, she would call me and say, ‘Don’t you let up on him,’” Calipari said.Gilgeous-Alexander had arrived at Kentucky with a hitch in his jump shot — Calipari compared it to Charles Barkley’s herky-jerky golf swing — and spent the early weeks of the season mostly coming off the bench. By the middle of January, he was blossoming as a starter. By June, he was the 11th overall pick in the 2018 N.B.A. draft, headed to the Los Angeles Clippers.Gilgeous-Alexander played so well as a rookie that the Thunder put him on their wish list. That summer, when the All-Star Paul George wanted to be traded to the Clippers from Oklahoma City, the Thunder insisted that Gilgeous-Alexander be included in the deal.Now in his fourth season with the Thunder, Gilgeous-Alexander is the face of a franchise that should come equipped with training wheels. Although Chet Holmgren, the No. 2 overall pick in the 2022 draft, is out for the season with a foot injury, the Thunder have a core that includes Josh Giddey, 20, and Luguentz Dort, 23. Even amid his emergence, Gilgeous-Alexander has never sought to separate himself from his teammates.“I might have sworn at Lu before,” Gilgeous-Alexander said, “but me and Lu lived together, and we’re like brothers so it doesn’t count.”Luguentz Dort, left, and Gilgeous-Alexander bonded as teammates and roommates in Oklahoma City.Alonzo Adams/USA Today Sports, via ReutersGilgeous-Alexander and Dort, who are also teammates on the Canadian men’s national basketball team, are candid about their bromance. When Gilgeous-Alexander was vaccinated against the coronavirus, Dort held his hand. (Gilgeous-Alexander is afraid of needles.) When they were roommates, Dort accepted the perils of sharing space with someone who was recently voted GQ magazine’s Most Stylish Man of the Year.“I don’t want to say his clothes are everywhere,” Dort said. “But he has a lot of clothes — clothes that have a lot of volume to them.”But while life in the N.B.A. is rewarding — Gilgeous-Alexander is in the first year of a five-year contract extension worth about $180 million — it can also be disorienting. So he dodges complacency as if it were a traffic cone, supplementing his time with the team by working with Olin Simplis, a high-profile skills coach.And, of course, he heads to Hamilton at the start of each off-season to work out with friends who neither expect nor ask for anything in return.‘Just something that friends do’After his first season in Oklahoma City, Gilgeous-Alexander wanted to make his summers more structured. So he hit up his buddies: Would they help him out five mornings a week?“It wasn’t even something that needed to be said,” said Campbell, who works full-time at a Kids Foot Locker and assists with a girls’ basketball league. “It was just something that friends do: If we want to see this guy grow and succeed, we need to be there for him no matter what.”Last summer, Gilgeous-Alexander would text his friends a few minutes before 7 a.m. to let them know that he was leaving his house — his hoops-centric version of flashing the Bat-Signal.“You get that text, and you know you have about 15 minutes to get ready,” said Chu, a student at Toronto Metropolitan University.Gilgeous-Alexander’s friends help him with shooting and passing drills during the summer in Ontario.Cole Burston for The New York TimesGilgeous-Alexander would retrieve his friends, one by one, in his pale brown Mercedes-Benz G-Class. Castillanes was typically the first stop.“He always got the front seat,” Chu said.Once assembled, they often had enough time during the ride to Burlington to cram in a homespun version of “Carpool Karaoke.” In June, Jack Harlow’s album “Come Home the Kids Miss You” was on repeat. By July, they were tearing through Burna Boy’s latest tracks.“It’s a refreshing start to the day to see all your friends,” Chu said, “even when you’re mad tired.”At the gym, they would warm up and stretch, then Gilgeous-Alexander would polish his shooting for about an hour as his friends rebounded for him. He usually filled the second hour with drills — footwork, defense, passing — before transitioning into half-court games of 3-on-3 with a lopsided feel.“Shai takes all the shots,” Campbell said.His court work complete, Gilgeous-Alexander would drop his friends off so he could lift weights — in another buddy’s two-car garage. Nem Ilic, 27, who describes his work as “athlete development,” spent last summer building Gilgeous-Alexander’s lower body: lunges in the garage, weighted sled pushes in the cul-de-sac out front. (The neighbors always knew when Gilgeous-Alexander was around.)“Guys in my position, you usually have to work your way up from high school to college to the pros,” Ilic said. “And I have a unique timeline. It went straight to Shai.”In their own way, the friends are a part of it all.A poster of Gilgeous-Alexander is seen on the doors of Sir Allan MacNab Secondary School.Cole Burston for The New York Times“I think the N.B.A. is so crazy that he wants to come here and feel grounded,” Chu said, “and we’re all so grounded up here that we want to hear about N.B.A. life.”They can see Gilgeous-Alexander’s progress — and feel it, too, whenever they try to defend him on those early summer mornings.“I want to say it’s never really that much of a fun time,” Campbell said.They have busy lives of their own. Montoya, for example, manages a Hamilton-area restaurant. Castillanes recently relocated to Oklahoma City after Gilgeous-Alexander asked him if he would help manage his day-to-day life. And Kong works in public health while he prepares for medical school.“You know how they say commitment will pay off if you improve by 1 percent every day? It’s something you see in real time with Shai,” Kong said. “And it’s something I can apply to my own life.” More

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      Once an ‘Easy Way Out’ for Equality, Women’s Soccer Is Now a U.S. Force

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      Brooke Volza and the other girls who play in the top division of high school soccer in Albuquerque know all about the Metro Curse: The team that wins the city’s metro tournament at the start of the season is doomed to end the year without a state championship.So when Cibola High School defied that fate with Volza scoring the only goal in the team’s 1-0 victory against Carlsbad High School before a cheering stadium crowd at the University of New Mexico last year, it was pandemonium. “I started crying. I started hugging everyone,” Volza, 17, said, describing the experience as “times 10 amazing.”Now the ball she used to score that goal sits on a shelf in her bedroom, covered with her teammates’ autographs and jersey numbers. Across it in large capital letters are the words, “2021 STATE CHAMPIONS.”Fifty years ago, Volza’s experience of sprawling and robust competitive high school soccer was effectively unheard-of in the United States. Yet thanks to Title IX, which became law in 1972 and banned sex discrimination in education, generations of girls have had the promise of access to sports and other educational programs.Brooke Volza at Cibola High School in Albuquerque.Adria Malcolm for The New York TimesAsia Lawyer, a rising senior at Centennial High School in Boise, Idaho.Lindsey Wasson for The New York TimesAnd girls’ soccer, perhaps more than any other women’s sport, has grown tremendously in the 50 years since. School administrators quickly saw adding soccer as a cost-effective way to comply with the law, and the rising interest helped youth leagues swell. Talented players from around the globe came to the United States. And as millions of American women and girls benefited, the best of them gave rise to a U.S. women’s national program that has dominated the world stage.“Once Title IX broke down those barriers, and let women and girls play sports, and said they have to be provided with equal opportunities, the girls came rushing through,” said Neena Chaudhry, the general counsel and senior adviser for education at the National Women’s Law Center. “They came through in droves.”A 50-Year Rise Out of NowhereWomen’s participation in high school and college athletics surged after the passage of Title IX in 1972, and no sport has added more players than soccer.

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      Girls’ Participation in High School Sports
      Notes: Top 15 sports shown. Data is not available for all sports in all years, and comparable data is not available prior to the 1978-79 academic year.Source: National Federation of State High School AssociationsBy The New York Times

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      Women’s Participation in N.C.A.A. Divisions I, II and III
      Notes: Top 15 sports shown. Data is not available for all sports in all years, and comparable data is not available prior to the 1981-82 academic year. Some schools were added to the data in 1995-96.Source: N.C.A.A.By The New York TimesBefore Title IX passed, an N.C.A.A. count found only 13 women’s collegiate soccer teams in the 1971-72 season, with 313 players. In 1974, the first year in which a survey by the National Federation of State High School Associations tracked girls’ participation across the United States, it counted 6,446 girls playing soccer in 321 schools in just seven states, mostly in New York. That number climbed to about 394,100 girls playing soccer in high schools across the country during the 2018-19 school year, with schools often carrying multiple teams and states sponsoring as many as five divisions.Mountain View Los Altos stretching during the tournament in Redmond, the Elite Clubs National League playoffs.Lindsey Wasson for The New York TimesIn 2018-19, the most recent season counted because of the coronavirus pandemic, there were 3.4 million girls overall participating in high school sports, compared with 4.5 million boys.Many of those athletes have overcome fears to try out for a team. Some have practiced late into the night, running sprints after goofing off with teammates. Some have found archrivals through competition, and plenty have grappled with the sting of defeat. Numerous girls and women on the soccer pitch have felt the thrill of a goal, and the pride of being part of something bigger than themselves.“We are the heart and soul of soccer at Cibola,” Volza said.Title IX is a broad law, and was not originally intended to encompass sports. Its origins lie in fighting discrimination against women and girls in federally funded academic institutions. But as the regulations were hashed out, they eventually encompassed athletics, and it helped bridge disparities beyond the classroom. Today, Title IX is perhaps best known for its legacy within women’s interscholastic athletics.Despite initial and heavy opposition to the law because of a perceived threat to men’s athletic programs, the N.C.A.A. eventually sponsored women’s sports, including soccer in 1982. Before that, only a handful of teams played one another around the country.The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, a dynasty that has won 21 N.C.A.A. championships and produced inimitable players including Mia Hamm, began its run playing against high schoolers.“We didn’t really have anyone to play,” said Anson Dorrance, the head coach of the women’s team since its inception in 1979. He described how he cobbled together a schedule that first season. One travel soccer club, the McLean Grasshoppers, “came down to U.N.C. and beat us like a drum,” he said.Florida Gators Coach Samantha Bohon, left, talking with an assistant coach, Jocie Rix, as they scout players during the Elite Clubs National League playoffs.Lindsey Wasson for The New York TimesThe playoffs are a big showcase for high school players to be seen by top college coaches.Lindsey Wasson for The New York TimesAfter the N.C.A.A. brought women’s soccer into the fold, participation rates went from 1,855 players on 80 teams across all three divisions in 1982 to nearly 28,000 players across 1,026 teams in 2020-21.Now, the N.C.A.A. claims soccer as the most expanded women’s sports program among universities in the last three decades.Current and former athletic directors, sports administrators and coaches attribute the rise of soccer to several factors. Initially, complying with the law was a game of numbers and dollars: Soccer is a relatively large sport, where average roster sizes typically float between 20 and 26 players. The generous roster sizes helped schools meet the requirements of the law to offer similar numbers of opportunities to male and female students.For administrators, soccer was also economical: It needed only a field, a ball and two goals. It was also a relatively easy sport to learn.“At the time schools were interested in, ‘How can I add sports for women that wouldn’t cost me very much?’” said Donna Lopiano, founder and president of Sports Management Resources and a former chief executive of the Women’s Sports Foundation. She added: “Schools were looking for the easy way out.”The shifts did not begin until the late 1980s and early 1990s. College programs increasingly gained varsity status — often pressured by litigation — which created scholarship opportunities and made soccer a pathway to higher education. The game boomed at the high school level, where it became one of the most popular sports, fourth in terms of participation rates for girls for 2018-19, according to the high school federation (the top three girls’ sports were track and field, volleyball and basketball).An under-14 match in Redmond.Lindsey Wasson for The New York TimesA cottage industry of club teams also sprang up around the country, as athletes jockeyed for attention from college coaches. The youth game grew, and university teams became a farm system for the elite world stage, as women struggled to play the sport in many countries outside the United States.The U.S. women’s national team went largely unnoticed when it played its first international match in 1985. It also got little attention in 1991 when it won the first Women’s World Cup, held in Guangdong, China.Then the United States began to feel the power of Title IX. In 1996, women’s soccer debuted at the Olympics in Atlanta, and the United States won gold. During the 1999 Women’s World Cup final, against China, the Americans secured a victory during penalty kicks before a capacity crowd of more than 90,000 people at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, Calif.Michelle Akers, the pillar of the U.S.W.N.T. in the ’80s and ’90s who is now an assistant coach for the Orlando Pride women’s professional team, said Title IX was “game-changing.” “I can’t even understand the amount of time and energy and heartache that took to get that pushed through, and not just pushing it through but enforcing it — making it real for people, and making it real for me,” she said.The national team’s success continued, with a record four World Cup titles and four Olympic golds. And this year, after a six-year legal battle, a multimillion-dollar settlement and eventual labor agreement established equal pay for players representing the U.S. men’s and women’s national teams when competing internationally.“It was a historic moment, not just for soccer, but for sport,” Cindy Parlow Cone, U.S. Soccer’s president, said.The U.S. women’s national team celebrating its World Cup win in 2019 after a parade in Manhattan.Calla Kessler/The New York TimesSydney Sharts, left, and her sister Hannah, right, are college players. Their mother, Michelle, was on a club team in the ’90s.Alisha Jucevic for The New York TimesIn 1993, Michele Sharts was part of a club team at U.C.L.A. that threatened to sue the school under Title IX for not sponsoring women’s soccer.Sharts, who was cut from the inaugural varsity squad, now has two daughters playing at large university programs. Hannah, 22, started at U.C.L.A. before transferring to Colorado, where she is a graduate student. Sydney, 20, began at Oklahoma before transferring to Kansas State for the coming season.Hannah Sharts has played in front of as many as 5,000 fans. “Being able to gradually see more and more fans fill up the stands throughout my college experience has been very promising,” Hannah Sharts said. Both Hannah and Sydney have dreams to play professionally.Like the Sharts sisters, Volza, the rising senior in New Mexico, plans to play in college. She is looking at Division II and III schools with strong engineering programs.But first, she has her final year of high school ahead. Volza said she wanted to be a leader for the younger players.“I want to motivate them and teach them what it’s like to play varsity soccer for a state-winning championship team,” Volza said.And Volza wants to make history again in her own corner of America, by leading her team to win the Metro tournament and state championship in back-to-back years.Members of the De Anza Force celebrating a win over World Class F.C. in Redmond.Lindsey Wasson for The New York Times More

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      N.B.A. Draft Preview: A Deep Field Could Yield Surprise Stars

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      Fans may have heard of Chet Holmgren and Shaedon Sharpe, but others are ready for their shot: “I knew if I got good enough, the N.B.A. would find me,” one said.When the Orlando Magic hand their draft card to N.B.A. Commissioner Adam Silver, on Thursday night at Barclays Center, they’ll settle a debate that has raged in draft circles for the better part of a year: Who should be the No. 1 pick?The front-runner is Gonzaga’s Chet Holmgren, a rail-thin but nail-tough seven-footer who can shoot, dribble, pass and defend with aplomb. But there are equally strong cases to be made for the Auburn big man Jabari Smith, who spent this past season sinking seemingly impossible shots, and for Duke’s Paolo Banchero, a creative shotmaker who is as polished in the paint as he is on the perimeter.“All three guys are incredibly talented,” said Jonathan Givony, founder of the scouting service DraftExpress an N.B.A. draft analyst at ESPN. “This draft has really great players at the top and really good depth, too.”Here are five more prospects to know.Nikola Jovic doesn’t mind being compared to Nikola Jokic. After all, Jokic is a two-time most valuable player, he said.Darko Vojinovic/Associated PressNikola Jovic6-foot-11, 223 pounds, forward, Mega Mozzart (Serbia)People ask Nikola Jovic about Nikola Jokic all the time. And it makes sense. Jovic and the Denver Nuggets star have quite a bit in common: They’re both Serbian big men who played for the same club, Mega Mozzart, and only a single letter separates their last names. But the comparison doesn’t bother Jovic, who is expected to be the first international player taken on Thursday.“People bring that up all the time,” he said. “I’m really cool with that. I think it’s pretty funny also because the chances of something like that happening are really low. At the same time, I feel good because people are comparing me to a two-time league M.V.P.”As a boy, Jovic wanted to be a professional water polo player. He spent his summers with his mother in Montenegro and loved swimming in the Adriatic Sea. When he was 13, his father introduced him to basketball. What started as a backyard hobby soon became an obsession and a profession. “I was getting bigger and bigger,” Jovic said, “and it was pretty easy to see that basketball would be a better choice than water polo.”Although many N.B.A. teams track European stars from their early teenage years, Jovic didn’t become a big name on draft boards until he broke out at the Adidas Next Generation Tournament in Belgrade in March 2021. Offensively, he could develop into a floor-spacing 4 who can shoot 3s, lead fast breaks and make smart passes. He said he is willing to remain in Europe after being drafted, but he hopes to land with a team that wants him to play right away.“Even if I need to play in the G League, that’s cool,” he said, referring to the N.B.A.’s developmental league. “But right now, I think the perfect fit for me is the N.B.A.”Dominick Barlow has gone from overlooked three-star prospect to a potential first-round pick.Kyle Hess/Overtime Elite, via Associated PressDominick Barlow6-foot-9, 221 pounds, forward, Overtime EliteWhen N.B.A. evaluators visited Overtime Elite this year, it was with an eye toward the future. The start-up league has potential top-10 players in the 2023 and 2024 drafts. But one player from the 2022 draft class took advantage of all that extra scouting attention and has worked his way from being an unheralded 3-star high school prospect to a potential first-round draft pick: Dominick Barlow.“The fact that this was OTE’s first year intrigued scouts,” Barlow, 19, said. “And once the scouts were in the building, they were able to see what I could do.”Barlow played for Dumont High School, a small public high school in Dumont, N.J. He didn’t land with a powerhouse Amateur Athletic Union program until the summer before his senior year, when a coach for the New York Renaissance spotted him playing at a public park. He surprised most basketball insiders in September when he left a prep program and declined several high-major offers to sign with Overtime Elite. It offers a six-figure salary to boys’ and men’s basketball players who are at least in their junior year of high school.Barlow hopes his story inspires other overlooked players to keep working. “I came in as a 3-star kid, and I’m leaving as an N.B.A. draft pick. Some 5-star kids struggle with getting to the N.B.A. one year after high school,” he said.Keegan Murray, who played for Iowa, was described as the “most productive player in college basketball this year.”Frank Franklin Ii/Associated PressKeegan Murray6-foot-8, 225 pounds, forward, IowaWhen Keegan and Kris Murray were going through the recruiting process for college basketball, the twin brothers told every coach that they weren’t a package deal. Their father, Kenyon, had played college basketball at Iowa in the early 1990s, and he encouraged them to each find their own path.Their father’s faith and knowledge helped the brothers remain buoyant even when they ended their high school careers with just one scholarship offer, to Western Illinois, a Summit League school that has never been to the Division I N.C.A.A. tournament.“Having a D-I player be your coach and teach you everything and guide you through the recruiting process is really helpful,” Keegan, 21, said of his father, who was an assistant on his high school team in Iowa. “He told us we were going to be pros, and we believed him.”After declining the Western Illinois offer and decamping to Florida for a year at a prep school, Keegan and Kris signed with their father’s alma mater, Iowa. Keegan showed remarkable efficiency as a freshman and started garnering N.B.A. draft buzz, but he wasn’t considered a top-flight talent until this past season. As a sophomore, Murray was the top scorer among Power 5 conference players, he had the second most rebounds in the Big Ten, and he shot 55.4 percent from the field and a solid 39.8 percent from 3.“He was the most productive player in college basketball this year,” Givony said, adding that he was good in transition and on defense. “Everybody’s looking for a player like him.”Keegan is projected to be a top-five pick, while Kris has decided to return to Iowa for another season. “Thinking about where I was three years ago and where I am today is surreal,” Keegan said. “I didn’t always know where or when all this hard work would pay off, but I knew it would pay off eventually.”Ryan Rollins, in blue, who played for the University of Toledo, is looking to follow the path of other mid-major players, like Ja Morant, to the N.B.A.Al Goldis/Associated PressRyan Rollins6-foot-3, 179 pounds, guard, ToledoRyan Rollins has heard people say that he should have returned to the University of Toledo for his junior season. With another year of experience, he would project as a likely first-round pick in 2023. But Rollins rejects that idea. He doesn’t see any reason to wait.“I feel like I’m one of the better players in the draft,” Rollins said. “If I don’t get picked first round, that’s fine. In the long run, I’m going to be very good for a very long time in this league. Whenever and wherever I end up going, I’ll be proud to be there.”A Detroit native, Rollins played for a prominent A.A.U. program, the Family. But the stacked roster, combined with some nagging injuries and his decision to commit to college early, kept him under the recruiting radar. “I always had the mind-set that I was where I was for a reason,” he said. “I kept working, kept trying to perfect my craft. I didn’t worry about the politics of basketball. I knew if I got good enough, the N.B.A. would find me.”Over two seasons at Toledo, he emerged as a mid-major showstopper, with a smooth handle, fluid footwork and a deadly midrange game. Now he’s likely to be a second-round pick with the potential to sneak into the first round. But he’s more worried about what he does when he arrives in the N.B.A. He hopes he can be the next mid-major player to become a superstar.He’s inspired by former mid-major players who are in the N.B.A., such as Ja Morant (Murray State), Damian Lillard (Weber State) and CJ McCollum (Lehigh University).“They went to small schools but have been able to make names for themselves,” Rollins said. “I feel like I’m next.”Shaedon Sharpe is expected to be a top-10 pick, even though he hasn’t played competitively in almost a year.Todd Kirkland/Getty ImagesShaedon Sharpe6-foot-5, 198 pounds, guard, KentuckyThere is no player more mysterious in the 2022 draft than Shaedon Sharpe. Although he’s listed as a Kentucky prospect, Sharpe never suited up for the Wildcats. In fact, he hasn’t played in a competitive basketball game in almost a year.The Ontario, Canada, native moved to Kansas to play for Sunrise Christian Academy in his sophomore year of high school, then transferred to Arizona’s Dream City Christian in 2020 for his junior season, when he was unranked in the class of 2022. Then a dominant performance with the UPlay Canada team in the Nike Elite Youth Basketball League last summer made everyone take notice. The tournament is often a proving ground for future N.B.A. stars, and Sharpe averaged 22.6 points, 5.8 rebounds and 2.7 assists in 28.3 minutes per game over 12 games.Sharpe graduated from high school a year early and enrolled at Kentucky this spring. Although there were rumors that he would join the team on the court, or return for the 2022-23 season, he has instead entered the N.B.A. draft. And there’s good reason: He will almost certainly be taken in the top 10.“In terms of physical ability and sheer talent, it’s all there,” Givony said. “He’s a dynamic shot maker, an aggressive defender, a smart passer.”N.B.A. teams haven’t been able to see much from him, but his 6-foot-11 wingspan, explosive athleticism and polished shooting stroke could have most N.B.A. teams outside of the top five ready to take the risk. More

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      ‘Jersey Is Taking Over’: N.J. Hoopers Outshine the Shadow of New York

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      Far more N.B.A. players have come from New York than its neighbor state. But a wave of rising stars in boys’ basketball can shift the trend.Elliot Cadeau was born in Brooklyn, but he doesn’t have any memories of living in the borough. When he was 3 months old, his parents packed up their possessions, strapped him into his car seat and decamped to New Jersey.Growing up in West Orange, Cadeau became a Jets fan. His mother, who is from Sweden, and his father, who is from Haiti, had a hard time understanding the popularity of American professional football, but they indulged their son’s obsession — to a point. He was allowed to paint his room in the Jets’ colors of green and white, but he wasn’t allowed to play the sport. His mother thought it would be too dangerous. Instead, she suggested that her 7-year-old son try out for a basketball team.Ten years later, Cadeau is a star at Bergen Catholic High School and a top-10 recruit in the class of 2024. And he’s part of an elite group of New Jersey high school basketball players who may be among the best contingent of talent the state has ever produced.Rate this layup 1-10! 🫴🍇 @ElliotCadeau @NikeEYB pic.twitter.com/4kaFOW96O2— SLAM HS Hoops (@SLAM_HS) June 14, 2022
      In addition to Cadeau — the No. 7 player in the country, according to the composite rankings of the recruiting website 247 Sports — the sophomore class includes: No. 1 Naasir Cunningham (Overtime Elite), No. 33 Dylan Harper (Don Bosco Prep) and No. 42 Tahaad Pettiford (Hudson Catholic). And the juniors a year ahead of Cadeau & Co. include: No. 1 Dajuan Wagner Jr., who goes by DJ (Camden High School), No. 3 Mackenzie Mgbako (Gill St. Bernard’s), No. 12 Simeon Wilcher (Roselle Catholic), No. 20 Aaron Bradshaw (Camden) and No. 48 Akil Watson (Roselle Catholic).“It’s been a great time to grow up playing basketball in New Jersey,” Cadeau said. “The competition and friendship among elite players here is unlike anywhere else. I don’t feel like there’s another state right now that can compete with New Jersey in terms of basketball talent.”Although New Jersey was home to some of the game’s all-time greats — including Shaquille O’Neal and Rick Barry — historically it has struggled to escape New York’s basketball shadow. In the N.B.A.’s 76 years, 419 players have hailed from New York, compared to just 146 from New Jersey, according to Basketball Reference. And on the rosters for the 2021-22 season, the disparity was just as sharp: There were 33 New Yorkers compared to just 12 New Jerseyites. But in the classes of 2023 and 2024, New Jersey has 10 top-50 recruits compared to just two from New York.DJ Wagner, the son of the former N.B.A. player Dajuan Wagner, is ranked at the top of the class of 2023.Gregory Payan/Associated Press“I don’t want to disrespect anybody,” said Billy Armstrong, who graduated from Bergen Catholic in 1994 and now coaches Cadeau. “But when I played here, the talent wasn’t nearly at the level it is now, that’s for sure. This is my 11th year as varsity coach, and I can say that in the last four or five years, the talent has really taken off. There’s this pride here when New Jersey is in the conversation as the best basketball state in the entire country.”Armstrong also played collegiate basketball at Davidson and professionally overseas. He pointed to the tenacity and toughness it takes to live in major metropolitan areas in the Northeast as part of the reason so much talent has emerged in his home state. He also thinks there’s a momentum effect in play. Players like Karl-Anthony Towns and Kyrie Irving have given children growing up in the Garden State some New Jersey-born stars to look up to. And those young players have competed against each other for years, strengthening each other’s games and helping them get noticed by recruiting services and college coaches.Since 247’s first rankings were released a year and a half ago, DJ Wagner has been considered the No. 1 player in the Class of 2023. The son of the former N.B.A. player Dajuan Wagner, DJ is a highly skilled combo guard. His game, and the attention around his recruiting, has given his teammates a leg up. Bradshaw, who plays with Wagner at Camden and on their Amateur Athletic Union team, the New Jersey Scholars, started off as a 3-star recruit. He’s now a 5-star, with offers from blue chip programs like Kentucky, Michigan and U.C.L.A.“These kids have been playing with and against each other for a long time,” Scholars Coach Jason Harrigan said. “And when you get a really special kid in a class — a kid like DJ — his competitiveness rubs off on everyone. He helps raise the level of play for the entire class, and they help him to elevate his game, too.”Nets point guard Kyrie Irving went to St. Patrick High School in Elizabeth, N.J. One reason he signed with the Nets as a free agent in 2019, he said, was to be closer to home.Brad Penner/USA Today Sports, via Reuters“I’m from Jersey. Have that a little bit of trash talk, but more the swag, the confidence we walk around in our neighborhoods with,” Minnesota Timberwolves center Karl-Anthony Towns told The New York Times in April.Andy Clayton-King/Associated PressThe talent level, combined with the recent relaxation of rules that allow college and high school athletes to earn sponsorship money, has led to unique opportunities for many players in the state. Cadeau, who has dual citizenship and plays for the Swedish national team, is represented by Roc Nation and already has a five-figure endorsement through what is known as a name, image and likeness deal, or N.I.L. And Cunningham, the No. 1 player in 2024, recently signed with Overtime Elite, a prestigious professional-development program in Atlanta. He became the first player to sign with the program without taking a salary, preserving his collegiate eligibility.“Growing up in New Jersey, every kid is dreaming of getting to the pros,” Cunningham said. “When I was little, I didn’t even know what college basketball was. I was just thinking N.B.A., N.B.A., N.B.A. But as I got older, I started thinking more about going to college. With OTE, I get pro training and education, and I get to keep my options open. Plus, I can still make money with N.I.L.”New Jersey’s coaches, of course, prefer that players remain close to home. And they say that N.I.L. is helping them persuade players to stay at their high school for all four years.“These players take pride in New Jersey,” said Dave Boff, who coaches Wilcher and Watson at Roselle Catholic. “The fans look forward to having a player who rises the ranks from his freshman to his senior seasons. And the players get to take advantage of the opportunities their talent affords while still being able to sleep in their own bed.”When he talks to college coaches about what makes this crop of New Jersey basketball prospects so coveted, Boff consistently hears one theme: toughness.Cunningham left New Jersey to play for Overtime Elite in Atlanta, and he’s proud to represent his home state. “Jersey is taking over,” he said.Gregory Payan/Associated Press“The college coaches see that New Jersey guys have confidence, they have swagger, and they aren’t afraid of physical basketball,” Boff said. “When we travel to national games, our players are always surprised by the ticky-tack foul calls. In New Jersey, the refs let our guys beat each other up a little bit, and our guys welcome that. They know they’re making each other better.”For Cunningham, leaving home wasn’t an easy decision, but he hopes to make it a little easier by recruiting some other players from New Jersey to join him in Atlanta. After all, every one of these players hopes to jump to a bigger stage — be it college basketball or OTE or the N.B.A. — sooner or later.“Jersey is taking over,” Cunningham said. “Everywhere you look in New Jersey, there’s a high-level basketball player. And soon, we’re going to be all over the country. For us, it’s about showing what our state is all about and making sure it continues the success into the future. It’s not pressure. It’s motivation.” More

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      In a Georgia Mill Town, Soccer Presents a New Opportunity

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      DALTON, Ga. — The old folks are mostly white and carry in boxes of pizza and portable stadium seats to prop up their backs. The young mothers are predominantly Hispanic, and some press sleeping babies against their chests. Students and fathers are here, too. Most of Whitfield County has packed into Bill Chappell Stadium for the event of the spring: El Clásico, the annual boys’ soccer showdown between the county rivals Dalton High School and Southeast Whitfield High School.The match is a celebration of high-level soccer: Each team reigns as a state champion in its class and is ranked in the top 10 nationally. But the game has a deeper significance: It shows how immigration and a white-and-black soccer ball have transformed this city in the Appalachian foothills of Georgia.To understand what this place has become, look to the soccer field, where for 80 minutes the two teams performed a frenetic ballet, with the ball rocketing from one seemingly Velcroed foot to another. The only person on either team who was not Latino was Dalton Coach Matt Cheaves, who came here 28 years ago to evangelize soccer and found disciples in first-generation immigrants who were raised on the game.An estimated 2,800 people came to see the Dalton Catamounts take on the Southeast Whitfield Raiders in March. Matt Cheaves, the coach of the Catamounts, has helped popularize soccer in a state where football is king. Tune in to “Monday Night Fútbol,” a high school recap program on WDNN, or study the mural on the side of the Oakwood Cafe, with its illustrated history of Dalton, which has long been known as “the carpet capital of the world.” (More than 80 percent of the tufted carpet manufactured in the United States is produced in and around Dalton.) Catherine Evans Whitener, commonly referred to as Dalton’s first lady of carpet, is depicted on the mural, but so is a soccer goalie.Or visit James Brown Park, where “the cages,” as the retrofitted tennis courts are known, are packed with 6-, 8- and 10-year-olds playing rapid-fire soccer matches to five. Winners stay on.Only then will you understand how this town of nearly 35,000 — now 53 percent Hispanic — became an unlikely center for America’s slow tilt toward soccer and why it now calls itself Soccer Town U.S.A.It may not be as chest-puffing as the title of “home to more millionaires per capita than any other city in the United States,” which Dalton held in the 1970s. It is not as sexy as “the hometown of the killer blondes,” as a headline in The Washington Post proclaimed in 1990 when a favorite daughter, Marla Maples, was involved with a married New York developer named Donald J. Trump.Still, this new identity was hard-earned, not only on the soccer fields but also on the factory floors, town halls and neighborhoods whose demographics were upended.“We came here to work in the mills,” said Juan Azua, a field services consultant whose family was among the first half-dozen Hispanic families to come here in the 1970s. “My parents called their brothers and cousins and told them there was work here. It was like, boom, another wave slammed into town and kept coming.”A section of a mural painted by Mayelli Meza in Dalton.Audra Melton for The New York TimesImmigrant workers who were wanted in the mills in good times were not so welcome when jobs became scarcer. After the Great Recession, Georgia passed a law creating the Immigration Enforcement Review Board to investigate citizen complaints about municipalities not enforcing immigration laws. Sheriffs used roadblocks to snare people without papers and handed them over to the federal government for deportation.America Gruner, president of the Coalition of Latino Leaders in Dalton, said hundreds of undocumented families left town from 2009 to 2012. Thirty percent of the Hispanic population remains unauthorized, she said.“It was a sort of ghost town because people were afraid of being stopped, detained and deported,” Gruner said. “It was hardest on the children who were frightened that their parents would be sent away and they’d have to stay here.”Georgia has since abandoned the Immigration Enforcement Review Board, but Gruner said anti-immigrant sentiments persist in Whitfield County, where Trump won 70 percent of the vote in the 2016 and 2020 presidential elections.Still, there are victories: Dalton recently broke ground on a soccer complex featuring two FIFA-regulation-size turf fields.“I couldn’t imagine a soccer field being built a couple of years ago,” Gruner said. “We felt the anti-immigrant feeling in sports and our culture. It’s changing little by little. It’s not perfect. We have a long way to go. But there is more understanding.”Talent, Speed and a Work EthicNearly 2,800 people are here on a warm Thursday night to see the Dalton High School Catamounts take on the Southeast Whitfield High School Raiders. The most famous Clásico, of course, is any match between F.C. Barcelona and Real Madrid, but the rivalry here is also intense and pits cousins against cousins and club team players against one another.On the sideline before the game, Cheaves is a soothing presence to his players. His ball cap is pulled down low, his encouragements uttered softly with a Southern lilt. He fell in love with soccer as a 5-year-old and played in high school and at the college club level.“I thought it was a blast the first time I kicked the ball,” Cheaves said. “I was good at it and thought I had something to contribute.”He arrived here in the summer of 1994 with a degree in health and physical education from the University of West Georgia. He had hopes of making a difference as a soccer coach, making him an outlier in a state where football is king.The Catamounts in the locker room before the match.“I grew up with old coaches who’d tell you that you were playing a Communist sport,” Cheaves said.Within days of his arrival, he discovered Dalton Soccer League, known informally as the Mexican league. On a field near the high school, Cheaves watched two teams of middle school students exchange nifty passes as if the ball were on a rope.“There was talent, plenty of speed and a work ethic,” he said. “I didn’t have to develop fundamental skill, but just keep them sharp.”The challenge was getting them to come out for the high school team.Cheaves’s first team had six Hispanic players. One was Roy Alvarran, 43, the son of migrant workers who picked oranges and peaches for 50 cents a bag before they found steady, salaried work in Dalton. Alvarran loved soccer but felt pressure to follow what he called “the Mexican route.” High school athletics and college ambitions were not on that route, he said.“You finish school, get married, have a kid at 18 or 19 and go to work in the carpet mill,” Alvarran said. “The Mexican route — so that’s what I did.”Alvarran, Azua and another friend, Todd Hudgins, are the unofficial historians of soccer in Whitfield County. They competed against each other in high school — Azua played for the Raiders, Hudgins for Northwest Whitfield High School. Together, they host “Monday Night Fútbol.”From left, Todd Hudgins, Juan Azua and Roy Alvarran, who played soccer in high school, now host a soccer show on a local station. Leaning over the chain link fence on the sideline, the friends were still competing as they reminisced.“The last three times we played Dalton it ended in ties,” said Azua, whose cousin is the head coach of Southeast Whitfield’s team.“A tie is like a loss to us,” said Alvarran, the current president of Dalton Soccer League.Dalton High School’s history is rich. The Catamounts made the playoffs in Cheaves and Alvarran’s first season. The next year, a few more Hispanic players showed up for tryouts, and a few more each year after that. In 2003, Dalton won the school’s first state soccer championship with an all-Hispanic team.The victories kept piling up: In the Cheaves era, Dalton is 436-59-19.So did state titles: The Catamounts were 64-0 over three undefeated seasons that ended with titles, in 2013, 2014 and 2015. In 2019, they were undefeated in 23 games, earning their fifth title and ending the season ranked No. 1 nationally. Covid-19 ended the 2020 season, but Dalton came back last year to add a sixth championship.Along the way, Cheaves passed up opportunities to go on to bigger jobs. “I didn’t want to bounce around,” he said. “I wanted to make a difference in life. I like seeing guys around town and what they have done.”The success of Dalton’s soccer program has transformed expectations beyond the field.The rivalry between the two teams pits cousins against cousins and club team teammates against club team teammates.In the last four years, Dalton has sent more than a dozen players to college on scholarships, including one who went to Wake Forest.Alvarran’s son, Jacob, a senior on the Catamounts, hopes to play at Dalton State. Roy Alvarran never went to college, but he left the mills and now sells insurance.“I want him to keep on going to school, not to jump into the carpet mill,” Alvarran said. “You can’t hate on it because they’re making $15-plus an hour. It saved my family, but there’s other ways to make money.”The stability offered by a regular paycheck at companies like Shaw and Mohawk Industries retains a powerful hold on the newer Daltonians. But now many are focused on a different path.“Every kid on this field could play in college at some level,” Azua said. “They all have the opportunity. The question is will they take that offer? And will their parents let them?”Uniting the Community“Our Community,” the mural on the side of the Oakwood Cafe in downtown Dalton, is the work of Mayelli Meza, whose family emigrated from Mexico. It was unveiled in early March after the artist spent four months on a ladder with brush in hand. Meza’s commission was to depict Dalton’s past, present and future.The muralist Mayelli Meza, her husband, Manny, and son Andree after the game.Audra Melton for The New York TimesMeza’s mural on the Oakwood Cafe depicts the town’s past, present and future.Audra Melton for The New York TimesIncluded are the first lady of carpet; carpet rolls; a kayaker, for the town’s love of the outdoors; and a train, for the impact the railroads had on extending Georgia’s multibillion-dollar textile industry.Two prominent elements are more personal to Meza. To evoke the diversity and female empowerment taking hold in her town, she included teenage girls — white, Black, Hispanic, Indian and Asian.Then there is the teenage goalkeeper.“That’s my son, Isaac,” Meza said, watching nervously from the fence as the final minutes of this Clásico ticked away.With his diving saves and last-minute deflections, Isaac Meza stayed a step ahead of the Raiders for 78 minutes, and Dalton High School was ahead, 3-1. But Southeast Whitfield conceded nothing, and with 1 minute 14 seconds left, the Raiders’ Nathan Villanueva got behind Dalton’s defense. Meza lunged forward, but the ball sailed past him.His mother grimaced and the Southeast Whitfield grandstand erupted — it was 3-2, and the Raiders were still alive.With 18 seconds left, the Raiders’ Angel Garcia stepped up for a free kick. He arced a shot over the wall of Catamounts standing sentinel in front of the goal. The ball hooked left. Meza leaped. His fingers brushed the ball, but it landed softly in the corner of the net.In soccer parlance, Garcia had delivered a perfect upper 90.Mexican American high school students in Dalton are increasingly seeking opportunities beyond the flooring mills.Mayelli Meza headed off to hug her muse. For the fourth consecutive time, El Clásico had ended in a tie.The next morning, Alvarran managed to remain in good spirits. It was not the triumphant ending he had hoped for. Instead, it was a perfect finish for the denizens of Soccer Town U.S.A.“I’ll have to hear that we tied for an entire year,” he said. “This game is what we look forward to every season, and the kids from both teams never fail us. Both teams are very good, but when they play each other, they bring out the best in each other. I hope you got to see how this rivalry is so passionately played, but also how it unites our community.” More

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      When Stuyvestant High Finished Its Football Season After 9/11

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      Stuyvesant High, blocks from the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, finished its football season in 2001 under dour circumstances. Was the attempt at normalcy worth it?Follow our live coverage of the 20th anniversary of 9/11.The football season began with a victory for the Peglegs of Stuyvesant High School. A team laden with seniors and playoff expectations downed a tough rival from Staten Island in the season’s first game, played on the warm afternoon of Saturday, Sept. 8, 2001.Three days later came the terrifying tragedy that changed the world and left an indelible emotional mark on the students at Stuyvesant and their football team.Stuyvesant sits just a scant few blocks from the World Trade Center. So close that the 10-story school building shook as the hijacked jets sliced into the twin towers. So close that some students feared they would be crushed if the buildings fell.“I remember so many of the moments from that terrible day and our struggle afterward to put together a season,” said Paul Chin, a wide receiver on that team. “I remember it feeling by feeling, image by image. They are shards of memories, and they do not go away.”Everyone on that team carries them, added Chin, now 37 and an associate professor at the Relay Graduate School of Education.“It’s been 20 years?” he said. “How can that be?”Think for a moment about Sept. 11 and sports. How the stories told most are those of the professionals or the collegiate athletes, big names on the big stage, and their defiant, resolute return to action. The Yankees and their run to the World Series. Mike Piazza’s homer for the Mets in the team’s first home game after the attacks. One of the first big college football games: Nebraska hosting Rice in a stadium dripping with American flags and unfettered displays of patriotism.High school football, just getting underway that summer, played an important but less-heralded role in helping an unmoored nation heal from its wounds. All across America — north to south, west to east — football seasons played by little-known teens provided comfort in a more personal way than the World Series or Michigan vs. Ohio State.Few high school teams were more affected by Sept. 11 than the Stuyvesant Peglegs, who remain unusually close even now. They attend one another’s weddings, celebrate one another’s newborn babies, maintain group chats and fantasy leagues. Many of them showed up this summer for the funeral of Matt Hahn, a beloved assistant coach who died in July at age 67. Paralyzed from the waist down, Hahn mentored the team from a wheelchair.A silly photo of the 2001 Stuyvesant varsity football team.“He was so important to the kids at that time. His example meant everything to that team,” said David Velkas, the team’s now retired coach, who was then in his first year leading the squad. “Matty let nothing stop him from what he was doing and living his life. And with that in mind, we would not let Sept. 11 stop us.”None of his players lost close family members in the attacks, Velkas said, but nearly all saw the devastation up close. They scrambled with their fellow students to evacuate from school. They headed north, sometimes sprinting, fearful of being hit by falling buildings or flying concrete.They made their way home — or in the case of players like Chin, who lived in Battery Park City, which were uninhabitable because of the attacks — to the homes of friends and family members.They wondered what was next. What would become of their school year, their beloved team, their season of high hopes?Stuyvesant, for over 100 years one of New York City’s most elite public schools, closed for nearly a month. Its building became a triage center.“For a while, nobody knew if we were going to have a season,” Velkas told me during one of nearly a dozen recent phone interviews with members of the team. “We were in limbo. Other schools were playing in the city and across the country, but we were not. But we also knew that giving the teenagers on that team something to hold on to — that was key.”The entire school temporarily moved for weeks to Brooklyn Technical High School, where the Peglegs practiced football in the morning and went to classes in the afternoon. There were no showers so they changed in a shop room.In their first game back in late September, they stood alongside their Long Island City High opponents for the national anthem. That had never happened before. Velkas — whose wife’s firefighter cousin died in the attacks — passed out American flag decals for players to affix to their helmets. The Peglegs lost, 42-14.By the middle of October, Stuyvesant’s roughly 3,000 students had returned to their campus. An awful, acrid smell still hung in the air. The streets around the school had filled with checkpoints, barricades and police officers carrying high-powered weaponry.Football traditionally got short shrift at Stuyvesant, which is known for its competitive academics. But the school went all out in 2001 to support the team, recalled Eddie Seo, a tight end that year who now volunteers as an assistant coach.Seo said that officials arranged buses to freight students from all over the five boroughs to that year’s homecoming game at John F. Kennedy High in the Bronx. The Peglegs lost again, but what Seo recalled most vividly was how the stands were filled with what felt like a thousand fans instead of the usual few dozen.“I came off the field, and I could hear my friends in the stands saying, ‘Great catch, great play!’” Seo said. “I had not heard that before. That was as good a way as any to heal from what we had been through.”On the hard season went. Key players sustained season-ending injuries. A few quit.The 2001 varsity captains Nick Oxenhorn (21) and David Olesh (89) with the varsity coaches, from bottom left: Kevin Gault, Alfred Burnett, David Velkas and Peter Bologna. Courtesy David VelkasEven before Sept. 11, the Peglegs did not have a field of their own. They practiced in weedy public parks across Manhattan. In the aftermath of the attacks, all the parks had shuttered or were unreachable but one, on 10th Street and Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive. To get there, the team received permission to bus through a restricted area near ground zero. That meant passing a massive pile of smoldering rubble: the remnants of the fallen towers.On each trip, the bus would stop, and workers in hazmat suits would hose it down with water. “Passing by the pile,” remembered Velkas, “sometimes we would hear a horn blow. The workers had found the remains of someone. We would be still, and I would tell everyone to be quiet.”Some players prayed, he said. Others sat stone faced with grief.A question must be asked, all these years later, and given the benefit of hindsight.With our generation’s increased understanding of trauma and post-traumatic stress — and our knowledge of how the nation rushed into a disastrous war — was it the right choice for Stuyvesant High, or any youth sports team, to return to play so soon?“Does it make sense to have a team full of high school football players driving through the wreckage of 9/11 for practice?” wondered Lance Fraenkel, who captained Stuyvesant’s junior varsity team in 2001. “Maybe we should have been inconvenienced and gone around. And maybe we should have paused the whole season. But I think it is hard to make those decisions in the moment, and looking back I am glad we played.”The season, he said, gave the players an emotional lift in a time of great need.When it ended, Stuyvesant’s record was 2-5. But after Sept. 11, winning was not the point. Just playing was victory enough. More

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      Coronavirus Cases Threaten Basketball Recruiting

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      Top prospects at Peach Jam, one of the most important summer basketball tournaments, hoped to impress college scouts but have been sidelined by coronavirus cases.NORTH AUGUSTA, S.C. — The recent surge of coronavirus cases has waylaid the Olympic hopes of dozens of athletes and sidelined Major League Baseball players like Aaron Judge of the Yankees in the last week, so perhaps it is predictable that a Delta variant that has thrived among unvaccinated people would pose a particular threat to the peripatetic world of grass roots youth basketball. More