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Why one of America's biggest field hockey stars was kept off the Olympic stage

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Why one of America's biggest field hockey stars was kept off the Olympic stage

PARIS — The week was almost over, the Olympics nearly wrapped, when Erin Matson walked into the lobby of a botanical-themed boutique hotel. A sort of gilded garden pulled from a Parisian dream. This place is how the other side lives, and the name fit. La Fantaisie.

Nike booked a block of rooms during the Olympic Games. Its guests were part of an annual Athlete Think Tank, a consortium to survey influential women in sports. The list included Dawn Staley, Megan Rapinoe, Sue Bird and so on. They sat for group discussions, Master Class presentations from Serena Williams and Stacey Abrams, and for product sessions, giving feedback on Nike goods coming out soon and others still years from release.

The youngest member of the group was USC basketball star Juju Watkins. The second-youngest was Matson — a 24-year-old entering her second season as head field hockey coach at the University of North Carolina.

Matson arrived in the lobby wearing an oversized designer Nike sweatsuit. The chauffeur waiting outside was scheduled to leave for the airport in 45 minutes. Jess Sims, the Peloton instructor-turned-ESPN personality, walked past, asking if she and Matson were sharing a ride to Charles de Gaulle.

This is not the typical life of an American college field hockey coach. Matson is represented by Wasserman Group, the powerful sports and entertainment agency representing Katie Ledecky, Diana Taurasi, Nelly Korda and others, and this summer proved her reach. She walked the red carpet at the ESPYs. She was a featured speaker at the espnW Summit in New York City.

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At a time when spiking interest in women’s sports is dictated heavily by name recognition and star power, Matson has found a place in these reserved spaces. Once the country’s top high school field hockey player and member of the U.S. national team at age 17, she played five seasons (2018-22) at North Carolina and won all imaginable honors. She became the NCAA’s third all-time leading goal scorer, was part of four national championship teams, and was named national player of the year three times.

But this year, instead of competing in Paris, the 24-year-old face of the sport was across town hanging out with Serena Williams as the U.S. national team went 1-3-1.

The backstory is layered. Following the December 2022 retirement of legendary coach Karen Shelton, UNC named Matson, then 22, as head coach of the winningest, most well-funded college field hockey program in the country. Many celebrated the move as daring — a succession mimicking Shelton’s rise 42 years earlier. It was another era, but Shelton once went from being a three-time national player of the year at West Chester, to high school head coach in New Jersey, to taking over UNC at 23. Others weren’t so cheery about the move. Some saw Matson’s hiring as ridiculous, a borderline insult to women’s sports, and criticized the school for what they saw as a closed job search.

Matson and the Tar Heels responded by winning the school’s 11th national championship in her first season as head coach.

All of this before turning 25.

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Thus, the status.

Thus, Paris.

Matson filled a journal with notes and quotes. She talked to Staley about coach-captain relationships. She listened to Abrams speak on staying true to one’s values. She felt, at times, out of place. “Why am I here?” Not because of a lack of credentials, but because of field hockey’s ultra-niche place in women’s sports. It’s an issue much older than Matson.

Over lunch with Rapinoe one day, Matson was struck by a realization — that Rapinoe, a U.S. soccer icon, became so by being transcendent on the field and outspoken off the field. She raised the profile of women’s soccer as a player, a freedom afforded on the field more than when working as the CEO on the sideline.

In Paris, that field was Yves du Manoir Stadium. The U.S. national team, a group featuring two of Matson’s current players, one former player and five players she’ll coach against this fall, were outscored by eight goals and eliminated in pool play. They failed to medal, again, extending a streak dating to 1984.

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The instinct, of course, is to make it make sense, but nothing is quite so simple here, and it’s only the sport that’s suffering.

Here’s the shortest possible version of the long, convoluted tale of Matson and USA Field Hockey. When hired at North Carolina, Matson knew taking a full-time job with a six-figure salary meant stepping away from the U.S. national team. In her version of events, she wanted a few years to settle into the job, then hoped to continue her playing career, splitting time between coaching and playing. She told UNC athletic director Bubba Cunningham of her plans to pursue the 2028 Olympics in Los Angeles. He was all for it.

Then two things happened. The Tar Heels won the national title in Matson’s first season. And the U.S. national team, one projected as a long shot to make the Paris Olympics, successfully qualified for the Games.


North Carolina coach Erin Matson is lifted up by her team after defeating Northwestern for the national title in November 2023 at Karen Shelton Stadium in Chapel Hill. (Jamie Schwaberow / NCAA Photos via Getty Images)

Reversing course on her original decision, Matson made a late effort to land a spot on the U.S. team, requesting a tryout and playing in the indoor Pan-Am Games to notch some international playing reps. While much of the already established U.S. national team had sacrificed time and energy, living and training at a facility in Charlotte, N.C., the official roster was not yet finalized. Multiple collegians who played their 2023 seasons would be invited to try out. Matson would not. USA Field Hockey issued a statement that Matson “did not qualify under the mandatory terms of the selection criteria.” Simon Hoskins, the executive director of USA Field Hockey, told The Athletic it was his decision to deny the tryout request, saying, “It’s an organizational policy, so it comes to me.”

The resulting backlash ran both ways. Matson’s supporters levied accusations of jealousy in the ranks of USA Field Hockey. Matson’s detractors criticized her for wanting special treatment and walking away from the national team in the first place. Acrimony and arguments mounted. Earlier this summer, a series of conversations with members of the 1984 bronze-medal winning team drew a variety of responses — both that USA Field Hockey wasn’t capitalizing on a new star, and that roster policies exist for a reason. Meanwhile, other current college coaches declined to go on the record to discuss the topic.

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Anyone operating from a perch of perspective could see a valid case either way. Matson did choose to prioritize her coaching career over her playing career. At the same time, regardless of protocols or personal feelings, was it really in the sport’s best interest for her not to try out for the Olympics?

Field hockey, played evenly among men and women in other parts of the world, has long struggled to catch on in the United States. While other women’s sports have hit periods of momentum, field hockey has never moved into the mainstream. It’s regional. It requires specific (read: expensive) turf. It doesn’t draw droves of kids as a youth sport. So while other women’s sports have enjoyed measurable growth, like increased college scholarship totals, field hockey has stagnated. A lack of success at the national level can be seen as both a root cause and a byproduct. Since ’84, the United States has finished no better than fifth in any Games since.

Hoskins cites a lack of government funding.

“It’s just not fair,” he said. “It’s a subsidized industry that we’re competing in. It’s a real struggle for the organization.”

Money is one thing, but popularity is another, and field hockey has never waded into public consciousness because the public knows so little about it. Sports need stars; in this instance, the sport’s biggest American star wasn’t part of the game’s biggest stage in Paris. Well, she was, except she was watching track and swimming meets and posting pictures for her 70,000 Instagram followers while the U.S. team scored five total goals in five games.

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Neither the results nor the optics add up.

Though the ugliness of the 2024 process is still fresh, Matson says she fully intends to pursue a spot on the 2028 Olympic team, even if that requires upwards of two years playing for the national team — “One hundred percent,” she said — but as an organization, USA Field Hockey must examine its shortcomings at the international level.

“I think there’s got to be changes (in the system),” Matson said. “I won’t sugarcoat that. I don’t know how many times we’ve got to fail for people to say that, but like, you know, come on. So I think there’s going to be. But there’s definitely no question that I would love to do that. I know I can help.”

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Considering how fraught things turned through the spring, some will wonder what’s rectifiable.

“You don’t have to like me,” Matson said. “I’m not telling you to be my friend. I don’t need any more friends. I have support and I’m grateful. But why can’t we come to an understanding? Do we want to win or have the best chance to win? I don’t mean just here at the Olympics. Our sport needs to win.

“I’m not someone who lives in regret, gets hung up on that, or holds grudges. I truly believe if you want to grow or progress, you can’t be hung up on that stuff.”

In the meantime, Matson will keep coaching. In what felt like a wink to her detractors, she made a notable hire this summer. Romea Riccardo, who won five NCAA titles at UNC and graduated in December, was named as a full-time assistant coach on staff. Matson says Riccardo was to her what she was to Shelton. Once upon a time, the two were freshmen together.

“The argument from the schools that recruit against us is, ‘They’re a young staff; they have no idea what they’re doing,’” Matson said. “And you know, I always joke — don’t people know that we like a target on our back by now? If you just stay quiet and don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I’ll actually probably get less motivated. But if you keep telling me, oh, you’re too young, oh, you can’t do this and that — like, stop it, ‘cause you’re only hurting yourself.”

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The 2024 North Carolina season will start next week with the Tar Heels, again, a national title favorite. Matson says she knows perceptions. “That, oh, Erin is off gallivanting in Paris. Oh, Erin is out in LA at the ESPY Awards,” she said. “But I don’t think people understand that I know how fortunate I am, and I use these opportunities and ask, how can we be better, how can the sport get bigger?”

Maybe that’s possible. Or maybe it’s fantasy.

(Illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; photos: Andrew Katsampes / ISI Photos, Jamie Schwaberow / NCAA Photos via Getty Images)

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The Books We’re Excited About in Early 2025

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The Books We’re Excited About in Early 2025

A new year means new books to look forward to, and 2025 already promises a bounty — from the first volume of Bill Gates’s memoirs to a new novel by the reigning Nobel laureate, Han Kang, to a biography of Rosemary Woodruff Leary, the wife and psychedelic collaborator of the counterculture pioneer Timothy Leary.

On this week’s episode, Gilbert Cruz and Joumana Khatib talk about some of the upcoming books they’re most anticipating over the next several months.

Books discussed:

“Stone Yard Devotional,” by Charlotte Wood

“Silence,” by Pico Iyer

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“Onyx Storm,” by Rebecca Yarros

“Gliff,” by Ali Smith

“The Dream Hotel,” by Laila Lalami

“The Colony,” by Annika Norlin

“We Do Not Part,” by Han Kang

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“Playworld,” by Adam Ross

“Death of the Author,” by Nnedi Okorafor

“The Acid Queen: The Psychedelic Life and Counterculture Rebellion of Rosemary Woodruff Leary,” by Susannah Cahalan

“Tilt,” by Emma Pattee

“Dream Count,” by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

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“Hope: The Autobiography,” by Pope Francis

“Jesus Wept: Seven Popes and the Battle for the Soul of the Catholic Church,” by Philip Shenon

“The Antidote,” by Karen Russell

“Source Code,” by Bill Gates

“Great Big Beautiful Life,” by Emily Henry

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“Sunrise on the Reaping,” by Suzanne Collins

We would love to hear your thoughts about this episode, and about the Book Review’s podcast in general. You can send them to books@nytimes.com.

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Grand Slam prize money is enormous. The economics of tennis tournaments is complicated

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Grand Slam prize money is enormous. The economics of tennis tournaments is complicated

Four times a year, one of the biggest and most important tennis tournaments in the world sends out an announcement full of dollar signs and zeroes with the words “record prize money” scattered liberally.

The four Grand Slams, the first of which begins Sunday in Melbourne, are the high points of the tennis calendar. Players at the 2025 Australian Open will compete for $59million (£47m) this year — over $6.2m more than last year. In 2024, the four tournaments paid out over $250m between them, while their leaders spent the year aligning themselves with the players who make their events unmissable, whose gravity pulls in the broadcast deals and sponsorships, with their own dollar signs and zeroes.

Led by Australian Open chief Craig Tiley, the Grand Slams led the movement for a so-called premium tour which would pare down the overloaded tennis calendar and guarantee top players always being in the same events, let alone time zones. It would also lock swaths of the globe out of the worldwide spectacle that tennis represents.

The great irony is that despite the largesse and the cozy relationship, the players get a smaller cut of the money at the Grand Slams than they do in most of the rest of the rest of that hectic, endless season — and a fraction of what the best athletes in other sports collect from their events. The Australian Open’s prize pool amounts to about a 15-20 percent cut of the overall revenues of Tennis Australia, the organization that owns and stages the tournament, which accounts for nearly all of its annual revenue. The exact numbers at the French Open, Wimbledon and U.S. Open vary, but that essential split is roughly a constant. The 2023 U.S. Open had a prize pool of $65m against earned revenue from the tournament that came out at just over $514m, putting the cut at about 12 percent. The U.S. Open accounted for just under 90 percent of USTA revenues that year.

The explanations from the Grand Slams, which collectively generate over $1.5bn (£1.2bn) a year, run the gamut. They need to dedicate hundreds of millions of dollars each year to fund junior tennis development and other, less profitable tournaments in their respective nations — an obligation pro sports leagues don’t have. There is a constant need to upgrade their facilities, in the silent race for prestige and primacy of which the constant prize money one-upmanship is just one element.

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Aryna Sabalenka with her winner’s check at the 2024 U.S. Open. (Emaz / Corbis via Getty Images)

That dynamic is not lost on players — least of all Novak Djokovic, the top men’s player of the modern era and a co-founder of the five-year-old Professional Tennis Players Association (PTPA).

“I’m just going to state a fact,” Djokovic said during a post-match news conference in Brisbane last week.  “The pie split between the governing bodies in major sports, all major American sports, like NFL, NBA, baseball, NHL, is 50 percent. Maybe more, maybe less, but around 50 percent.

“Ours is way lower than that.”


Since 1968, the first year in which the four majors offered prize money as part of the Open Era’s embrace of professional tennis players, the purses have only grown. The 1968 French Open was the first to offer prize money, with Ken Rosewall earning just over $3,000 for beating Rod Laver in the final. The women’s singles champion, Nancy Richey, was still an amateur player, so could not claim her $1,000 prize. By 1973, lobbying from Billie Jean King helped convince the U.S. Open to make prize money equal for men and women through the draws; it took another 28 years for the Australian Open to do so year in, year out. Venus Williams’ intervention helped force the French Open and Wimbledon to follow suit in 2007.

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Fifty years after Rosewall’s triumph in Paris, the 2018 men’s champion Rafael Nadal took home $2.35million, an increase of over 73,000 percent. The year-on-year increases at each major are more modest, usually between 10 and 12 percent, but that percentage of tournament revenue remains steadfast, if not entirely immovable.

The Grand Slams argue that there are plenty of hungry mouths at their table, many more than just the 128 players that enter each singles draw each year.

Tennis Australia is a not-for-profit and a business model built on significant investment into delivering the event and promoting the sport to drive momentum on revenue and deliver consistently increasing prize money,” Darren Pearce, the organization’s chief spokesperson, said in a statement this week.

Money from the Australian Open also helps fund tournaments in Brisbane, Adelaide and Hobart, as well as the United Cup, the combined men’s and women’s event in Perth and Sydney. Pearce said the prize money increases outpace the revenue growth.

The Grand Slams also point to the millions of dollars they spend on player travel, housing, transportation and meals during tournaments, though team sport athletes receive those as well. Eloise Tyson, a spokesperson for the All England Lawn Tennis Club, which stages Wimbledon, noted that overall Grand Slam prize money had risen from $209million in 2022 to $254m last year, a 22 percent increase.

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“Alongside increasing our player compensation year-on-year, we continue to make significant investment into the facilities and services available for players and their teams at The Championships,” Tyson wrote in an email.

Officials with France’s tennis federation, the FFT, which owns the French Open, did not respond to a request for comment.

Brendan McIntyre, a spokesman for the United States Tennis Association, which owns the U.S. Open, released a statement this week touting the USTA’s pride in its leadership on player compensation, including offering equal prize money and the largest combined purse in tennis history at the 2024 US Open. A first-round exit earned $100,000, up 72 percent from 2019. Just making the qualifying draw was good for $25,000.

“As the national governing body for tennis in the U.S, we have a broader financial obligation to the sport as a whole,” the organization said.

“The USTA’s mission is to grow tennis at all levels, both in the U.S. and globally, and to make the sport accessible to all individuals in order to inspire healthier people and communities.”

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The infrastructure required to stage a Grand Slam tournament is vast — on and off the court. (Glen Davis / Getty Images)

None of the organizations outlined a specific formula for determining the amount of prize money they offered each year, which is roughly the same as a percentage of their parent organizations overall revenues. That may be a coincidence, though the Grand Slams also have the benefit of not facing any threat to their primacy.

The USTA’s statement gestures at how the structure of tennis contributes to this financial irony. In soccer, countries and cities bid to host the Champions League and World Cup finals; the Olympics changes every four years and even the Super Bowl in the NFL moves around the United States, with cities and franchises trying to one-up one another.

The four Grand Slams, though, are the four Grand Slams. There are good reasons for this beyond prestige: the infrastructure, both physical and learned, required to host a two- or three-week event at the scale of a major year in, year out is available to a vanishingly small number of tennis facilities around the world. There is no opportunity for another organization or event to bid to replace one of the Grand Slams by offering a richer purse or other amenities.

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This dynamic has been in place for years and has become more important in recent months. The PTPA has hired a group of antitrust lawyers to evaluate the structure of tennis. The lawyers are compiling a report on whether the the sport includes elements that are anti-competitive, preparing for a possible litigation with the potential to remake the sport.

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The ATP and WTA Tours, which sanction 250-, 500- and 1000-level events as well as the end-of-season Tour Finals, give players a larger share of revenue. There is some disagreement between players and officials over how much it is and the methods of accounting; some player estimates hover around 25 percent, while tour estimates can be in the range of 40 percent. Both remain short of the team equivalents in the United States.

On the ATP Tour, the nine 1000-level tournaments have a profit-sharing agreement that, in addition to prize money, gives players 50 percent of the profits under an agreed-upon accounting formula that sets aside certain revenues and subtracts certain costs, including investments the tournaments make in their facilities. The WTA does not have such an agreement. It outlines a complex prize money formula in its rule book with pages of exceptions, not based on a guaranteed share of overall tour revenues.

The tours have argued that because media rights payments constitute a lower percentage of revenues than at the Grand Slams, and because the costs of putting on tournaments are so high, a 50-50 revenue share would simply turn some tournaments into loss-making entities and make tennis unsustainable as a sport.

James Quinn, one of the antitrust lawyers hired by the PTPA, said he saw serious problems with the model, describing a structure that prevents competition from rival tournaments.

Some events outside the 52-week program of tournaments — which see players earn ranking points as well as money — have official status (the Laver Cup is sanctioned by the ATP). But the remainder, such as the Six Kings Slam in Riyadh, which debuted this year and offered record prize money of over $6million to the winner, are not sanctioned, for now providing only a peripheral form of competition to ruling bodies’ control of the sport.

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Jannik Sinner took home the money at the inaugural Six Kings Slam in Riyadh. (Richard Pelham / Getty Images)

The Grand Slams, ATP and WTA insist this is for the best. They see themselves as caretakers of global sport trying to bring some order where chaos might otherwise reign.

Djokovic doesn’t totally disagree. He understands tennis is different from the NBA. He’s led the Player Council at the ATP, which represents male professionals, and he has seen how the sausage gets made and how complicated it is with so many tournaments of all shapes and sizes in so many countries. At the end of the day, he still thinks players deserve more than a 20-percent cut, especially since the Grand Slams don’t make the kinds of contributions to player pension plans or end-of-the-year bonus pools that the ATP does, nor do they provide the year-round support of the WTA.

“It’s not easy to get everybody in the same room and say, ‘OK, let’s agree on a certain percentage,’” he said of the leaders of tournaments.

“We want more money, (but) they maybe don’t want to give us as much money when we talk about the prize money. There are so many different layers of the prize money that you have to look into. It’s not that simple.”

(Photos: Kelly Delfina / Getty Images, Steven / PA via Getty Images; design: Dan Goldfarb)

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6 New Books We Recommend This Week

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6 New Books We Recommend This Week

Our recommended books this week tilt heavily toward European culture and history, with a new history of the Vikings, a group biography of the Tudor queens’ ladies-in-waiting, a collection of letters from the Romanian-born French poet Paul Celan and a biography of the great German writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. We also recommend a fascinating true-crime memoir (written by the criminal in question) and, in fiction, Rebecca Kauffman’s warmhearted new novel about a complicated family. Happy reading. — Gregory Cowles

One of Europe’s most important postwar poets, Celan remains as intriguing as he is perplexing more than 50 years after his death. The autobiographical underpinnings of his work were beyond the reach of general readers until the 1990s, when the thousands of pages of Celan’s letters began to appear. The scholar Bertrand Badiou compiled the poet’s correspondence with his wife, the French graphic artist Gisèle Lestrange-Celan, and that collection is now available for the first time in English, translated by Jason Kavett.

NYRB Poets | Paperback, $28


Wilson’s biography of the German polymath Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) approaches its subject through his masterpiece and life’s work, the verse drama “Faust” — widely considered perhaps the single greatest work of German literature, stuffed to its limits with philosophical and earthy meditations on human existence.

Bloomsbury Continuum | $35

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Through a series of vignettes, Kauffman’s fifth novel centers on a woman determined to spend Christmas with her extended family, including her future grandchild and ex-husband, and swivels to take in the perspectives of each family member in turn.


People love the blood-soaked sagas that chronicle the deeds of Viking raiders. But Barraclough, a British historian and broadcaster, looks beyond those soap-opera stories to uncover lesser-known details of Old Norse civilization beginning in A.D. 750 or so.

Norton | $29


Fifteen years ago, Ferrell gained a dubious fame after The New York Observer identified her as the “hipster grifter” who had prowled the Brooklyn bar scene scamming unsuspecting men even as she was wanted in Utah on felony fraud charges. Now older, wiser and released from jail, Ferrell emerges in this captivating, sharp and very funny memoir to detail her path from internet notoriety to self-knowledge.

St. Martin’s | $29

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In her lively and vivid group biography of the women who served Henry VIII’s queens, Clarke, a British author and historian, finds a compelling side entrance into the Tudor industrial complex, showing that behind all the grandeur the royal court was human-size and small.

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