The name, image, likeness—or NIL—era of college sports is in full swing, which means athletes playing at colleges and universities can earn money through endorsement deals and more. Now it's reaching into high school. Imagine teenage athletes with millions of dollars in their pockets. The writer Abigail Covington interviewed a few of these young stars to try to answer the question: Is this the best thing to happen to high school sports—or the worst? Read her story here. – Michael Sebastian, editor-in-chief Plus: |
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Prep athletes can now profit from their name, image, and likeness in most states, just like college stars. Is it the best thing to ever happen to high school sports—or the worst? |
As of this summer, forty-four states plus Washington, D. C., now allow high school athletes to profit from their name, image, and likeness. Only a handful—including Alabama and Ohio, known for powerhouse college football programs—still do not. But even among those that do, no two states regulate NIL quite the same way. The result is a messy state-by-state patchwork of rules that has created a nation of unequal opportunities for today's top athletes, leaving some blue-chip quarterbacks like Lewis incredibly wealthy at a young age; others, like top quarterback recruit Trent Seaborn from Alabama, forced to either move or turn down major financial opportunities; and coaches and families scrambling to figure out how to navigate a newly monetized landscape that some experts say has the potential to undermine the entire academic enterprise as we know it. Whether the most dire predictions come true, one thing is already clear: For elite high school athletes, the days of playing purely for the love of the game, for the bright Friday-night lights that shine over your local school district, are over. |
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At the Circuit of the Americas race-track in Austin, there's a smooth straightaway between the hairpin at turn 11 and the brake-melting turn 12. Nearly two thirds of a mile long, it is beloved by pros and lucky amateurs as a place where throttles open, slipstreams occur, and the fastest speeds in a race happen. NASCAR drivers hit close to 180 miles per hour here. F1 cars touch 214. MotoGP riders routinely flirt with 220. I, a lucky amateur, did more than 170 miles per hour in the 2025 Corvette ZR1. Life will never be the same. |
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The most preposterous part of preppy style is how it has stealthily taken over the world. What once could have been dismissed as an inbred subculture rooted in a small pocket of the United States has become, quite simply, the cornerstone of how many of us—especially men—dress. It has been tweaked by Japanese Harajuku kids, Black American civil-rights pioneers, young Parisians from conservative families, and Britain's Sloane Rangers, and it has provided an inspiration and touchstone for fashion designers for almost half a century. For sure, there have been quiet periods—the grungy '90s were not a kind decade for prep—but it is the knotweed of style trends: undefeatable, undeniable. And, true to form, it is everywhere in 2025: in collections for Uniqlo, Gant, and, of course, Ralph Lauren; in upstart brands such as Rowing Blazers, Beams Plus, and Noah. So why do we love—or love to hate—preppy style so much? |
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