Maggie Wells | A Sporty Backstory for Love Games

When people find out I've set my Love Games series in the world of college athletics, they often ask if I played myself. I wish.

Like most jock-types, my dreams of glory started early but were met with adversity.

I had a Dorothy Hamill haircut and a pink skating dress my big sister sewed for
me, but our local ice rink closed just as I was getting my skates under me.

My father covered our back yard in asphalt and installed a regulation goal for
my five older brothers. I could (and still can) hit a backwards bucket shot from
anywhere within the three-point arc. Even in my First Communion dress.

Sadly, I topped out at 5' 4", which made me an easy mark for any player blessed
with greater height. I can't tell you how many times I swatted air when trying
to get at a jump ball in seventh grade.

And spiking over a volleyball net? Forget it. I can bump and set with the best
of them, but this girl can't jump.

Despite being vertically challenged, my love of all things sporty has never
abated. I live for college football season each year. I can bemoan the allowance
of intentional fouls with the best of them. I love the Olympics. I've even been
known to combine sports, like grilling chicken while the hubby and I shoot some
hoops.

But I find the evolution of college athletics fascinating. It's a
multi-billion-dollar business, being run under the umbrella of academia, and
built on the muscle of players who are not paid to play. Fan bases are vocal and
voluble. Big money boosters wield power like sledgehammers. Athletic programs
have become a source of massive funding, even for state-run institutions. In
2016, the highest paid employees in 39 states were men's football or basketball
coaches. Talk about a hotbed of conflict!

When I set out to write a series with high drama, high stakes, I simply followed
the money—and my heart—and it led me right back to my own back yard, so to speak.

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