Driving through Vienna yesterday morning on my way to a business meeting, I found myself marveling at the enormous houses rising in neighborhoods that, when I was growing up, were unmistakably middle-class. Vienna kids, especially the boys who played for Madison High School, always struck us as tough, disciplined, and unpretentious. Last weekend I interviewed Madison head coach Justin Counts, a man with years of success and what seems like a library’s worth of football wisdom. The school, and generations of players, have been fortunate to have him.
As practices begin this week, it is hard not to notice how the economics of football have changed.
Talent still matters most. Coaching still matters enormously. But resources matter more than they once did.
When I was growing up, many of Northern Virginia’s strongest football programs came from communities that were largely middle- or working-class. Toughness seemed almost part of the local geography. Today, many of the region’s perennial contenders are found in some of its most affluent school districts. That is not an accident.
There is an irony in that. Football has long been celebrated as the game of factory towns, mill towns, farming communities, and blue-collar suburbs. Yet as the sport has become increasingly professionalized, many of its strongest public-school programs are now found in some of America’s wealthiest ZIP codes.
Private position coaches, year-round strength programs, speed training, nutrition, seven-on-seven leagues, specialized camps, film services, and increasingly sophisticated equipment all require time and disposable income. None guarantees success. Together, however, they create meaningful advantages.
Last year I read about athletes in parts of Appalachia who faced a very different calculation. Some had to choose between football and jobs that helped support their families. An injury was not merely a setback on the field; it could mean medical bills, lost wages, or both. The opportunity cost of playing sports looked very different, even in an area that loves its sports.
Families across America now invest extraordinary sums in youth athletics, hoping for scholarships, or opportunities created by the changing economics of college sports. But affluent communities offer something beyond money. They offer freedom from competing obligations. Their athletes are less likely to choose between practice and a paycheck, or between rehabilitation and paying the bills. They can devote themselves more completely to development.
None of this diminishes the work of great coaches or the commitment of the players themselves. Success is still earned. But the starting line is changing.
Middle-class Vienna produced tough football players.
Today’s wealthier Vienna continues to produce outstanding teams.
The game has not changed nearly as much as the geography of opportunity has.