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The news that Novak Djokovic has withdrawn from the French Open with a torn meniscus was one of those moments at Roland Garros where the gasps were audible.

It wasn’t a huge shock given Djokovic said he was unsure if he would play his quarterfinal after picking up the injury in a fourth-round win over Francisco Cerundolo. Still, to lose the world No. 1 and defending champion in this manner is huge.

But what are the implications of Djokovic’s withdrawal — for him, the event, and the sport in general?

What it means for Novak Djokovic

What is Djokovic’s injury?

Djokovic withdrew from the French Open on Tuesday with a tear in the medial meniscus of his right knee. The meniscus is a semicircle of cartilage that sits on the inside half of the knee joint. It’s an extremely common injury among active adults, especially middle-aged men, and can bring varying amounts of pain.

In tennis players, especially over a long playing career, it’s more likely that any tear will be a slow degeneration that gets aggravated rather than a sudden, acute tear. Roger Federer and Jo-Wilfried Tsonga are among the players who have had surgery on a torn meniscus in the last few years while in their mid-30s, even if the former was a freak injury while running the bath for his kids.

Recovery does not always involve surgery. Some people opt to avoid surgery – which can produce long-term complications like scarring and arthritis – and recover with physical therapy by building up the muscles around the knee. Whether that is an option can depend on the severity of the tear, and even if it’s not, the type of surgery also depends on the severity of the damage, whether acute or built up over time.

American No. 1 Taylor Fritz played at Wimbledon 23 days after an operation on a meniscus injury, but that was treated with a debridement, which trims the damaged section of the meniscus. If Djokovic’s injury is too severe for that, a full repair using stitches will be required, which extends the recovery time into months.

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Novak Djokovic withdraws from French Open with knee injury

What are Djokovic and his team saying about his injury?

Not much. The team was still absorbing the diagnosis and the reality of Djokovic not being able to continue defending his title on Tuesday evening and there was no immediate decision about whether he would undergo surgery.

There is lingering anger over the decision by tournament organisers not to listen to Djokovic’s warnings that the courts were becoming dangerously slippery because of the constant rain during the past week and then the quick shift to dry conditions Saturday night and Monday afternoon when he played.

About an hour after the tournament announced the withdrawal, Djokovic posted on Instagram confirming the nature of the injury and added: “My team and I had to make a tough decision after careful consideration and consultation.”

When will Djokovic return to tennis?

It’s too early to tell. Meniscus tears vary in severity. Needless to say, if Djokovic does appear at Wimbledon on July 1, he likely will not be as formidable a force as he has been for more than a decade when he has solidified his position as the world’s best grass-court player.

After Wimbledon, the tennis world’s focus turns to the Olympics at the end of July, where Djokovic will be desperate to win a first-ever gold medal at the Games.

What it means for the French Open

What does this mean for the French Open draw?

Djokovic’s withdrawal blows the top half of the draw wide open. Casper Ruud, the runner-up for the past two years, has a bye to the semifinals, where he will play the winner of the quarterfinal between Alexander Zverev and Alex de Minaur. Zverev is looking to reach a fourth straight Roland Garros semifinal, while de Minaur had never gone beyond the second round here until this year.

What does this mean for tennis more widely?

Whatever happens, there will be a new winner of this event for the first time since 2016, when Djokovic won his first title. Djokovic’s withdrawal also extends his difficult start to the year, where he is yet to reach a final. It’s the first time since 2018 that he has entered both of the first two Grand Slams of the year and won neither.

It also means a new ATP Tour world No. 1, with Jannik Sinner guaranteed to take that spot come Monday, June 10, achieving the milestone for the first time in his career.

Djokovic’s ranking position may tumble further. He has 1,200 points to defend at Wimbledon, 1,000 at Cincinnati, and 2,000 at the U.S. Open, making for a total of 4,200. Should he not be able to compete at those events, he will lose all his points from them (in addition to the 1,600 points coming off on Monday after his relatively early exit here), and his ranking would be down at around No. 8 in the world.

He would then be touch and go to even make November’s ATP Finals for the top-eight players of the year and in line for his worst year-end ranking since he finished just outside the top 10 in 2017 after an injury-ravaged season.

Two-time losing finalist Casper Ruud is straight into the semifinals (Dimitar Dilkoff / AFP via Getty Images)

What does this mean for the French Open organisers?

Djokovic pulling out is a nightmare for the French Tennis Federation (FFT).

He blamed the tournament and “very slippery” court for his injury on Monday and said his team would be speaking to the relevant event staff. The strength of feeling from the Djokovic camp was still there on Tuesday.

Djokovic’s exit also dramatically increases the chances of Zverev being crowned the champion on Sunday. Zverev, the No. 4 seed, is defending himself in a court hearing in Berlin over allegations that he abused a former girlfriend during an argument in 2020.

In October, the Berlin criminal court issued a penalty order, fining him €450,000 ($489,000; £384,000) in connection with the charges from Brenda Patea, a model and social media personality who is the mother of his daughter. Zverev denies the charges. In Germany, a prosecutor can seek a penalty order on cases it considers simple because there is compelling evidence that it should not require a trial.

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Alexander Zverev is a French Open favorite – while his domestic abuse hearing begins

The defendant has a right to contest the order, which Zverev has done. On Friday, the court hearing began in Berlin, which Zverev did not have to attend. It continued on Monday, with Patea’s testimony given behind closed doors, and will carry on during a series of non-consecutive dates this month and next.

Unlike other league sports, the ATP Tour and tennis in general do not have a formal policy on domestic abuse. Zverev winning one of the biggest prizes in the sport would be an extremely uncomfortable situation for the tournament and the sport as a whole.

What do the players think?

Taking a quarterfinal off the schedule doesn’t really do much good for anyone. For Ruud himself, it means a potentially rhythm-disrupting three days off, while for spectators with day tickets for Wednesday, it means they are a singles match short. For Zverev and de Minaur, whoever advances to face Ruud may perceive themselves to be at a disadvantage. A withdrawal at this stage of the tournament — similar to the semifinal withdrawal of Rafael Nadal from Wimbledon in 2022 — immediately invites questions over sporting integrity.

One solution would be for Cerundolo, the man Djokovic beat, to be reinstated. The “lucky loser” already exists in tennis: players who lose in qualifying before main draws begin can stick around at the tournament venue and still enter the event if a player in the first round withdraws.

This concept hasn’t been applied to the actual tournaments. When asked about the possibility, semifinalist Sinner made the argument that is most often presented in opposition: “He lost already, no?”

Although reinstating the 23rd seed would bring back a match for spectators, and it would be hard to argue that Cerundolo would not be a deserving winner if he got through three elite players, it’s an imperfect solution. Djokovic, despite his injury, beat him fair and square to pick up the ranking points and prize money attached. In tennis, these are the breaks.

(Top photo: Ibrahim Ezzat / NurPhoto via Getty Images)

BOSTON — Before his new team had even seen the court, Kristaps Porziņģis was already competing.

At media day, players are shuttled through a circuit of interviews, news conferences and photoshoots. It’s a complicated operation that’s held up if one of the many moving parts stalls.

When the new guy, Porziņģis, came across a Ping-Pong table, he decided nobody could continue to the next stop until they beat him.

“I would say I’m a level above legendary,” Porziņģis told The Athletic with a laugh. “No, I’m decent. But I have some holes in my game that I need to improve. My backhand is a little suspect. My forehand is super dangerous, but I need to get my backhand better.”

In the past, Porziņģis’ confidence and competitiveness were often conflated with ego. When things fell apart in Dallas, where he played from January 2019 to February 2022, the perception that he was a bad teammate made its way around the league.

“I think every player has ego, right?” Porziņģis said. “You have to have it. It just needs to be under control. I think the older you are, the easier it is to understand the whole picture.”

After he turned his career around over a season-plus in Washington, Boston took a gamble he could join its locker room dynamic and embrace it. In Dallas, things never quite clicked with Luka Dončić. So, Porziņģis made it a point to start on the right foot with Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum.

“They were open to me here. There was not any kind of tension,” Porziņģis said. “I told them from Day 1, I’m coming in here to help you guys win. That’s all I’m here for and whatever it takes. If it takes me sitting on the bench or coming off the bench or whatever, then I’m here for it.”

Early in his career, Porziņģis was on a trajectory toward stardom. Then he went to Dallas, where things didn’t go as planned thanks to injuries and fit, and he had to start over.

His stint with the Wizards helped him find his identity. Boston gave him a chance for a renaissance.

“As a basketball player, I’m coming in pretty ready, entering my prime. But definitely, as a person, this year has been an interesting year for me outside of basketball,” said Porziņģis, 28. “But I think it was necessary. You always learn something, right? You’re like, ‘Oh, man, the way I was thinking two years ago.’ And it’s always evolving as a person.”

He wanted to try something different. He had previously lived with his brother, Janis, or his partner each season. But when he moved to Boston, he was solo.

“This is my first year where I’m completely alone. The winter is dark. It was just a long winter,” Porziņģis said. “Now that the weather is better and your friends are visiting, it’s different. But that (winter) came with a lot of time to just think about my own stuff. So this was a lonely season for me in a way.”

But with that loneliness came a focus on the team. Porziņģis formed an instant bond with his neighbor Brown, who lives in the same building.

“I think my experience helped us get on track right away to have a pretty smooth start,” Porziņģis said. “You saw early in the year, me and JB, we clicked right away (on the court) on a lot of those like back doors and then two-man games.”

Porziņģis said he studied Brown’s and Tatum’s games and spent time working with them to learn their spots on the floor. He soon understood where to set their screens, how to roll and then where to find them once the defense had to respond.

It was apparent early in the season that Porziņģis would be taking fewer shots than at any point since his rookie season. He leaned into it and the Celtics took off.

“A lot of the big guys may be stuck in their ways doing what makes them comfortable,” Tatum said. “He got outside his comfort zone a little bit and it made us a better team.”

Porziņģis wanted to win a playoff series, something he had never done. The Celtics’ goal was clear: Banner No. 18 or bust.

After a relatively healthy season, Porziņģis suffered a soleus strain in his right calf muscle in Game 4 against Miami and still has not taken the floor beyond the first round.

But as he plans to return for the NBA Finals against Dallas, which begins Thursday in Boston, he’ll have to revisit his past to complete his journey.

Before Porziņģis got to Dallas, his ascension in New York made him the face of the Knicks once Carmelo Anthony was gone. Even as the team struggled to win and he struggled to stay healthy, it felt like the Knicks were becoming his team.

“Obviously coming from New York, the younger you are, the more I think you make it about yourself. Kind of like, this is who I am and this is how it needs to be or whatever,” Porziņģis said. “And then on top of that, you have that big city like New York build you up even more, right? Like, everybody that plays in New York feels like they’re bigger than they actually are. It’s that hype of the city, right?”

But then he tore his ACL, the Knicks traded him to Dallas, and he was no longer the guy. Both Porziņģis and the Mavs were betting he would return to form and become the partner Dončić needed to lift the team to contention. Even though Dallas gave him a five-year max deal, he had to fit with the nascent superstar.

Coach Rick Carlisle wanted to build a five-out system that spaced Porziņģis to the corners, but his game was based on the post up until that point. As Porziņģis’ injuries continued and Dallas needed a consistent offensive identity, Carlisle publicly declared it mathematically did not make sense to post him up.

“So it was just kind of like, boom, we’re not going to do this, it’s not effective. But maybe if Rick knew that I could be this effective, he would have had more patience,” Porziņģis said. “So I just really improved my game in the post and probably if I were the player that I am right now (when I went) to Dallas, Rick would look at it differently. I take responsibility for that and Luka was playing out of his mind. So, of course, we wanted to play through Luka and I was just there to support him.”

Their teammates in Dallas maintained that Dončić and Porziņģis got along fine off the court, but that the timing of Dončić being in his early 20s and Porziņģis constantly being hurt strained the on-court chemistry.

“I think if another person could have delivered the message to get them to play well, it would have worked out,” former Mavs teammate Dorian Finney-Smith said. “But where they both was at in their career, it was just rough.”

After being built up as a star in New York, Porziņģis accepted it would be Dončić’s team. But it was hard to embrace being away from the action.

“Coming from being the guy in New York when I was with him, he went to Dallas and they didn’t know how to mesh, I guess,” said Mavs wing Tim Hardaway Jr., who came to Dallas in the trade with Porziņģis. “Once you embrace that and realize that and accept your role, then everything will take care of itself and that’s what he’s done.”

Porziņģis said he understood quickly that while they could make it work, “it was just not going to work.” Once Dallas sent him to Washington in February 2022, he was determined to have things go right this time.

Some of his Wizards teammates expected he would bring ego to a team mired in mediocrity. While Porziņģis had come up short in Dallas, Washington hadn’t had a winning record since 2017-18.

“He came into the locker room the first day and it was clear that a lot of those things that were said about him about how he was not a great teammate, everything was totally the opposite,” former Wizards teammate Anthony Gill said. “He was one of the greatest teammates we’ve had here. He was unbelievable, man.”

Porziņģis would frequently get dinner with Gill and Deni Avdija on road trips, discussing life outside of basketball. Gill was surprised to learn that while Porziņģis was one of the most competitive players on the team, he also was childish and goofy.

“One thing he always did tell us is that I couldn’t fall into that trap of believing the narrative that’s always put out about players,” Gill said. “Because it can be the total opposite once you get to meet them.”

Porziņģis was able to reinvent himself and his game in Washington. (Rich Storry / USA Today)

When Porziņģis arrived in Boston, he and Celtics head coach Joe Mazzulla talked. The coach wanted him to be open about new roles and strategies. Mazzulla wanted to hone a system influenced by soccer that was more responsive to the opponent.

Open-mindedness would become a heuristic for processing everything, from expectations coming into a game down to reading the defense. Mazzulla wanted Porziņģis to see everything he did as part of creating an advantage.

“KP is (open-minded) because he’s European, so he watches (soccer), he watches UFC, he watches European basketball,” Mazzulla told The Athletic. “Those principles, he has learned really his whole life.”

In Dallas, he struggled to get deep post position and score over bigs. No problem. That was no longer a part of his job description.

The Celtics needed him to post up when he had a clear advantage, but they would help create those for him. The big man learned in Washington he could now effectively post up small defenders who switched and be a hub for Bradley Beal and others cutting around him. Porziņģis had enough of a base to shoot on balance with defenders underneath him. The fadeaways were gone, making it easier to link up with Beal once the ball was in his hands.

“KP’s special. That type of size, touch and versatility, I’m using that,” Beal said. “Even let him handle a little in those mini brush screens for him to come off and get going. So it was easy for me. He definitely revived himself last year with us, just being aggressive, finding his niche.”

The Celtics wanted to build a versatile team that could revolve around Porziņģis in the middle. They had guards who could post up, protect the rim or even live in the dunker spot behind the hoop. Once they replaced Robert Williams III and Malcolm Brogdon with Jrue Holiday, every player in their core rotation was a knockdown 3-point shooter.

His objective on offense was to force teams to switch, catch the ball at the free-throw line, and then shoot or pass over however many bodies were in front of him. His decision-making became easier because Boston surrounded him with so much talent and he was willing to sacrifice shots to keep the offense moving. As long as he could see the basket from his 7-foot-2 perch above the fray, defenses struggled to deter him.

Even though Porziņģis had never won a playoff series, Boston thought he could be the key to winning. After years of the Celtics’ crunchtime leads vanishing with the season on the line in the playoffs, Porziņģis was going to be their panacea.

“To me, it was more about the end game at the critical moments in the playoffs,” Mazzulla said. “Teams are going to switch, so how can we be ready to combat that?”

Boston had trouble maintaining its offense when playoff defenses ramped up to championship levels. Tatum and Brown struggled to find open lanes and clean looks when they couldn’t beat their man and the opposition knew how it wanted to help. Disrupting the Celtics’ rhythm was the key, which Miami and Golden State figured out and executed.

Mazzulla designed the offense to mimic late-game execution with a mantra to think fast and play slow. Whether they got a stop on defense, they would push the ball up the floor quickly, scope out a crossmatch and then get Porziņģis involved to punish it.

“We didn’t know going into the season how teams were going to guard him, so we were pretty open-minded to just seeing how that goes,” Mazzulla said. “But we knew the endgame was end of a game, end of a series, switching, how do we incorporate him into that?”

Most of the Celtics’ playbook is formations with an initial action, with various permutations improvised based on how the defense covers it. Mazzulla often scans the floor to see the matchups when his team gets the possession and will call out a play.

It didn’t take long for him to get a feel for how to use Porziņģis to maximize that leverage. Some teams would just switch and accept Porziņģis was getting a cross-match. Others would run a standard drop coverage and wait until the last second to veer him, which is a delayed switch.

Either way, Porziņģis often got to that spot at the nail where he could put the ball over his head and read the floor. As a result, Boston’s clutch net rating jumped from 4.6 last regular season to 15.4 in 2023-24, per NBA Stats.

Porziņģis became the focal point of one of Boston’s go-to plays, “Octagon.” It’s a play where he sets a screen for a ballhandler on the elbow with the other three Celtics spaced around the other side of the floor.

Because Porziņģis is screening a defender against the sideline with no help close by, it makes it easy for him to force the switch. From there, the defense either doubles so he can pass out, or he can work on a smaller defender.

“We have so many weapons that are so clutch, that all five of us can make something happen,” Porziņģis said. “It’s a nightmare for the other team, to be honest.”

As he prepares to make his NBA Finals debut, he’ll be the only player in the Celtics rotation who hasn’t been there before. But Mazzulla insists that for this team, the playoffs are the same as the regular season. Their system was designed, through Porziņģis, based on that principle.

“At this point in my career, I’m not chasing another contract, I don’t have these crazy expectations,” Porziņģis said. “I’m settling into who I am as a person, as a basketball player. I have my contract signed. It’s like the perfect situation for us to just go and win. And those things adding up at the right time, these guys entering their prime, it’s a perfect storm.”

Porziņģis recognizes that for the first time in his career he is not one of the franchise cornerstones. Brown and Tatum will lead, while Porziņģis plans to do what he’s done all season and embrace his role.

Just like his forehand, Porziņģis honed his game in the post to be “super dangerous.” The backhand was everything else that came with being talented in the NBA and not always getting your way.

Now he has his contract and a role he enjoys. He can be secure in who he is and how his career is going. Now there is only one thing left for him to chase.

“Those two guys (Tatum and Brown) leading us, we were a tough team to start and our record speaks for itself,” Porziņģis said. “But it won’t mean much if we don’t go all the way and that is our goal.”

(Top photo: Maddie Meyer / Getty Images)

A love story. Florentino Perez called it a love story. Speaking to reporters on his way out of Wembley Stadium after Saturday’s Champions League final, the Real Madrid president sounded like a man in thrall to the mystique, the allure and the romance of a relationship that has spanned seven decades and so many special times.

“It’s a magnificent night, because this competition is the one we like the most,” Perez said after Madrid, 2-0 winners over Borussia Dortmund, were crowned European champions for the 15th time. “It was created by Santiago Bernabeu (the club’s president from 1943 to 1978) along with L’Equipe newspaper, and it made us important in the world. Some (clubs) leave and others come, but this competition is very much ours.”

There is a beautiful story there: the all-conquering Madrid team that won the first five European Cups from 1956-60, inspired by Paco Gento, Alfredo Di Stefano and Ferenc Puskas; a sixth title in 1966, and then an unthinkable 32-year wait before three more around the turn of the century, won by a team illuminated by the homegrown Raul Gonzalez and embellished by the arrivals of Luis Figo and Zinedine Zidane before the Perez-driven galacticos project lost its way; their re-emergence over the past decade with a side initially built around Cristiano Ronaldo and other A-list talents, but now extensively rebuilt around the young talent of Vinicius Junior, Rodrigo, Jude Bellingham and, coming soon, a bona fide galactico in Kylian Mbappe.

No club have contributed more to the game’s growth in the European Cup era. Equally, no club have grown more with the game. It is, on one level, a beautiful relationship, particularly when they are led by coaches such as Carlo Ancelotti and Zidane, whose personal history with the competition dates back to their illustrious playing careers.

But it is a strange kind of love story when Perez appears intent on killing the Champions League as we know it.

He has the European football landscape he dreamed of — a vast and enormously lucrative competition, so elitist that it now attracts talk of fairytales if the second-biggest club in Germany make it to the final — but it is still not enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

One way or another, European football is approaching a tipping point.

It has felt that way for several years now, as if the unprecedented financial advantages enjoyed by the biggest, richest, most powerful clubs in the biggest, richest, most powerful leagues just aren’t enough anymore.

Perez wants the European Cup to be replaced by a Super League. Why? “We are doing this to save football at this critical moment,” he told Spanish television show El Chiringuito around the time of the failed Super League launch in the spring of 2021. “If we continue with the Champions League, there is less and less interest, and then it’s over. The new format which starts in 2024 is absurd. In 2024, we are all dead.”

And now here we are in 2024. Perez is still pushing the Super League project, emboldened and encouraged by the outcome of the latest court case in Spain, and continuing to wage war on UEFA, the game’s governing body on this continent, which he has accused of running a “monopoly” on European football.

UEFA, for its part, has responded to the constant demands for more matches by introducing a new Champions League format from next season: the so-called “Swiss model”, where 36 teams will play eight games each, not in a group format but in a notional 36-team “league” from which 24 of them progress to the knockout phase. This is what Perez has described as “absurd”. And he might well be right.

It sounds… bloated, convoluted, unwieldy, all the things that European competition should not be. It looks like a forlorn, misguided attempt to go with the flow when what the game really needed was for UEFA to do the impossible by stemming and reversing the tide.

It is designed to placate the demands of the biggest, richest, most powerful clubs.

Some of us would say UEFA has acceded far too much over the past two decades in particular, creating a financial model that has created a chronic competitive imbalance between leagues and within leagues. Perez and others have already concluded next season’s reforms don’t go anything like far enough.

Sitting at Wembley on Saturday evening, soaking up the atmosphere created by their supporters, it felt like something of a throwback to see Dortmund in the final again. If it felt that way the previous time they got there, in 2013, when Jurgen Klopp characterised them as a “workers’ club” against a commercial juggernaut in fellow German side Bayern Munich, it certainly felt that way when they played Real Madrid in this season’s showpiece.

It was similar when Inter Milan reached the final against Manchester City last season. Inter have won the European Cup as many times (three) as Manchester United and indeed they have won it more recently, but they too seem to have been left behind in the modern era. The latter stages of the Champions League felt like their natural habitat in the 2000s. By 2023, reaching the semi-finals, never mind the final, seemed extraordinary.

And that is Dortmund and Inter — never mind other former giants such as Benfica, Porto and Ajax (to say nothing of Celtic, Red Star Belgrade and the rest). The 21st-century financial landscape has put these clubs far beyond most of their domestic rivals but unable to compete financially with even mid-ranking Premier League clubs, let alone the Champions League elite.

GO DEEPER

What comes next for Borussia Dortmund?

The European game is at such a strange point in its history.

The football itself is frequently enthralling, highly technical and played at an astonishing speed, but the structure of the sport’s European model feels increasingly broken: by greed, by entitlement, by the biggest clubs demanding an ever greater share of revenue and ever more protection against underperformance. Attempts to preserve wild-card places for underperforming big clubs have so far been resisted, but that is clearly the direction of travel.

Dortmund reaching the final feels almost like a fairytale in the modern game (Alex Pantling/Getty Images)

UEFA’s solution, as always, is to give the elite more of what they want — but not enough to please most of them. The solution proposed by Perez and others is for the most powerful clubs to wrestle power from UEFA and to be allowed to do as they please.

“To fix a problem, you have to first recognise that you have a problem,” Perez said in 2021, before making clear his belief that European football’s issue was not dubious ownership models, nor the spread of multi-club networks, a bulging fixture calendar or a chronic financial and competitive imbalance across the continent. The only problem he was interested in was the one that could be solved by “top-level games year-round, with the best players competing”.

But Perez doesn’t necessarily mean “top-level games” between the best teams of the day. He wants the most marketable matches.

If he feels short-changed by a Champions League campaign in which Madrid faced Napoli, Braga, Union Berlin, RB Leipzig, City, Bayern and Dortmund, you suspect he would be happier to have played Juventus and Liverpool (who didn’t qualify), Manchester United (who were knocked out in the group stage) and Barcelona (beaten in the quarter-finals).

Provided his team still ended up winning, of course.

Two great contradictions arise from the past decade of European competition.

The first, much discussed elsewhere and not greatly relevant to this article, is that this period of Madrid domination, unprecedented in the Champions League era, has felt strange as far as the quality of their performances is concerned.

It is undoubtedly strange that they have come to dominate an era while rarely dominating their matches against top-class opponents. It must leave Pep Guardiola wondering how on earth, beyond the small margins of knockout football, his City side have just one European Cup to show for their sustained excellence over the past seven seasons.

The second contradiction — perhaps linked to the first, perhaps not — is that, in an era when the biggest clubs have enjoyed access to revenue streams that were previously beyond their wildest dreams, several of them have lost their way due to serious mismanagement.

Barcelona, Madrid’s fiercest rivals, have flirted with financial calamity and have reached the Champions League semi-finals just once in the past eight seasons; Manchester United have reached just two quarter-finals in the past 13 seasons under the Glazer family’s miserable, directionless ownership; Juventus reached the final in 2015 and 2017 while in the midst of winning nine consecutive Serie A titles, but they have fallen away from the top tier of European football as ownership and management issues escalated.

It is almost as if some of these ownership regimes became so fixated on driving up revenue streams and reimagining European football’s future that they lost sight of their own club’s present.

That is not an accusation that could be levelled at the Perez regime.

Obsessed as he might be by his Super League dream and his power struggle with UEFA, he has overseen Madrid’s evolution into a club that plays the transfer market shrewdly, always looking for the next big talents in world football (Vinicius Jr, Rodrigo, Bellingham, incoming Brazilian teenager Endrick) and always respecting experience and knowledge while recognising when it is right to let a fading A-list talent grow old at another club’s expense.

Barcelona and Manchester United, from a broadly similar financial position, have spent enormous sums of money in a wildly erratic manner and allowed dysfunction to take hold. By contrast, Madrid have established a clear vision, made good appointments and built a winning environment.

They have also without question ridden their luck at times in the Champions League. That needs to be emphasised: both the luck they have had in some of their winning campaigns (not least the last two) and the assurance Ancelotti and his players have shown in being able to ride it. In some of the individual success stories — Ancelotti, Nacho, Dani Carvajal, Toni Kroos, Vinicius Jr, Bellingham — there is so much to like.

The most uplifting stories of the past few seasons in European football, though, have come away from the Champions League’s spotlight, with Europa League final successes for Villarreal, Eintracht Frankfurt, Sevilla and Atalanta, as well as the success of the initially derided third-tier Conference League, which Roma, West Ham United and Olympiacos have won in its first three years.

The joy in those celebrations, particularly after Olympiacos beat Fiorentina in the Conference League final last week, was truly something to behold.

It has shown there is still life and ambition among those clubs who have been conditioned to accept their place in the game’s 21st-century order and be grateful for whatever crumbs might fall from the top table.

Former Juventus chairman Andrea Agnelli once infamously asked whether Atalanta truly merited a place in the Champions League while on their way to a third consecutive third-placed finish in Serie A. When it comes to outperforming expectations and resources over recent seasons, few clubs in Europe have been more deserving.

Surely that is the lesson for European football to draw from the past decade: that, in 2024, there still has to be such a thing as upward mobility, that a club like Olympiacos can win a European trophy, that clubs like Atalanta, Bologna and Aston Villa can still reach the Champions League, that a club like Bayer Leverkusen can break Bayern’s monopoly of the Bundesliga. In an era when hope has been crushed — when Bayern have been able to sleepwalk their way to some of their 11 consecutive Bundesliga titles, often sacking coaches as they go — Leverkusen’s success under Xabi Alonso has been particularly inspiring.

Olympiacos fans celebrated their own European triumph in huge numbers (Giorgos Arapekos/NurPhoto via Getty Images)

But such love stories rarely seem to endure these days. It seems inevitable that, before long, Leverkusen will fall prey to those clubs higher up the food chain, seeing their best players whisked away, just as Klopp’s Dortmund team did, just like the Monaco team of 2016-17 or the Ajax of 2018-19 did. Maybe their manager, too.

And at the very top of that food chain are Madrid, the sport’s apex predator, now champions of Europe for a 15th time, somehow re-establishing their dominance in an era when they felt threatened like never before.

Leaving the stadium after Saturday’s final, it was hard to escape the feeling that European football, having allowed its problems to pile up over a long period of time, is entering a period of uncertainty and seismic change.

This convoluted “Swiss format” will be the most inescapable change in next season’s Champions League, but, whether it has the desired effect or not, you can imagine the Super League mob clinging to its success or failure as irrefutable evidence of the need for radical reform.

The game needs proper leadership. It needs someone to stand up and fight for tradition, for jeopardy, for the romance that runs through the history of European competition.

Hearing his heartening words on his way out of Wembley, you might have imagined that person would be the 77-year-old president of Real Madrid, the man who talks fondly and reverently about the European Cup and his club’s enormous contribution to it.

But no, Florentino Perez has a different perspective on that relationship these days. As love stories go, it’s increasingly complicated.

GO DEEPER

Real Madrid’s Champions League party: Speeches, cigars, Carvajal’s dad on horseback

(Top photo: Visionhaus/Getty Images)

There were streakers, kissers and wannabe prize fighters. There were arrests, threats and flying chairs. There were bruises, there was blood and there was beer. So, so much beer.

There was plenty of blame to pass around: the fans, the umpires, the team officials, the managers, local broadcasters and radio hosts. Oh, and according to one Cleveland resident, the real instigator causing that evening’s mayhem? The moon. And that’s not a reference to the fans who yanked down their pants and showed Rangers players their backsides.

Fifty years ago, chaos descended upon Municipal Stadium on 10-Cent Beer Night. Now, the infamous events of June 4, 1974, when an alcohol-fueled crowd spilled onto the field, confronted players and forced a forfeit, are often viewed in a light-hearted manner, the stuff of commemorative T-shirts and parodied ballpark promotions.

But at the time? Cleveland’s sports chroniclers considered it a black eye for Cleveland on a night that resulted in many of them.

Texas manager Billy Martin: “The fans showed the worst sportsmanship in the history of baseball.”

Cleveland manager Ken Aspromonte: “I’ve never seen anything like that in all my life and I have played baseball all over the world.”

Umpire Nestor Chylak: “They were uncontrolled beasts. I’ve never seen anything like it except in a zoo.”

Let’s travel back in time and dig into the archives of The Plain Dealer to re-live one of the most surreal scenes ever to unfold on a baseball field.

‘They would have killed him. I guess these fans just can’t handle good beer’

The attendance that night: 25,134. Beers sold that night: 65,000. A Guardians spokesman estimated an average crowd today consumes about 23,500 beers.

Columnist Hal Lebovitz surmised that half of the fans “drank little or no beer,” which meant those participating accounted for about five Stroh’s each. “I saw five fans stand in the beer line, each getting the maximum six cups,” Lebovitz wrote. “That’s 30 beers. Some of them drank two cups and the others inhaled nearly 10 apiece.” For a buck, he added, a fan could snag a 50-cent bleacher seat and five beers. A security guard was quoted saying he saw “kids that couldn’t be more than 14 years old drinking beer.”

“Small wonder the bleachers were quickly sold out,” Lebovitz wrote. “Not even free soup or bread would have caused those long lines.”

The team increased its security presence from the customary 32 guards to 48. Early in the game, it was merely a comedic spectacle, though one rated “R.” Dan Coughlin wrote: “A woman walked up to the home-plate umpire Nestor Chylak and tried to kiss him. Compared to what followed, this was cute.”

Fans breached the field of play in the middle innings. They showered Martin with beer when he disputed a call, and he blew kisses back at them. As beat writer Russ Schneider detailed: “In the sixth inning, one of the youths who raced across the outfield stopped and disrobed — then streaked back and forth until he escaped over the right-field fence and into the arms of a policeman.”

“The brew-propelled bleacher fans began to hop into the better seats, roam around the park, disturb the bullpens, jump over the fence and onto the field,” Lebovitz wrote. “The hooliganism was not confined to bleacherites only, but they were in the vast majority.” Umpires, ushers, security guards and the grounds crew spent much of their time herding fans off the field and scooping up their discarded clothing, empty beer cups and other trash.

In the seventh, fans tossed a string of firecrackers near the Rangers’ bullpen, forcing the relievers to scamper across the field to the visitors’ dugout. Cleveland’s relievers followed suit a half-inning later. That led to Martin sticking with reliever Steve Foucault through the end of the game since the bullpen, as Schneider noted, “was barren of players.”

Cleveland erased a 5-3 deficit in the ninth and appeared poised for a walk-off win when all hell broke loose. It was a ballpark riot, lasting nearly 10 minutes, players versus fans in one of the ugliest scenes ever to grace a baseball field. From Schneider’s dispatch: “A couple of spectators leaped onto the playing field and tried to steal the cap from the head of Jeff Burroughs, the Rangers’ right fielder. Burroughs fought back and, quickly, scores of youths jumped over the railing and onto the field — while players from both the Indians and Rangers raced to the defense of the outfielder. This time the Indians and Rangers — who fought each other last Wednesday night in Arlington, Texas — joined forces to protect themselves from the unruly mob.”

Cleveland pitcher Tom Hilgendorf absorbed a metal folding chair to the head. Chylak was cut on the hand. Police had caps and badges stolen. The bases were swiped — and not by some speedy infielder. There were a dozen arrests.

“Maybe it was silly for us to go out there,” Martin said after the game, “but we weren’t about to leave a man out there on the field unprotected. It seemed that he might be destroyed. They would have killed him. I guess these fans just can’t handle good beer. There were some knives out there, too. We’re fortunate somebody didn’t get stabbed.”

Coughlin’s story asserts that someone “standing in a mob on top of the Texas Rangers dugout punched a newspaper reporter in the side of the head several minutes after the riot at the Stadium apparently had subsided. ‘I’ll kill you,’ said the youth, who seconds later blindsided the reporter again. ‘And if Burroughs comes out on that field tomorrow night, I’ll kill him.’”

“I could see that there was sort of a riot psychology,” Burroughs said. “You have to realize all I had to protect myself with was my fists.”

The game was ruled a forfeit in favor of the Rangers, the first forfeit since September 1971, when the Senators played their final game in Washington D.C. before relocating to become … the Rangers. Cleveland pitcher Dick Bosman, a member of that 1971 Senators team, said the fans in Washington “were only looking for mementos” when they disrupted the game. After 10-Cent Beer Night, Bosman said: “This was a mean, ugly, frightening crowd.”

Cleveland’s players, bloody, bruised and shouting in frustration, returned to the home clubhouse. Aspromonte collected himself for 10 minutes before telling reporters in a soft voice: “Those people were like animals. But it’s not just baseball, it’s the society we live in. Nobody seems to care about anything.’ We complained about their people in Arlington last week when they threw beer on us and taunted us to fight, but look at our people. They were worse. I don’t know if it was just the beer.”

GO DEEPER

Beers in the hot tub, holes in the wall: Tales from Cleveland’s Municipal Stadium clubhouse

Martin called Aspromonte to thank the Indians for coming to his team’s defense. The Rangers remained in their locker room for nearly two hours before returning to their hotel with a significant police presence. Umpires exited in a private car that pulled up outside their locker room.

Frank Ferrone, chief of stadium security, shook his head and acknowledged it was the worst incident in the history of Cleveland baseball as he spoke with reporters.

“We would have needed 25,000 cops to handle this crowd,” he said.

‘I don’t know who to blame, but I’m scared’

Lebovitz wrote: “They weren’t baseball fans. They wanted the beer. Thus, in essence, the Indians’ management wasn’t promoting baseball. It was pushing beer.”

The cheap-beer marketing ploy wasn’t unique to Cleveland. The Brewers and Rangers had used similar promotions. The Indians had a nickel-beer night a few years earlier. The previous summer, Clevelanders could swig 10-cent beers at a variety of downtown events, including a rib burnoff, an art show and the All Nations Festival, where the libations were so popular that “more than 1,000 gallons were pumped in just a couple of hours,” according to a Plain Dealer article.

In fact, the Rangers held the same promotion a week earlier, the night they tangled with the Indians in an eighth-inning brawl. Lenny Randle dropped down a bunt and ran several feet inside the baseline to collide with Cleveland reliever Milt Wilcox. Randle had leveled infielder Jack Brohamer to break up a double play, so Wilcox greeted him with a pitch uncomfortably inside. Cleveland’s John Ellis tackled Randle, and the dugouts and bullpens emptied. As the Indians left the field, fans pelted them with beer.

Schneider wrote: “(Dave) Duncan, still wearing his catcher’s equipment, shouted at one of the fans, who, in turn, challenged the Cleveland player to fight. As Duncan stood there arguing — and with the total absence of any policemen or security agents — another man threw a cup of beer in Duncan’s face. It incensed Duncan and he attempted to climb over the roof of the dugout to reach the fan while his teammates, coaches and Aspromonte clung to his body to keep him away from the spectators. At the same time, several fans crawled on the roof of the dugout and continued their taunts and insults. After nearly five minutes, three policemen rushed to the dugout with hands on their pistols.”

For a week, the hype built. Pete Franklin fanned the flames nightly on his popular Cleveland radio show. Lebovitz chided broadcaster Joe Tait for urging fans to “Come out to Beer Night and let’s stick it in Billy Martin’s ear.” Tait called Lebovitz to say he only made that declaration once, and only did so because Martin insisted there would be no hostile environment in Cleveland because the team didn’t have enough fans.

“The impression may not have been the one Joe intended,” Lebovitz wrote. “But that’s the inference the listeners got. Joe, with his high-voltage delivery, conceivably helped create an atmosphere that led to the final scene.”

Tait, though, pointed out a visual in the sports section the morning of the game that had a team mascot wearing boxing gloves. Lebovitz admitted that was a mistake. “In retrospect,” he wrote, “I felt ill over our contribution to the night’s events.” Lebovitz opted not to pen a column pleading with the team to postpone Beer Night because of the previous scrap between the teams. He didn’t think his words would have carried much weight.

“These people probably came out with sort of a chip on their shoulders,” said Rangers catcher Duke Sims, “and then got beered up.”

There were other culprits, too. Chylak said he “saw trouble coming as early as the seventh inning” and Lebovitz wrote the umpires began plotting their own exit, but “didn’t think beyond personal safety.”

Cleveland’s executive vice president, Ted Bonda, told Schneider he considered handing Gaylord Perry a microphone to deliver a calming message to the fans in the seventh inning, “but I talked to somebody who talked me out of it. I wish now I had obeyed my gut feeling, but hindsight is better than foresight.”

Schneider wrote that a stern warning would have sufficed. He also stressed umpires should have ordered the team to plead with the fans. When Mets fans tossed debris at Pete Rose in the playoffs the previous year, the umpires ordered the PA announcer to threaten fans with a potential forfeit. Manager Yogi Berra and veterans Willie Mays and Tom Seaver stepped onto the field and asked fans to “give us a chance to win on the field.” Schneider wrote, “This, it would seem, should be a common practice as well as common sense.”

Lebovitz also pinned some blame on team officials for not preventing fans from shifting to closer seats that aided their fence-hopping and for not calling city police when it became apparent the fans couldn’t be contained.

“But the major blame,” he wrote, “must fall on Beer Night. Without the 10-cent beer, the game would have been played to its proper conclusion in a relatively normal atmosphere. The beer brought out twice as many fans as expected and it brought out the worst in many of them, particularly the teenage kids who can’t handle it.”

Aspromonte: “I don’t know who’s to blame, but I’m scared.’”

Martin feared retaliation when the Indians returned to Texas in late August. He vowed to use his radio show to highlight how Cleveland’s players actually came to their aid.

“It was an unfortunate thing last week when that fan threw beer in Aspromonte’s face,” Martin said, “but it shouldn’t have caused this. I really was scared. I was afraid someone was going to get seriously hurt. Someone could have had an eye put out.

“That’s probably the closest we’ll come to seeing someone getting killed in the game of baseball. In the 25 years I’ve played, I’ve never seen any crowd act like that. It was ridiculous.”

A woman called The Plain Dealer newsroom to inform them they had omitted the driving force behind the night’s events: “There was a full moon.”

Some fans in Cleveland climbed atop the team dugouts and a few later charged the field. (Paul Tepley Collection / Diamond Images/Getty Images)

“Beer Night became the gasoline that caused it to burst into full flame,” Lebovitz wrote. “There is no better fuel than alcohol.

“The whole evening was a shame. It would be a tragic mistake to slough it off — to blame it on the full moon. In that case, the riot will have taught us nothing.”

‘Beer, a hot dog, popcorn and a lot of bellyaching’

Cleveland public address announcer Bob Keefer warned fans ahead of the game the following night that they would be prosecuted if they entered the field of play. The message was met with applause.

The Indians had two more 10-cent beer nights scheduled. In the early innings, when the only madness was a few young fans who had run across the field, Bonda had no qualms about the future promotions, as he told The Plain Dealer: “We plan to have them. These are young people. They are our fans. Where have they been? I’m not going to chase them away. They haven’t interrupted the game.”

He spoke too soon.

Heaton criticized Bonda and general manager Phil Seghi for downplaying the events and leaving the game early.

“The better course would be to admit some misjudgment,” Heaton wrote, “in anticipating the size of the turnout, providing adequate security forces and in decisions on how to handle the various incidents that happened. They certainly didn’t feel that matters would get so hairy as they did in that last inning or both would not have left the game early and missed a first-hand view of the melee.”

The day after the brouhaha in Cleveland — one of only five forfeits in the last 70 years — Mets shortstop Bud Harrelson said: “Beer doesn’t help. But I would be the last man to suggest that you ban beer at a ballpark. That’s the name of the game — beer, a hot dog, popcorn and a lot of bellyaching. I’ll tell you, if we ever had 10-cent beer at Shea (Stadium), it would be a disaster.”

A half-century later, that night’s memories, softened over time, prevail through popular T-shirts around Cleveland — at one point, available at the Progressive Field team store — and copycat promotions. The Portland Pickles, a collegiate summer team, are partnering with a brewery for a 10-cent Beer Night on Tuesday. As their promotion reads: “10 Cent Beer Night went down as one of the worst failed promotions in sports history. That’s why we’re bringing it back.”

American League president Lee MacPhail initially declared “beer nights will not be permitted at Indians home games in the foreseeable future.” He later backtracked, and the Indians held another beer night on July 18, 1974, but with stricter purchasing limits.

Bonda feared the fracas would hurt the club’s attendance. Heaton wrote he didn’t think there would be a correlation, but he did predict team officials would use it as a convenient excuse if the Indians didn’t draw better. Ultimately, they attracted more than 1.11 million to Municipal Stadium, the club’s largest attendance figure for a quarter-century stretch (1960-85).

“The fans know that riots are rare occurrences,” Heaton wrote, “and that Tuesday’s outburst very well may never be part of the Cleveland scene again.”

(Top photo: Paul Tepley Collection / Diamond Images / Getty Images)

Let’s start with the brass band.

That’s what caught Ben Shelton off guard when he walked onto court Sunday to face Hugo Gaston of France. The venue was Court 14: a sunken stage that can very quickly become a suffocating cauldron of noise and mayhem when the opponent is a native son.

“This is the first time that I’ve come out to a tennis match and had a band playing in the stands on my court,” said Shelton. Shelton, the 15th seed at this year’s French Open, is no stranger to rowdy crowds; he played two years of college tennis at the University of Florida. Away matches at Kentucky Tennessee and Georgia were especially nasty, he said.

“You play in the SEC (Southeastern Conference) all bets are off.” 

If the bets are off on campus, then at Roland Garros, they’re somewhere in the Seine. All match long, the band played on, a bass drum thumping and summoning the rhythmic clapping, the trumpets and horns tooting and rousing the standing-room-only crowd of thousands to its feet to shake Shelton into as many faults and errors as it could.

This is how tennis rolls at the French Open, turning a genteel sport known for its etiquette-obsessed fans into the frenzies of soccer matches. 

It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. The lords of Wimbledon would have none of it, and the All England Club has long set the standards for much of the sport. But these are two of just a handful of weeks during the tennis season when a tournament reminds a sport that it does not have to abide by the norms of Victorian-era Great Britain.

Players and fans alike might enjoy themselves a tad more.   

“They’re really into it and I felt like they really love tennis,” said Denis Shapovalov, a Canadian who got similar treatment later that evening when he took on France’s Luca Van Assche a few hours later on the same court. Shapovalov, a massive Toronto Maple Leafs fan, is no stranger to the boozy and brazen throngs at sporting events — just not the ones he’s playing in.

“Pretty fun as a tennis player, even though it was against me.”

After a series of pressure-cooker clashes in the early rounds, tennis players and fans are being forced to re-engage with the current rules of the game. At its best, tennis is a sport that inspires uncontrollable emotions, from awe and ecstasy to desolation and pain. Fans going through those emotions are expected not to show them — at least until a point is over — and even then, not to show them too much.

Lines do get crossed and in Paris, players not from France bear the brunt. Belgium’s David Goffin was plenty salty after his five-set win over France’s Giovanni Mpetshi Perricard on Tuesday night, taunting the crowd with a cupped ear for mere seconds after it spent more than three and a half hours taunting him.

The Parisians have form. Taylor Fritz ran around the court with his finger on his lips after toppling Arthur Rinderknech of France last year, screaming, inaudibly beneath the din of boos, that he wanted them to “let me hear it!”

Goffin was a little more unnerved.

“It goes too far, it’s total disrespect,” the mild-mannered Belgian told reporters from his country following the match. He claimed a fan had spit gum at him.

“Soon there will be smoke bombs, hooligans and fights in the stands.” He compared that behaviour to that of soccer fans — the implication that it simply has no place in tennis. 

Goffin gave some back (Benoit Doppagne/Belga Mag/AFP via Getty Images)

World No 1 Iga Swiatek then gently scolded the Court Philippe-Chatrier crowd on Wednesday for making noise in the middle of points as she prevailed in three sets over Naomi Osaka in a gripping duel.

Swiatek understands the enthusiasm of the French crowds, she said, but there is decorum in tennis, an expectation of silence in the audience, though plenty of her peers, namely Frances Tiafoe, think that concept should have gone away long ago. Reading between the lines, Swiatek, though addressing the topic in general, was only really talking about one point: as she moved on to a regulation drive forehand volley deep in the third set against Osaka, someone screamed out as she addressed the ball. She missed the volley.

If tennis players were constantly exposed to noises of varying pitch and intensity, mapped to the contours of their rallies — just like in almost every other sport — this kind of thing wouldn’t be a problem.

When a gasp emerges from a vacuum, it is much more jarring.

“I just wanted to point out that it’s not easy for us,” Swiatek said. “French crowds can be kind of harsh, so I don’t want to be under the radar right now. I don’t know if that was a good decision or not, but I hope they can treat me as a human.”

This has all caused quite the stir at the French Open, and tournament director Amelie Mauresmo said Thursday that she would no longer permit spectators to drink alcohol in the stands. Umpires and security officials have been put on alert to snuff out unruly behavior.

But fans getting emotional in the middle of a point, as long as it’s not intentionally done to put off a specific player, is not a punishable offense.

“If you throw something at a player, that’s black and white, you’re out,” Mauresmo said. “Expressing emotions, during a point, isn’t the same thing.”

Given the singular nature of the French Open, it’s also hard to tell whether all this is a genuine referendum on the nature of spectatorship, or more of an occupational hazard of being in the City of Light for a fortnight. Home advantage is as old as sports and warfare, and there is something inherently unfair about it in tennis. Players from only four countries — Australia, France, the United Kingdom and the United States — can experience a home-court advantage in the Grand Slams, the most important events in the sport.

Home favorite Caroline Garcia even got a portrait last year (Robert Prange/Getty Images)

Everyone else has to make do with the extra oomph of a home crowd (and its proven effects on umpires and referees) at tournaments that don’t mean nearly as much and offer far less prize money. The circumstances at this year’s tournament are also a little strange.

Rafael Nadal vs Alexander Zverev and Swiatek vs Osaka aren’t your typical first- and second-round matches; they’re the kinds of occasions fans are used to seeing in semi-finals and finals, when the jeopardy is at its peak and emotions run highest. When Andy Murray won his first Wimbledon final against Novak Djokovic in 2013, the entire Centre Court crowd let out a pealing screech on match point, when Djokovic’s first ball flew high and deep in the air, and an awed gasp when it landed not out, but in. He sent the ball back to Murray. Murray returned the favor.

Djokovic put the next ball in the net.

The venue exploded.

Murray in the crowd after his Wimbledon triumph in 2013 (Julian Finney/Getty Images)

Petar Popovic, the coach of Corentin Moutet, put house money into full effect for a first-round match against Nicolas Jarry, a powerful Chilean coming off a run to the final in Rome. In February, a partisan crowd in Chile, where they do rowdy tennis as well as anyone, had made life fairly miserable for Moutet. Popovic told the press he wanted the French crowd to exact some revenge. And they did, razzing Jarry for every fault and error, breaking his concentration and his spirit, turning Court Simonne-Mathieu into a Roman amphitheatre. Moutet prevailed in four sets, including 6-0 in the last.

This rousing support can also only do so much. The last French woman to win the French Open was Mary Pierce in 2000. A French man hasn’t won since Yannick Noah in 1983. Other players are simply better.

Let’s get back to the band. 

They are part of La Banda Paname, a collection of roughly 50 musicians who provide spirit and entertainment at various sports events throughout the region. BNP Paribas, the international bank that is one of the biggest sponsors of tennis and the French Open, has them on the payroll here, under the name “We Are Tennis”. They are decked out in all white, with matching logoed polo shirts. 

“We started at Queen’s Club for the Davis Cup against Great Britain in 2015,” said Vincent Raymond, who was part of the five-man crew on Tuesday.

“Andy Murray punished us.”

Striking up a tune (AP Photo/Jean-Francois Badias)

Raymond was joined by bandmates, Julian, Brice, Nicholas and Yohann: two trumpets, drums, a trombone, a flugabone, and an emcee/conductor. Their mandate, he said, is to create noise, support France and support the sport. They have seats reserved all over the grounds, so they can bounce from court to court.

The way it’s been going for French tennis, that means going wherever France needs them during the first week. Generally, the French players are out of the tournament after that. “Then we shift our strategy,” Raymond said. “We want to provide a fair play atmosphere. It’s tennis after all. The key is to stop playing before the umpire says no more.”

The band, however, can only control what they can control. Once they get the crowd going, all bets are off, especially on Court Suzanne-Lenglen, the 10,000-seat gem of an arena, where Argentina’s Tomas Martin Etcheverry took on Arthur Cazaux, the rising 21-year-old Frenchman in the first round. 

Cazaux won the first set in a hurry then fell off a cliff, losing the next two. He was still getting pounded midway through the third, down a service break and seemingly minutes from defeat. His shoulders slumped, his legs dragged. 

Then, as Cazaux, came back out onto the court after a change-over, the crowd grew louder than it had been all day, with plenty of help from that band. A collection of Cazaux’s friends, seated just above the back of the court, traded chants and arm pumps with fans on the other side of the stadium, like they had been practicing for months. 

Etcheverry took a few deep breaths, and served.

Fault.

More chants. More screams. A brief chorus.

Another fault.

Within minutes, the crowd had manifested a break for Cazaux. He couldn’t hold his serve, so they manifested another for him. 

“I had a second breath due to the crowd, so thanks to them,” Cazaux said later. “I love this kind of atmosphere.”

Then that refrain: “It’s like a football match.”

Etcheverry said the atmosphere was as tough as it gets.

“I play a lot of times against French guys,” he said. “It’s tough, every moment.”

Alas, it was not tough enough. Cazaux fell in four sets, the crowd screaming until the dying moment, and then for a few more after. 

The band checked the schedule, and moved to another court.

(Top photo: AP Photo/Jean-Francois Badias)

Growing up playing high school football in the early 2000s, the dream of seeing someone who looked like me playing at the highest level of a sport I loved was one I gave up on early in my youth. For many, representation at the pinnacle of something you obsessed over can be taken for granted. For Asian American kids in sports at the time, it was practically nonexistent. So when I first saw the “Nguyen” nameplate on the back of an NFL jersey, I was in genuine awe.

Someone with my last name in the NFL? And he wasn’t a kicker (not that there is anything wrong with that). He played linebacker, one of the most physical positions in sports, for the Dallas Cowboys.

That jersey belonged to Dat Nguyen, the All-Pro linebacker, who cemented himself as a legend at Texas A&M. He didn’t just have a spot on the roster, he was one of the best defenders in the league. Not only did it make it seem a little more possible that Asians could play in the NFL, but it also created a different type of connection to pro football that I didn’t have before.

We aren’t related — Nguyen is an incredibly common last name — but for me and the Asian kids from my generation who got to watch him, he represented us on the field. He broke a barrier we didn’t think could be broken, shattering it with every bone-rattling tackle. May is Asian American, Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month and a good time to reflect on the history Nguyen made and how he got there.

Discovering football

Nguyen and his family shared a similar experience as many Vietnamese migrants in America in the ’80s. During the Vietnam War, his parents made the harrowing escape by boat as the Viet Cong overtook their homes in Vietnam. They started their new lives in a refugee camp in Arkansas before moving to Texas, where Nguyen would grow up and discover football.

His family took up shrimping, a common occupation among Vietnamese immigrants because they did it in their homeland. Beginning in fourth grade, Nguyen spent each summer on the family boat as his brother’s deckhand.

Nguyen’s junior high school coach, Cliff Davis, discovered him while walking the halls looking to recruit kids to play football. Nguyen was nearly 5-foot-10 in eighth grade and could already dunk a basketball. He stood out from his friends. However, his parents initially didn’t support his playing football and wanted him to focus on academics. Nguyen forged their signatures to sign up for the football team.

Dat Nguyen, left, with his family at the premiere of “All American: The Dat Nguyen Story,” a documentary about his football journey, in 2023. (Courtesy of Nguyen family)

He didn’t know much about the sport, but as he learned more, he quickly fell in love with the mental side of the game.

“I was very fortunate and grateful that (Davis) taught me to visualize,” Nguyen, now 48, explained. “We went to the gym before the football game and he shared with us a moment. And the moment was when you closed your eyes and you play the play in your mind, saw the play before it happened, called the defense, adjust to the offensive formation, snap the ball and just see it. If it’s a run, if it’s a pass — what’s your responsibility? What’s your alignment? What’s your adjustment? All that quickly has to be diagnosed or decided within a few seconds. If you played it in your mind and you saw it the night before and you line up in the game, it’s a lot easier when you just don’t have to think … you just react.”

Nguyen’s athleticism and instinctual style of play helped him quickly excel on the gridiron, but his double life almost halted when he broke his elbow diving for a fumble toward the end of his eighth-grade season. His parents found out he was hurt playing football but realized he was passionate about the game and that it kept him out of trouble, so they let him continue to play. As he played high school football, the cerebral nature of the sport continued to compel him.

“I fell in love with the game because it was fascinating to me,” he said. “I was one of the 11 guys every time the puzzle was moved. As I got older, the game was so much more interesting because of the situations in football.”

Breaking out with the Aggies

Nguyen became a star for his hometown team and had people from every background chanting his name, but his parents came to only two games. His mom worked two jobs and his dad was on the boat all day. Plus, entering a crowded stadium full of people who didn’t speak their language was daunting. It wasn’t until Nguyen got a scholarship to Texas A&M that he truly felt they embraced his football career.

When he first got to Texas A&M, he thought he was too small and needed to gain weight to be an effective college player, but then he got too big. He couldn’t move effectively and he slid down the depth chart. He almost gave up on playing college football but recommitted himself in the offseason. He woke up at 6 a.m. every day to work out on his own, went to class at 8 a.m. and got in a second workout at noon before working out with his team at 4 p.m. He got into fantastic shape and surprised the team and coaching staff with his body transformation.

He worked his way up from eighth on the depth chart to No. 2. The only linebacker ahead of him was Trent Driver, who had prototypical size and speed. One day, while running sprints, Driver twisted his ankle on a sprinkler. Nguyen got his shot, and the rest was history. He became an Aggies legend, starting 51 consecutive games and amassing 517 tackles and six interceptions.

Dat Nguyen is one of the greatest defensive players in @AggieFootball history. The @cfbhall linebacker is the only player in @TAMU history to lead the team in tackles four consecutive seasons and still holds school records with 517 career tackles and 30 double-digit tackle games!… pic.twitter.com/6Hvg13Qlb4

— College Football Hall of Fame (@cfbhall) September 25, 2023

His parents started coming to his home games, and for the away games, they would have company come over to watch their son play on TV. They picked up how the game worked, but the magnitude of how big football was, especially in Texas, was hard to grasp. Their son went from helping them on a shrimp boat to playing on national television.

Nguyen had one of the best games of his career in the 1998 Cotton Bowl against UCLA, but when he talked about the game, he didn’t highlight the win or his interception and lateral for a touchdown or the fact that he was named MVP of that game. He talked about the feeling when he found out his parents, who were across the country for a wedding, were gathered around a TV with friends and family hooting and cheering him on in the Cotton Bowl.

“That might be the best game of my career,” Nguyen said. “I still have some records there in the Cotton Bowl, and it’s not like some of those records might not be broken, right? And for them to witness that with relatives and family and gatherings and in another state … yeah, that was pretty cool for them to share with me.”

Growing up in an Asian household, winning the approval of the family sometimes felt like chasing after a carrot on a stick that was tied to your back. When you’ve achieved the status of state legend and get a free education out of it, no parent, no matter how high their standards, could resist cheering.

How ’bout them Cowboys?

The next achievement to check off was getting drafted. Though Nguyen had gaudy statistics and accolades, he was still undersized (5-11, 234 pounds at the 1999 NFL Scouting Combine) in an era of football when the prototypical linebacker was 250 pounds. Nguyen was one of Dallas’ top-30 visits, so although the Cowboys were interested, he knew he wouldn’t be a first-round pick.

The draft spanned two days back then. On the first day, Nguyen helped a friend move and went to a kid’s birthday party before ending up at his mom’s house where they would watch the end of day one of the draft together. Nine linebackers with better measurables got drafted before him. He then got the call from Jerry Jones. The Cowboys drafted him in the third round. Nguyen would be playing pro football in his home state.

“I landed in Dallas and I thought, ‘Your family left Vietnam to come here just for freedom and you get the chance to play this game we called the American sport and you get drafted by America’s Team,’” Nguyen said.

He remembered in his first OTAs getting into the defensive huddle, getting the signal and calling the defense — something he’d done thousands of times. No big deal. He then looked across and saw Troy Aikman and Emmit Smith, and to his left was Michael Irvin. When the ball was snapped, Nguyen froze and didn’t move. These were guys he watched every Sunday, and just sharing the field with them caused him to short-circuit for a second. Though there were some historically big personalities in the Dallas locker room, he said they respected his play and he never felt ostracized for his ethnicity.

Dat Nguyen celebrates a fumble recovery for the Cowboys during a game in 2005. (Tim Heitman / USA Today)

Bill Parcells was hired as head coach in 2003, Nguyen’s fifth year in the league. Parcells came from a 3-4 defensive background and preferred bigger, more physical linebackers. Nguyen was quick, undersized and made plays because of his anticipation and angles.

The old-school Parcells wasn’t easy to impress. But as Nguyen had done his entire football career, he made his size an afterthought and earned Parcells’ trust. Nguyen had a career year in his first season playing for him and was named second-team All-Pro.

“I learned more football with (Parcells) than my 15 years prior,” Nguyen said. “He made the game very interesting. Situational football was a big part of what he did, and I really learned a lot about the game on that aspect of it. He’s a guy that really cares about you as a person even though at times he doesn’t feel like he does. But I’ll send him a text right now, and he’ll text me back. I feel like I’m in that inner circle with him, and it’s hard to get in that inner circle.”

“He could have played for any of my teams,” Parcells would later say after coaching Nguyen.

Injuries pile up

Nguyen shined brightly when he was on the field, but injuries took a toll on his body. In 2004, playing the Pittsburgh Steelers, some Cowboys defenders had a bet on who would put the biggest hit on Jerome Bettis. Early in the game, Nguyen saw his chance. The play unfolded in slow motion. He watched quarterback Ben Roethlisberger turn around to hand the ball off to Bettis.

“I was like, ‘Oh, shoot, I’m beelining him. I’m about to win this pot,’” he said. “So I’m about to blow him up. All of a sudden I get blown up from somewhere else.”

Steelers receiver Hines Ward blindsided and de-cleated him. His legs were 6 feet in the air and he smashed his head on the ground. The next thing he could remember was the trainer bringing him to his wife and explaining to her that he had a severe concussion.

He went the next morning to the facility to work out, get treatment and attend his position meeting. In his meeting, he looked down at his grade sheet and saw he was given a positive grade on 63 out of 64 plays. He realized he’d just played one of the best games ever — the problem was, he didn’t remember anything past the blindside hit.

The following season, he prepared hard and felt great. He thought he would have a career year but injured his knee in training camp and had meniscus surgery before the season. During a West Coast trip in which they played the 49ers and Raiders, he hurt his neck against the 49ers but played through it. He completed a Cowboys comeback with a game-sealing interception but knew something wasn’t right.

“I remember calling my wife the morning I woke up,” Nguyen said. “I was like, my knees are bothering me. My neck’s bothering me. I don’t feel right.”

After the Raiders game, on the flight back to Dallas, he sat next to Dan Campbell, Nguyen’s teammate with the Cowboys and at Texas A&M.

“I was like, ‘Dan, man, I can see the plays. I can’t get there.’ Like I worked so hard in the off-season just to get a chance to get the edge, right? I put so many hours into it, but I think my body’s just breaking down.”

The next morning, Nguyen told Parcells he needed to take some time off to recover and regroup, and Parcells obliged. Nguyen tried coming back on Thanksgiving, but his body didn’t respond. His arm went numb every time he got hit.

Dat Nguyen is recognized during halftime of a Dallas Cowboys preseason game in 2006 for his contributions to the team. (Khampha Bouaphanh / Getty Images)

“So that’s when I knew it was over,” Nguyen said. “I was glad I was able to walk away. And, you know, you miss it. I’m sorry, you miss the locker room. You miss the competition. You miss the four seconds of the game when the ball snaps. I can’t explain this to anybody or share it with people because it’s so unique.”

Nguyen retired in 2005 and went on to have brief stints coaching with the Cowboys and Texas A&M. He’s earned several accolades since his retirement including making the Texas A&M Athletic Hall of Fame, All-Time Big 12 Team and the Texas Sports Hall of Fame. But his seven seasons, a relatively long career, were not enough to get Pro Football Hall of Fame consideration. Though he won’t be enshrined in Canton, his career was truly unique. He was the first Vietnamese player to be drafted in the NFL and the only one to date. Nguyen was a barrier breaker, and he hopes his story can inspire other Asian kids to follow in his footsteps.

“I thought when you broke the barrier back then when I was playing, I was hoping that it was open to people,” he said. “I was hoping that more kids would be participants. It’s hard to find. … I mean, even my nephew, that’s going to graduation tonight, he’s a good ball player. I don’t think he’s a DI player, but I think he’s able to play DIII if he wants to pursue it. And then (many kids wave) off the option, but it’s like, man, you never know how you develop your body. It might be small stature, but man, a lot of times, football teaches you so much. But the opportunity to make it and fulfill a dream, man, it’s like no other, though. And I think a lot of them don’t want to pursue it because the chances are against them, which it is.”

(Top photo: Al Messerschmidt and Doug Pensinger / Getty Images)

After the NBA Draft withdrawal deadline passed on Wednesday night, we finally have a clearer picture of what rosters will look like when the season starts in November.

This transfer portal season has been as crazy as ever, and a lot has changed since we last did this exercise on championship night. It’s possible that a few of these teams will make some late portal additions or sign an overseas prospect or two, but today marks the first day when putting out a super-early Top 25 actually makes sense. So here it is, starting with a No. 1 team that is very much there because of the last-second withdrawal decision by a star player.

Previous rank: 6

Projected starters: Mark Sears, Chris Youngblood (transfer), Latrell Wrightsell Jr., Grant Nelson, Clifford Omoruyi (transfer)

Top reserves: Aden Holloway (transfer), Derrion Reid (freshman), Jarin Stevenson, Houston Mallette (transfer), Aiden Sherrill (freshman), Mouhamed Dioubate, Naas Cunningham (freshman), Labaron Philon (freshman)

Nate Oats has assembled the best 3-point shooting team in the country. In addition to Sears and Wrightsell, he signed three transfer guards who all made 50-plus 3s last season, and two of the three (Youngblood and Mallette) shot 40-plus percent from 3. Oats also improved his defense with former Rutgers center Omoruyi, who anchored the fifth-ranked defense in college hoops, and he signed four top-40 freshmen. This is a ridiculously deep roster with arguably the best offensive weapon in the country (Sears) and enviable athleticism and positional size. Alabama’s defense has teeter-tottered between elite and mediocre the last four years with adjusted defensive ranks of third, 92nd, third and 111th. So the Crimson Tide are due to be good on that end again. That’s the only real question mark here, because we know this team will have no problem scoring.

2. Gonzaga

Previous: 2

Projected starters: Ryan Nembhard, Nolan Hickman, Steele Venters, Ben Gregg, Graham Ike

Top reserves: Braden Huff, Michael Ajayi (transfer), Khalif Battle (transfer), Dusty Stromer

Gonzaga returns four of five starters and gets back Venters, the 2022-23 Big Sky Player of the Year who missed last season with a torn ACL. Last year, the Zags took off when Mark Few moved Gregg into the starting lineup at the three. Few has the lineup versatility to go big again if that’s what’s best. Huff would start for most high-major programs. Gonzaga’s bench might just be good enough to form a top-25 team by itself. Battle averaged 26.7 points over his last nine games at Arkansas; Stromer shot 36.6 percent from 3 as a freshman and started 14 games; Ajayi averaged 17.2 points and shot 47 percent from 3 at Pepperdine; and Braeden Smith, who is redshirting, was the Patriot League player of the year at Colgate. Like Alabama, the Zags need to improve on defense, but this is another team that should score easily. Few has smartly surrounded Ike with floor spacers to give him room to feast in the post.

Previous: 3

Projected starters: Milos Uzan (transfer), LJ Cryer, Emanuel Sharp, J’Wan Roberts, Ja’Vier Francis

Top reserves: Joseph Tugler, Terrance Arceneaux, Ramon Walker, Mercy Miller (freshman), Chase McCarty (freshman)

When Tugler suffered a season-ending foot injury on Feb. 27, Houston was the best team in college hoops, according to metrics, and clearly the best defensive team. Houston’s adjusted defensive efficiency was 84.6; the next best was Iowa State at 89.9. The Cougars lost their most important player in Jamal Shead, but the rest of the rotation is back. Uzan has already proven to be a quality Big 12 guard at Oklahoma, and Houston’s only real issue late in the year was depth. Tugler and Arceneaux give a huge boost there. They’re the best two pro prospects on the team. Kelvin Sampson would probably tell you he has seven starters. Also worth noting: Houston has won 30-plus games three straight seasons, and that followed a Final Four run. Always bet on Sampson.

Previous: 7

Projected starters: Dajuan Harris Jr., Rylan Griffen (transfer), AJ Storr (transfer), KJ Adams, Hunter Dickinson

Top reserves: Zeke Mayo (transfer), Elmarko Jackson, Flory Bidunga (freshman), Zach Clemence, Rakease Passmore (freshman), Jamari McDowell

The Jayhawks looked like a team from another era last season. When they were playing well, their ball movement was exquisite, and they ran beautiful offense. But it was hard to sustain without enough shooting and a perimeter scorer who could create his own. It was only the third time in Bill Self’s tenure that KU ranked outside the top 40 in adjusted offense. That’s where the transfers come in. Self addressed the playmaking and shooting problem with Griffen, Storr and Mayo. Self also has more lineup versatility with big wings like Griffen and Storr who can man the four in smaller lineups, and then a more athletic backup five in Bidunga to take over when Dickinson is struggling guarding ball screens. This is still somewhat of a throwback startling lineup with a non-shooter like Adams at the four, but the roster construction makes more sense on paper.

5. Iowa State

Previous: 4

Projected starters: Tamin Lipsey, Keshon Gilbert, Milan Momcilovic, Joshua Jefferson (transfer), Dishon Jackson (transfer)

Top reserves: Curtis Jones, Nate Heise (transfer), Demarion Watson, Brandton Chatfield, Nojus Indrusaitis (freshman), Dwayne Pierce (freshman)

The best defense in college basketball last season should be back near the top, as three starters return and T.J. Otzelberger replaces the other two with strong defenders in Jefferson and Jackson. Saint Mary’s had the No. 7 defense last season with Jefferson in the lineup, per Bart Torvik. And Otzelberger has proven he can build elite defenses, finishing top 10 in adjusted defense in his first three years in Ames. The Cyclones are going to guard. Otzelberger also has been nails at finding underrated transfers who thrive in his system. Last year it was Gilbert and Jones. We can probably expect that Jackson, Heise and Chatfield will surpass expectations. This will be the first time Otzelberger’s Cyclones will have to deal with lofty preseason expectations, but it seems like he has the type of culture that will not let that poison their egos.

6. Duke

Previous: 1

Projected starters: Caleb Foster, Tyrese Proctor, Mason Gillis (transfer), Cooper Flagg (freshman), Khaman Maluach (freshman)

Top reserves: Maliq Brown (transfer), Kon Knueppel (freshman), Isaiah Evans (freshman), Darren Harris (freshman), Patrick Ngongba II (freshman), Sion James (transfer)

Jon Scheyer seemed to be trying to bring in complementary players out of the portal, building around the talents of Flagg with low-usage, high-efficiency guys like Gillis, Brown and James. It wouldn’t be shocking if this is the best team in college basketball based on the talent level. With so much youth, I want to see it first. But Scheyer will likely bring two five-stars off the bench in Evans and Knueppel while starting two projected lottery picks in the frontcourt. This team could be elite defensively, as Proctor found his calling on that end last year and both Flagg and Maluach project as high-level shot blockers. Duke has great positional size, with everyone in the rotation at 6-foot-5 or taller. Flagg is the key to the offense. He needs to be able to score and allow Duke to play through him to set up others, similar to how Scheyer used Kyle Filipowski. Leaning on freshmen only works when those are top-end lottery picks. Scheyer is banking on Flagg living up to the hype.

7. Connecticut

Previous: 5

Projected starters: Hassan Diarra, Aidan Mahaney (transfer), Solomon Ball, Alex Karaban, Samson Johnson

Top reserves: Tarris Reed Jr. (transfer), Liam McNeeley (freshman), Jaylin Stewart, Jayden Ross, Ahmad Nowell (freshman), Isaiah Abraham (freshman)

We’re at the point now where you just assume Dan Hurley’s plan will work. He has nailed roster construction the last few years and built offensive and defensive schemes ideal for his talent. Adding shooting this spring with Mahaney and McNeeley was huge, and Karaban decided to return for a run at a three-peat. Hurley’s offense hums when the Huskies can hunt early 3s and they have optimal floor spacing. That’s not the specialty of sophomores Ball, Stewart and Ross. For UConn to hit its ceiling, Mahaney needs to play to his potential. Diarra is more of a complementary guard, and Mahaney basically replicated his freshman season this past year when it was expected he’d make a star’s leap. He replaces the off-the-dribble playmaking from Tristen Newton and Cam Spencer, and that’s why his success is so important. Hurley has again set it up so his centers can split time and give opponents two different looks. This roster doesn’t appear as talented as the last two, but underrating UConn early has also become a yearly tradition.

Previous: 8

Projected starters: Zakai Zeigler, Jahmai Mashack, Chaz Lanier (transfer), Igor Milicic Jr. (transfer), Felix Okpara (transfer)

Top reserves: Jordan Gainey, Darlinstone Dubar (transfer), JP Estrella, Cameron Carr, Cade Phillips, Bishop Boswell (freshman)

Tennessee has been a top-five seed for six straight NCAA Tournaments and plugged any potential holes in the portal. We know this team is going to be elite defensively, because Rick Barnes constructs rosters with defense in mind. The question mark is on the offensive end and replacing Dalton Knecht. That’s likely by committee, but the hope is that North Florida transfer Lanier can step into the go-to guy role. Lanier is coming off a season in which he averaged 19.7 points and shot 44 percent from 3. Zeigler was one of the best two-way point guards in the country the second half of the season and is one of the best setup men in the country, so the ball will likely be in his hands a lot. And this roster has even more shooting than it did a year ago with guys like Lanier, Darlingstone and Gainey all considered knockdown shooters. The wildcard on this roster is Carr. His body wasn’t quite ready as a freshman, but he’s got the tools to be a star. The Vols are so deep on the perimeter that he doesn’t need to be that yet, but a breakout sophomore season could be in the works.

Previous: 11

Projected starters: Jaden Bradley, Caleb Love, KJ Lewis, Trey Townsend (transfer), Motiejus Krivas

Top reserves: Tobe Awaka (transfer), Anthony Dell’Orso (transfer), Carter Bryant (freshman), Emmanuel Stephen (freshman)

Arizona had the 10th-best defense in college basketball last season and could be even better this year. The Wildcats upgrade on the defensive end with Krivas and Bradley in for the departed Oumar Ballo and Kylan Boswell. Arizona was 20 points per 100 possessions better with Bradley on the floor without Boswell compared to when Boswell played without Bradley, per CBB Analytics. The return of Love is the big story here. He was much more efficient in an Arizona uniform than he was at UNC, and Tommy Lloyd has enough around him that he doesn’t have to go into hero mode. The addition of Trey Townsend gives Arizona more offensive punch from the four spot. Lloyd loves to play fast, and this roster is built to do so.

Previous: 10

Projected starters: JP Pegues (transfer), Miles Kelly (transfer), Denver Jones, Johni Broome, Dylan Cardwell

Top reserves: Chad Baker-Mazara, Tahaad Pettiford (freshman), Jahki Howard (freshman), Chaney Johnson, Chris Moore, Ja’Heim Hudson (transfer)

Auburn returns three of its top four leading scorers from a team that finished fourth at KenPom. The big returner here is Broome, who was one of the most effective big men in the country. Bruce Pearl leaned heavily on his depth last season and will likely do so again, but the one guy who may log heavy minutes is Broome, who will play at both the four and five with Jaylin Williams no longer around. Broome and Cardwell logged only 12 minutes together last season, per CBB Analytics, but they’ll likely start alongside each other this season. Kelly, Georgia Tech’s leading scorer last season, gives the Tigers another consistent scorer on the perimeter. Auburn could elevate into a top-five team if the point guard play is better and not as inconsistent as it has been in recent years. The Tigers addressed that in recruiting by landing Pegues, who averaged 18.4 points and 4.8 assists at Furman, and Pettiford, the second-ranked point guard in the 2024 class.

11. Texas A&M

Previous: 21

Projected starters: Wade Taylor IV, Zhuric Phelps (transfer), Manny Obaseki, Solomon Washington, Pharrel Payne (transfer)

Top reserves: Andersson Garcia, Jace Carter, C.J. Wilcher (transfer), Henry Coleman III, Hayden Hefner, Andre Mills (freshman)

When Buzz Williams moved Obaseki into the starting lineup with eight games to go, the Aggies became one of the best teams in the country. They won six of eight and ranked as the fifth-best team over that timespan, per Torvik, and ended up losing to top-seeded Houston in overtime. Tyrece Radford, a big part of that run, is gone, but Williams brought in another athletic attacking guard to replace him in Phelps. Payne, who will likely start at center, is an upgrade from what A&M had at that position, and he fits perfectly with this group. He was Minnesota’s best offensive rebounder — ranking 67th nationally — and with Garcia, Washington and Coleman back, the Aggies will likely once again lead the country in offensive rebounding rate. That allowed A&M to still have a good offense during a horrible shooting year, but the shooting should get better. Taylor is bound to shoot it better, and A&M added some shooting off the bench with Wilcher, who made 50 3s and shot 39.4 percent for Nebraska last season.

RJ Davis is back after earning first-team All-America honors. (Greg Fiume / Getty Images)

12. North Carolina

Previous: 9

Projected starters: Elliot Cadeau, RJ Davis, Ian Jackson (freshman), Cade Tyson (transfer), Jalen Washington

Top reserves: Seth Trimble, Ven-Allen Lubin (transfer), Drake Powell (freshman), Jae’Lyn Withers, Zayden High

North Carolina is going to be different without a low-post threat like Armando Bacot on the blocks, but the loss that stings is Harrison Ingram staying in the NBA Draft. Ingram was a Swiss Army knife for the Tar Heels and played a big role in the massive defensive leap they made last season. The offense should still be pretty good, especially if RJ Davis can duplicate or come close to repeating last season. I’m also intrigued to see Cadeau as a sophomore. He struggled shooting the ball as a freshman but he also played a facilitating role at a pretty high level considering his age. If the shot ever comes around, that’s a high-level college point guard. Tyson, a career 44.6 percent 3-point shooter at 6-7, was a smart addition. Lubin gives them some low-post scoring either off the bench or starting at the four. There’s enough talent and experience that it’s an ideal situation for two five-stars to come into. If either Jackson or Powell plays at a one-and-done level and Cadeau makes a sophomore leap, this could be a top-five team.

13. Purdue

Previous: 12

Projected starters: Braden Smith, Fletcher Loyer, Camden Heide, Trey Kaufman-Renn, Caleb Furst

Top reserves: Myles Colvin, Daniel Jacobsen (freshman), Will Berg, Kanon Catchings (freshman), Gicarri Harris (freshman), Raleigh Burgess (freshman), Brian Waddell

Purdue’s KenPom finishes in the five years that proceeded the Zach Edey era: 9, 19, 5, 9, 24. It’s going to be difficult to replace Edey, but Matt Painter won a lot of basketball games before Edey showed up and he’ll continue to do so. Painter has a really good core returning, led by Smith, who became a killer in pick-and-roll last season as both a scorer and distributor. If you asked college coaches to rank the best point guards in the country, he’d be near the top. Purdue got a head start on what life without Edey would be like last summer when it went on a foreign tour without him and Kaufman-Renn led the team in scoring. Painter also has three centers on the bench who could be next in line as dominant low-post scorers. The 7-foot-2 Berg has been learning behind Edey the last two years, and then Painter signed two centers in Jacobsen and Burgess. Jacobsen was a standout last weekend at the tryouts for the U.S. U-18 team. When I asked two coaches there who stood out, both mentioned Jacobsen, with one saying he’ll eventually be a star. He’s 7-3, skilled and playing at Purdue, so odds are in his favor.

14. Marquette

Previous: 14

Projected starters: Kam Jones, Stevie Mitchell, Chase Ross, David Joplin, Ben Gold

Top reserves: Sean Jones, Tre Norman, Zaide Lowery, Al Amadou, Caedin Hamilton (redshirt freshman), Damarius Owens (freshman), Royce Parham (freshman)

In the six games that Tyler Kolek missed late in the season, Jones averaged 20.8 points and 4.5 assists. So we’ve seen Marquette operate when it’s the Kam Jones Show, and he cooked. I’m not a big sports betting guy, but if there are futures for the 2024-25 All-America team and you can get good odds on Jones, I’d make that gamble. It’s going to be a different look without Kolek and Oso Ighodaro, but Shaka Smart keeps betting on development and it’s made him look really, well, smart. Gold started to show more as a passer his sophomore season in the Ighodaro role, and he adds shooting to the mix. Joplin should be highly motivated after a somewhat disappointing junior season that included a bad finish when he went 2-of-10 against NC State in the Sweet 16. Ross has had flashes that suggest he can be a really good college guard. The Golden Eagles will need him to take on more of an offensive role. These next two years should really show if Smart’s philosophy of staying out of the portal can work long-term, but he’s earned the benefit of the doubt so far.

Previous: 15

Projected starters: Jeremy Roach, Jayden Nunn, Langston Love, VJ Edgecombe (freshman), Norchad Omier (transfer)

Top reserves: Josh Ojianwuna, Jalen Celestine (transfer), Rob Wright (freshman), Jason Asemota (freshman)

That projected starting lineup is tiny — basically four guards and the 6-7 Omier — but it should be able to score pretty easily. Baylor has leaned heavily on the pick-and-roll game in recent years, and Roach and Omier should be a strong combination. Edgecombe is the swing guy on this team. If he’s a high-level producer right away, then the Bears have a chance to be elite offensively. The worry is whether they’ll be able to stop anyone. Omier is skilled enough to play the four, and Baylor does have a lot of size on the bench. Scott Drew could also start the 6-foot-10 Ojianwuna next to Omier and slide the 6-foot-5 Edgecombe to the three, but he’d lose some scoring. It could take some time to figure out the combinations that work, but it helps that Drew has size on the wing off the bench in Celestine (6-6) and Asemota (6-8).

Walter Clayton Jr. pulled out of the NBA Draft and is returning to Florida. (Alan Youngblood / AP)

16. Florida

Previous: 19

Projected starters: Walter Clayton Jr., Alijah Martin (transfer), Will Richard, Sam Alexis (transfer), Alex Condon

Top reserves: Rueben Chinyelu (transfer), Thomas Haugh, Denzel Aberdeen, Isaiah Brown (freshman)

Florida has one of the best guard trios in the country in Clayton, Martin and Richard. All three made at least 70 3s last season and are good enough to carry an offense when they’re hot. The Gators’ issue last season was on the defensive end, and Todd Golden strengthened that by landing two shot blockers out of the portal in Alexis and Chinyelu. One of those two will likely start alongside Condon, the Aussie big man who is poised for a breakout sophomore season. Golden had his best season at San Francisco in his third year. This will be Year 3 at Florida, and I’d bet on it being his best year yet.

Previous: Not ranked

Projected starters: Tre Donaldson (transfer), Rubin Jones (transfer), Roddy Gayle Jr. (transfer), Danny Wolf (transfer), Vladislav Goldin (transfer)

Top reserves: Nimari Burnett, Sam Walters (transfer), Will Tschetter, Justin Pippen (freshman), Durral Brooks (freshman)

It’s hard to completely turn over a roster and have a cohesive group in Year 1, but this is a bet on Dusty May pulling it off. May is really good at role definition and getting his guys to buy in. The Wolverines are going to be huge, starting the 7-foot twin towers and then bringing shooters off the bench in the 6-foot-10 Walters and 6-foot-8 Tschetter. Walters can play the three, Gayle (6-4) could play the two and Jones (6-5) can play the point, so May could conceivably play one of the biggest lineups in college basketball. And you could make an argument that has the potential to be Michigan’s best lineup. May just coached the team that ranked No. 1 in minutes continuity and 276th in average height, so this will be a different challenge. But out of the total portal rebuilds, this is the one I’m betting on that the pieces fit best.

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Elijah Hawkins (transfer), Chance McMillian, Darrion Williams, JT Toppin (transfer), Fede Federiko (transfer)

Top reserves: Kevin Overton (transfer), Kerwin Walton, Devan Cambridge, Eemeli Yalaho, Christian Anderson (freshman)

Grant McCasland has landed the Mountain West Freshman on the Year in back-to-back portal classes, with Toppin following Williams. Both are future NBA players, and Texas Tech has one of the best 2-3-4 combinations in the country. Williams was fantastic the last two months of the season. He had a 10-game stretch when he averaged 17.2 points, 9.2 rebounds, 2.2 assists and shot 64.2 percent from 3. Toppin gives the Red Raiders another interior scorer and should help the defense. And you could argue McMillian is an upgrade from Pop Isaacs. Isaacs could carry the Red Raiders for stretches, but his efficiency didn’t justify his usage. McMillian is a low-usage, high-efficiency player who is more athletic, a better shooter and a better defender. Hawkins slides into the Joe Toussaint role and Federiko for Warren Washington. Cambridge got a medical redshirt and provides energy off the bench, while both Overton and Walton provide shooting and scoring off the bench.

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Myles Rice (transfer), Trey Galloway, Mackenzie Mgbako, Malik Reneau, Oumar Ballo (transfer)

Top reserves: Kanaan Carlyle (transfer), Luke Goode (transfer), Bryson Tucker (freshman), Gabe Cupps, Anthony Leal, Langdon Hatton (transfer), Rob Dockery (redshirt freshman), George Turkson (freshman)

If going by portal rankings and name recognition, no one had a better offseason than Indiana. Mike Woodson has shown a preference for playing through the post, and he has two of the best low-post scorers in the Big Ten now in Reneau and Ballo.  Indiana had spacing issues last year, but Rice, Carlyle and Goode should help. Rice (27.5 percent) and Carlyle (32 percent) did not shoot the ball well from 3 as freshmen, but both are good foul shooters and it’s within reason to expect progression from deep based on their mechanics and skill. Both should also help in the shot creation department, which was an issue for the Hoosiers last year. Overall, Indiana is just way more talented and deep. Cupps, who started last year, might be sixth in line on IU’s depth chart at guard. All that guard depth also will allow IU some lineup versatility. When one of the bigs goes to the bench, Mgbako can slide to the four and get more shooting and skill on the floor. It’s a huge year for Woodson. Based on this class, Indiana’s donors are coming through financially, but that could quickly change if results don’t follow.

20. Illinois

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Kylan Boswell (transfer), Kasparas Jakucionis (freshman), Ty Rodgers, Carey Booth (transfer), Tomislav Ivisic (freshman)

Top reserves: Tre White (transfer), Ben Humrichous (transfer), Dra Gibbs-Lawhorn, Jake Davis (transfer), Morez Johnson (freshman)

This could look like a reach to put Illinois this high, but Brad Underwood has earned the trust. Underwood has prioritized size and skill, and this roster is oozing with upside. Underwood got busy in the portal early and then topped off his class with two international signings whom I’m projecting will both start. Jakucionis, a 6-5 guard, is one of the best young prospects overseas. An NBA scouting contact mentioned Kirk Hinrich as a comp. If Jakucionis were an American, he’d likely be one of the five-stars in this class. Ivisic, a 7-footer, is the twin brother of current Arkansas and ex-Kentucky big man Zvonimir Ivisic. Illinois also added four transfers who play the three or four and stand between 6-6 and 6-10, all of whom can shoot. And the other two freshmen, Johnson and Jason Jakstys, are 6-9 and 6-10 power forwards. Jakucionis, Boswell and Rodgers will be the keys to making it work, as Underwood has gone to a strategy of spreading the floor and leaning on his guards to create advantages. Look for all three to get a shot at continuing the booty ball offense that the Illini adopted for Marcus Domask.

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Isaiah Swope (transfer), Josiah Dotzler (transfer), Gibson Jimerson, Kalu Anya (transfer), Robbie Avila (transfer)

Top reserves: Kobe Johnson (transfer), Larry Hughes II, A.J. Casey (transfer), Kellen Thames

Indiana State led the nation in effective field-goal percentage last season and ranked fourth the year before; Josh Schertz was in Terre Haute for just three seasons. The man knows how to build an elite offense quickly, and he’s got a head start here with both Avila and Swope following him. Avila is, as Schertz calls him, the hub of his offense. He’s one of the most skilled, unique bigs in college basketball, and if you put just a little bit of shooting and speed around him, it’s probably going to work. Swope was Indiana State’s best scorer before knee problems slowed him midseason, and the offseason will allow him to finally get healthy. Schertz was able to convince Jimerson to take his name out of the portal, keeping one of the best shooters in the country at SLU. He’s a perfect fit for Schertz’s system. Dotzler is a player Schertz loved in high school and gets him on the rebound after struggling to crack the rotation at Creighton. Johnson gives SLU a defensive stopper on the perimeter and was a starter last season for West Virginia. He’ll likely battle Dotzler for that final starting spot on the perimeter. It’s a really good roster in the Atlantic 10, and based on Schertz and Avila’s history together, the offense should sing. The Billikens should be the preseason favorite to win the league.

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Jizzle James, Dan Skillings Jr., Simas Lukosius, Dillon Mitchell (transfer), Aziz Bandaogo

Top reserves: Day Day Thomas, Connor Hickman (transfer), CJ Fredrick, Tyler Betsey (freshman), Tyler McKinley (freshman), Arrinten Page (transfer), Josh Reed

Wes Miller had the 19th-best defense last season and quietly landed one of the most athletic fours in the country in Mitchell, who should make Cincy’s defense even better. It’s not going to be easy scoring in the paint against the length of Mitchell and Bandaogo, who are both pogo sticks. Mitchell was once thought to be a one-and-done, lottery-pick talent. He still has the measurables and athleticism to eventually turn into a pro, and maybe a new system and coach will help him reach his potential. The Bearcats were also in need of shooting, as Lukosius was the only real threat from deep last season once Fredrick was injured. They will benefit from Fredrick receiving a sixth year of eligibility and from Hickman, who averaged 14.5 points and shot 40.2 percent from 3 on a good Bradley team. James and Skillings both played their best ball late in the year; if they both make a leap, don’t be shocked if the Bearcats sneak into the top tier of a very deep Big 12.

Zach Freemantle, shown here way back in 2020, should be healthy again for Xavier. (Joe Robbins / Getty Images)

23. Xavier

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Dayvion McKnight, Dante Maddox Jr. (transfer), Ryan Conwell (transfer), Zach Freemantle, John Hugley IV (transfer)

Top reserves: Trey Green, Dailyn Swain, Jerome Hunter, Marcus Foster (transfer), Lassina Traore (transfer), Cam’Ron Fletcher (transfer)

Remember Freemantle? He averaged 15.2 points and 8.1 rebounds per game on a team that was 17-5 and 9-2 in the Big East before he injured his foot two years ago. After two surgeries, Freemantle is healthy, and Sean Miller has surrounded him with one of the best portal classes in the country. Conwell, who averaged 16.6 points and shot 40.7 percent from 3 for Indiana State, is the up-transfer guard I have the most faith in translating to the high-major level. He has the athleticism and playmaking chops to make an impact. Miller has a good mix of playmakers and shooters on the perimeter and depth at every position.

Previous: 25

Projected starters: Lamont Butler (transfer), Kerr Kriisa (transfer), Koby Brea (transfer), Andrew Carr (transfer), Amari Willams (transfer)

Top reserves: Otega Oweh (transfer), Collin Chandler (freshman), Brandon Garrison (transfer), Ansley Almonor (transfer), Travis Perry (freshman)

It feels like Kentucky is a team full of really good complementary players without a star. But you could have said the same about BYU a year ago, and that team spent most of the year in the Top 25 and had one of the best offenses in college basketball. Mark Pope made it clear he loves shooting and landed two of the best shooters in the portal in Kriisa and Brea. Butler and Oweh give him some athleticism and defensive chops on the perimeter, and Williams and Garrison should do the same on the interior. The one guy who could end up turning into a star is Chandler, a four-star prospect in the 2022 class who spent the last two years on a mission trip. He could change the calculus. But Pope has proven himself as a strong X’s-and-O’s coach, and this is the deepest and most talented roster he’s ever had. Star or no star, this team is probably going to score the ball efficiently and win a lot of games.

25. St. John’s

Previous: NR

Projected starters: Deivon Smith (transfer), Kadary Richmond (transfer), Aaron Scott (transfer), R.J. Luis, Vincent Iwuchukwu (transfer)

Top reserves: Lefteris Liotopoulos (freshman), Zuby Ejiofor, Jaiden Glover (freshman), Simeon Wilcher, Brady Dunlap

Rick Pitino landed two of the best point guards in the portal in Smith and Richmond. Both are ball-dominant guards, and it’s justified to question their fit together, but it’s also justified to bank on Pitino getting the absolute best out of them. Outside of Luis, who averaged 10.9 points after transferring from UMass last season, and Scott (11.0 points per game at North Texas) the roster is mostly unproven. But give Pitino an elite backcourt and a former highly-ranked center in Iwuchukwu, and I’m betting one of the best coaches in the history of the game will figure out a way to win. Those two guards would have been the best players on his team last season, and that group just barely missed the NCAA Tournament.

Next up: Arkansas, UCLA, Louisville, Rutgers, Memphis, Creighton, Maryland, Saint Mary’s, Michigan State, Ohio State, West Virginia, Mississippi State, Georgia, Princeton, Texas, Providence

(Top photos of Ryan Nembhard, Grant Nelson and Dajuan Harris Jr.: Mitchell Layton, Andy Lyons and Christian Petersen / Getty Images)

On May 20 in Atlanta, in the evening game of a doubleheader, Fernando Tatis, Jr. sped 84 feet across the outfield grass in Atlanta and crashed into the Truist Park fence to take away a hit from good friend Ronald Acuña, Jr. The impact knocked him to the ground, leaving significant scrapes.

“That’s the love for the game more than anything else,” Tatis told reporters about the catch afterward. “I knew it was going to hurt.”

Tatis, 25, has always played the game loud, uninhibited. Borderline reckless. He’s known for his leaping and diving catches, for dancing in the outfield and skipping around the bases and stealing home. In 2021, Tatis became the youngest player ever to grace the cover of “MLB the Show.” His jersey sales were among the league’s top three. Young fans tried to emulate his swing and his swagger, copying his epic bat flips and salivating over his shoes.

Tatis’ ever-changing cleats this season are flashy and fun, but the fact that he is a star without a shoe sponsorship deal is also a reminder of what else he is known for now. Two years ago, just months after he signed a 14-year, $340 million contract extension that set a record for a player who hadn’t yet reached salary arbitration, the league found the steroid Clostebol in his system. Tatis, who was on rehab assignment during the failed drug test, was suspended 80 games. He initially claimed the failed drug test was because of a treatment for ringworm, but later apologized for his actions and took accountability.

Once viewed as the future face of baseball, Tatis was immediately dropped by Adidas. Gatorade and Dairy Queen ads featuring him were pulled, and he acquired a new, unflattering label: steroid user.

Tatis, who was also coming off multiple surgeries, won a Platinum Gold Glove last season, his first in the outfield. But he struggled at the plate, hitting .257/.322/.449 with a 112 OPS+. On the road, Tatis was booed. On the national scale, baseball found other young stars to promote in the 564 days Tatis spent between big-league games.

This season, Tatis, the son of former big leaguer Fernando Tatis, still isn’t hitting as he once did — .244/.328/.412 through Wednesday. But his enthusiasm for the game has returned, and he is feeling more like himself.

“I actually love being under the radar,” Tatis, Jr. said in front of his locker this spring. Then, realizing how surprising that sounds, he dips his head back and cackles. “But also, we can’t deny ourselves.”

On the field, Tatis is responsible for some of the game’s most emphatic bat flips, often accompanied by yelling, jumping, or pounding his chest. Off of it, you have to strain to hear him. Behind the animated plays, Tatis is soft-spoken — “sweet,” as first-year Padres manager Mike Shildt puts it.

“I’ve always been quieter than my siblings,” said Tatis who is from San Pedro de Macorís, Dominican Republic. “I like to listen and to laugh.”

Tatis’ first steps in the big leagues were as a young child, following his dad in the clubhouse in Montreal, toting a tiny bat and taking swings on the field. In New York with the Mets, Sr. would take Jr. to the batting cages and encourage him to talk to the other big leaguers, players like Jose Reyes, Carlos Delgado and Angel Pagan. Tatis Sr. finished his career playing a few seasons in winter ball, and by then, Tatis Jr., already showing signs of being a star, was old enough to pay close attention and hone his skills.

In 2015, at age 16, he signed with the White Sox. They later traded him to the Padres, and by 2019, Manny Machado and then-Padres veteran Eric Hosmer were lobbying general manager A.J. Preller to bring Tatis up from the minors, saying that if the Padres were serious about winning, Tatis needed to be on the team. Preller listened, and Tatis’s career launched in a hurry.

Tatis finished third in NL Rookie of the Year voting that year despite appearing in only 84 games after a season-ending back injury. The following season, he finished fourth in the NL MVP race and was third in 2022. He was a two-time Silver Slugger, an All-Star in 2021, on the cover of “MLB The Show,” and he had his own colorway of Adidas’ Ultra Boost running shoe.

“It was a lot,” Tatis said, looking back at his first few years in the league. “It was a lot more than baseball. I don’t want to say I got misguided, but sometimes I got a little bit distracted.”

Then it all came crashing down. When the news became public that Tatis had tested positive for a performance-enhancing drug, he was at Double-A San Antonio on rehab assignment for a broken wrist from a motorcycle accident suffered in the Dominican during the offseason. The injury occurred during baseball’s lockout, when teams were prohibited from talking to players. Tatis showed up to spring training with the wrist still sore, and a subsequent MRI confirmed the fracture. He was on the cusp of returning when the suspension was levied.

Reaction to the suspension was swift and visceral. Tatis’ bobblehead night was canceled, his presence almost immediately scrubbed from team videos on the JumboTron. A giant mural of Tatis on Petco Park’s exterior was taken down. The guy baseball couldn’t get enough of was nowhere to be found.

“It’s not an easy situation, reputationally. People are going to make judgments,” Preller said. “He’s had to deal with that in the last couple years.”

When Tatis reported to spring training last year, he was still suspended, but was able to train with the team. He went to work with Padres outfield coach David Macias, who helped Tatis make the transition from shortstop to right field, a move precipitated by the hope that having less action and fewer collisions would keep Tatis, who has had multiple shoulder dislocations and several other injuries in his short career, healthier.

When he returned on April 20, 2023, Tatis — now in right field — had a front-row seat to fans’ hostility. Teammate Nelson Cruz, who was suspended 50 games in 2013 for his involvement in the Biogenesis scandal, became a voice of support, as did Machado. Padres pitcher Joe Musgrove, one of the handful of veterans Tatis first addressed his suspension with, said teammates were quick to move on. But, he told Tatis, eventually he needed to forgive himself.

“You can’t let it linger over your head, ‘I’m known as this cheater and this guy that took steroids and I have to act a certain way,’” Musgrove said. “It’s over. Now move on so you can be the player that you were before the steroid use. He was unbelievable before any of that happened. I continue to believe that he’s going to be a great player after.”

In 141 games in 2023, Tatis was a great defender — second among outfielders in Defensive Runs Saved (+27) and Ultimate Zone Rating (+12.3) — but he was a more pedestrian hitter.

This past offseason, Tatis returned to the Dominican Republic, and for the first time since he became a big leaguer he played winter ball, returning to his former team, Estrellas Orientales in Lidom. His coach? His father. Though he only played in a few winter ball games, Tatis put on an offensive show reminiscent of his best days.

“I needed that. I needed to play again,” said Tatis.

Said Machado, “It’s given him a chip on his shoulder heading into (this season), which I don’t think is a bad thing.”

Tatis entered spring training more vocal with teammates and in meetings, more confident, free of the uncertainty of how his presence would be perceived.

“I told him, ‘we’re going to win with you being more outspoken,’” Machado said. “’We need you, people look up to you. If you use your voice, you’re going to lead us in the right direction.’ And he’s been doing it ever since the offseason. He’s definitely matured in a big way.”

Asked what he’s learned the past two years, Tatis said, “things are never as bad as they seem.”

The Padres are asking Tatis to cover more ground in his second season as an outfielder, a way to better utilize his athleticism and also help rookie center fielder Jackson Merrill. In the early going, Tatis has experimented with playing closer to centerfield and deeper.

“He’s going to be able to change the game, robbing home runs and making really athletic plays where he’s leaping over the wall or jumping off it acrobatically,” Macias said. “There’s just not a lot of players like him in the game.”

Tatis’ offense, he and his teammates believe, will eventually return to its peak.

“The field is like his playground,” said Macias, who was impressed that Tatis took live reps in batting practice before every game last year, an unusual habit in the big leagues. “He’s always trying to create something and he’s never content. He wants to master everything, and because of that you are going to keep seeing a better Tati.”

If 2023 was the Redemption Tour, 2024 feels like it can be about baseball again for Tatis. Even after his suspension, Tatis is still one of the more marketable players in baseball. He’s charismatic, Latino in a sport where nearly half of its players are born outside the U.S., speaks perfect English and plays with a showman’s flair. He has already added new partnerships this year, appearing in an Opening Day ad for Corona and securing a deal with Champs, with a handful of other potential companies being discussed.

For all the ups and downs Tatis’ career has seen, he’s still only 25.

“He’s how old?” Musgrove said.

Cronenworth, 30, laughed when Tatis’s age is mentioned, then said: “I feel like he should be closer to my age.”

Tatis says he does want to be the face of baseball again, or to at least be in that conversation, but only because that would mean he’s playing at an All-Star level. And along the way, he believes that fans will come to see that there’s more to him below the surface.

“There is still a lot that people don’t know about me,” he said this spring, before grabbing his glove and heading out to the field. “It will come out with time.”

(Top image: John Bradford / The Athletic; Photos: Rob Tringali / Getty Images)

Nobody is quite sure about when the largest grandstand in Europe earned the name it is now famous for, though it is certain it happened more recently than most people think.

The Yellow Wall at Borussia Dortmund’s Westfalenstadion was described by German author and writer Uli Hesse in 2018 as the thing that Bayern Munich, the most successful and powerful club in that country, did not have: “a massive terrace that seemed like a throwback to football’s golden age”.

This architectural beast can hold 24,454 spectators for Bundesliga games — more than twice as many as Celtic’s fabled ‘Jungle’ did in the 1960s, and only slightly less than the maximum capacity of the Kop at Anfield during the same period, a golden age in Liverpool’s history.

“Unlike the Jungle or the Kop, the term Yellow Wall is not very old,” Hesse stressed, using Kicker, the most popular football magazine in Germany, as a reference point for its relevance. Only in May 2009 did the description ‘Yellow Wall’ appear in its pages for the first time and that was because of the reflections of Dortmund’s then goalkeeper Roman Weidenfeller when he found out 10,000 of the club’s fans had travelled to a game against Eintracht Frankfurt.

“It’s incredible; even when we are playing away from home, the yellow wall will be there,” Weidenfeller said.

Yet another 21 months would pass before Kicker started to use the expression regularly, helping it become an established term in the global football language.

This was around the time Dortmund won the Bundesliga two seasons in a row under the management of Jurgen Klopp, who had transformed underachieving giants into a club competing for domestic and also European honours.

His Dortmund side would lose the Champions League final to Bayern at Wembley in May 2013.

This weekend, the club have the opportunity to win, at the same London venue, the same trophy for the first time since their only triumph in the competition in 1997. On this occasion, Real Madrid are the opponents and Dortmund, who finished fifth in the Bundesliga this season, 27 points behind champions Bayer Leverkusen, are a talented side but not quite in the same state of rude health as 11 years ago.

Klopp’s charisma and achievements helped Dortmund become the second club for lots of football supporters across Europe. Yet iconology was also a significant feature of Dortmund’s attraction.

Their popular former manager, who left Liverpool in May after almost nine years, described the experience of seeing the Yellow Wall as you emerge from the Westfalenstadion’s bowels as an almost out-of-body experience.

“This dark tunnel, it’s exactly two metres high (just under 6ft 7in), and when you come out it’s like being born,” the 6ft 3in Klopp said. “You come out and the place explodes — out of the darkness, into the light. You look to your left and it seems like there are 150,000 people up on the terrace all going completely nuts.”

Weidenfeller was a leader in Klopp’s team: “If you are the enemy, it crushes you, but if you have it at your back as a goalkeeper, it’s a fantastic feeling.”

This view was supported by Bayern’s Champions League and World Cup-winning midfielder Bastian Schweinsteiger, who later played for Manchester United and MLS team Chicago Fire. When he was asked whether he was more worried by Dortmund’s players or their manager, Klopp, he responded: “It’s the Yellow Wall that scares me the most.”

The sheer scale of the structure offers an array of vantage points. “From the front of the lower tier you can almost scratch the goalkeeper on the back — while way up high below the roof, where there is an inclined angle of 37 degrees, it’s like a ski jump,” concluded the German news magazine, Der Spiegel.

According to Hesse, Daniel Lorcher, born in 1985, was “more or less responsible” for creating the Yellow Wall term. In 2004, when Dortmund were facing doom on and off the pitch and as their financial position became bleaker, the club’s largest ultras group produced a mosaic that paraphrased an Oscar Wilde aphorism, “Many walk through dark alleys, but only a few are looking at the stars.”

Lorcher was a leading member of The Unity, who stood in the centre of what was then known simply as the Sudtribune, right behind the goal. It was their job to make as much noise as possible but Lorcher felt there were greater possibilities at Dortmund, due to the size of that stand. If the ultras could involve other fans, persuading them to dress in bright yellow while holding flags and banners of the same colour, say, the effect would be startling, helping Dortmund’s players, as well as potentially creating more of an intimidating atmosphere for opponents.

This not only required a huge amount of fabric, but it all had to be in the right shade of yellow.

Lorcher and other ultras contacted a Danish retail chain which had stores all over Germany. “They sold us more than three miles of cloth and we produced four thousand flags,” Lorcher told Hesse. “We rented sewing machines for weeks on end and then had to learn how to use them. It was hard work, but we had lots of fun.”

As the 2004-05 season reached its finale and Dortmund avoided oblivion, “the flags bathed the entire stand in yellow” before a home game with Hansa Rostock, Hesse wrote in his book, Building The Yellow Wall.

One of the banners read: “At the end of the dark alley shines the yellow wall,” and another said: “Yellow Wall, South Stand Dortmund.”

Since 2005, the Westfalenstadion has been known as Signal Iduna Park after the club decided to use a sponsorship deal to reduce a debt, which was eventually paid off to bank Morgan Stanley three years later.

There were lots of contributing factors towards Dortmund’s precarious financial state during that period and one of them was the demand for stadiums to be converted into all-seater venues in the wake of the 1989 Hillsborough disaster in England.

In the summer of 1992, the Westfalenstadion’s north stand terracing was converted into a seated area, reducing the overall capacity from 54,000 to less than 43,000. The club’s directors realised they could charge more money for a comfier experience but there was a reluctance to subject the southern Sudtribune (as it is still referred to by older Dortmunders) to the same treatment after discussions with fans, who made them realise the terrace was the club’s only real marketing tool.

After Dortmund beat 3-1 Juventus in Munich, securing the Champions League title in May 1997, the south stand was doubled in size. As the stadium became bigger and safer, Dortmund spent more money than ever on players. But more success did not follow and, by 2005, there was a real chance the club might go out of business.

Today, Dortmund’s ground is the biggest in Germany, while their mean attendance in the Bundesliga is greater than any other Bundesliga club — including Bayern: this season, Dortmund averaged over 81,000 and Bayern, at their futuristic Allianz Arena, were at 75,000. Between Dortmund and the third- and fourth-placed teams (Eintracht Frankfurt and Stuttgart), the drop was nearly 26,000, which is only slightly more than the capacity of the Yellow Wall alone, a terrace that could accommodate the population of a reasonably-sized town.

The Yellow Wall salutes Marco Reus at his final home game this month (Dean Mouhtaropoulos/Getty Images)

Though the stadium’s capacity is reduced to make it an all-seater stand on European nights, the three clubs with the lowest average attendances in the Bundesliga (Union Berlin, Darmstadt and Heidenheim) could get their entire crowds onto the Sudtribune with room to spare; yet the club have not really sought to capitalise on it economically in a direct way.

Hesse even suggests the Yellow Wall “hurts” Dortmund in this sense, because ticket prices have been kept so low.

On average, season-ticket holders pay €14 (£11.90/$15.10) per match, but if Dortmund put seats there and charged more, the club, according to Hesse, would lose a sense of their soul.

The fact that, according to the financial experts at Forbes and Deloitte, Dortmund are not even in the top 20 clubs in Europe when it comes to matchday revenue (when they have one of the biggest stadiums on the continent) is a reflection of the attitude that exists in their region, the industrial heartland of Germany. Instead, there is a residual monetary benefit from the Yellow Wall, with businesses including chemical company Evonik, brewer Brinkhoff’s and pump manufacturer Wilo keen to be associated with a creation that is authentic to a working-class region of the country.

The Westfalenstadion has become a tourist destination but the Yellow Wall remains unaffected for the time being.

The biggest decision for visitors, says Hesse, is whether to join the party on the terrace, or watch its radiance from afar.

(Top photo: Alex Gottschalk/DeFodi Images via Getty Images)

LANCASTER, Pa. — Standing on the fringe of Lancaster Country Club’s 9th green, moments after stroking her final putt of the day, Nelly Korda opened her purple scorecard holder, looked down, and sighed so deeply that the expansion of her ribcage was visible from steps away.

Her shoulders lifted. Then they sank. A big, fat first-round 80 at the U.S. Women’s Open stared back up at her, the sight of her septuple bogey 10 early in the round likely sending shivers up her spine once again.

The world No.1 did not look like herself Thursday. She’s won six tournaments in seven starts on the LPGA Tour this season, including the first major, the Chevron Championship. She managed to raise trophies with her B game. But Korda still crumbled in the face of this U.S. Open test. She didn’t have it. It’ll take an all-time second round on a tough setup to even think about making the cut.

“I’m human,” Korda said after signing for her 10-over-par score. “I’m going to have bad days. I played some really solid golf up to this point. Today was just a bad day. That’s all I can say.”

There wasn’t much more to it than that. Korda’s game escaped her on a golf course that demands precision and control. It started after her third tee shot of the day, on the downhill 161-yard par-3 12th, which one player described as a hole that gives you “nowhere to miss.” Korda learned that the hard way.

After waiting on the tee box for more than 25 minutes, Korda’s group had seen it all. Ingrid Lindblad, the No. 1 amateur in the world, dumped one into the creek short of the green. Gaby Lopez caught a gust of wind so strong that her ball ended up short of the same hazard. Once the green had finally cleared, Korda decided to use the information she’d collected during the excruciatingly long delay. She clubbed up, even making sure to tee her ball a club length behind the markers for good measure, and blasted a 6-iron into the back bunker. The ball was safe. But not for long.

With a leaf inconveniently nestled beneath her ball in the sand, Korda’s shot never had a chance of coming to a halt on the slick back-to-front sloping putting surface. Her ball plunged into the water. She took a drop on the opposite side of the meandering creek. One penalty shot. She chipped, and her ball rolled back into the water — again. Two penalty shots. Another drop. Another chip in the creek. Three penalty shots. With her third chip, she finally went long of the cup.

Two putts. A 10 on the scorecard.

World No 1 women’s golfer Nelly Korda cards a 10 (!) at the par-3 12th at the US Women’s Open #OneOfUs pic.twitter.com/pknN91pLKT

— Heavens! (@HeavensFX) May 30, 2024

Korda was gasping for air the rest of the day. Pars felt like small victories. The sloppy mistakes continued to sting, and her pace of play was noticeably quicker.

“I just didn’t want to shoot 80, and I just kept making bogeys,” Korda said, suddenly remembering her recent history at this championship. “My last two rounds in the U.S. Women’s Open have not been good. I ended Sunday at Pebble I think shooting 81, and then today I shot 80.”

Korda’s front-nine total climbed so high that the standard bearer walking with her group struggled to find the right number cards to represent her score next to her name, momentarily leaving the spot blank, to the confusion of many spectators. She finished her first nine with a 10-over 45.

Albeit puzzled by Korda’s play — and sometimes silent as she let her driver plummet to the ground after off-line tee shots — those same spectators never left. They came out in droves Thursday morning to watch the world No. 1 walk the narrow fairways at Lancaster, a crowd befitting her new status in the game but one that hasn’t always been the case because of venue or other external factors. After getting wind of her septuple bogey, one local mother and daughter rushed to the course, hoping to get a glimpse of Korda before she potentially missed the weekend.

Korda’s robust gallery was by far the largest of the morning wave, and its members were just as content clapping in awe of her brilliance as they were offering her words of encouragement as she somehow salvaged a back-nine 35 with three birdies.

The world No. 1’s battle at Lancaster on Thursday was as relatable as it gets. This game is fickle. It’s maddening. Sometimes it makes no sense. Sometimes it can feel like a breeze. And no one has understood the latter better than Korda, who’s been living at the top of the leaderboard for the better part of three months. But she’s also aware that in this sport, that feeling doesn’t last forever — not even for the best player in the world.

Tuesday, Korda spoke of the phenomenon, almost foreshadowing the carnage that would ensue two days later. “I think that’s what makes this game so great. You can be on top of the world the first two days, and then you wake up and you’re like, what am I doing right now? Why am I hitting it sideways? And you have no idea what’s going on,” Korda said. “It’s funny, golf is such a hard game.”

After signing her scorecard, answering exactly three questions about her round in the interview room, and congregating with her team behind the clubhouse, Korda headed back to the range. When she got to her spot at the leftmost edge of the hitting area, she didn’t rush to grab a club or pause to scroll through missed messages on her phone. She sat on the turf, legs crossed over one another. Korda remained still for several moments, alone.

She just needed a second.

(Top photo: Patrick Smith / Getty Images)