Hot House of Champions

By SALLY B. DONNELLY

When O.J. Simpson reflects on his childhood in San Francisco, it is not the house on the hill he remembers most but the football field up the street. Simpson grew up in a low-income housing project, but he lived on the fields and in the gym of the public sports park nearby, honing the skills that would take him to the pro-football Hall of Fame. The well-maintained facility was home to leagues in virtually every sport. "For the gangs of those days, the rec center was the focus of activity," Simpson recalls. "There was always room, and there were always opportunities."

For legions of elite athletes like Simpson, California remains the land of upward mobility. The state has produced legions of homegrown sports stars (sprinter Florence Griffith Joyner, high diver Greg Louganis, slugger Darryl Strawberry) and has polished the skills of legions more who moved to California to train (swimmer Janet Evans, decathlete Jackie Joyner-Kersee, volleyball player Karch Kiraly). From title-winning ice skaters (Debi Thomas) to record-setting long jumpers (Mike Powell), from Olympic champion swimmers (Matt Biondi) to gold-medal skiers (Bill Johnson), California is the American sports machine. Nearly 30% of the U.S. athletes at the 1988 Summer Olympics were native or transplanted Californians. They won 30 medals -- 32% of the U.S. total.

Some of the reasons for the dominance of California athletes are obvious. First is nearly ideal year-round weather; in much of the state, the idea of a rain delay is a foreign concept. "It was just natural that we played sports anywhere, anytime," says Cheryl Miller, a Los Angeles native who developed into one of the best women basketball players of all time and a 1984 Olympic gold medalist. "I certainly wouldn't have been the player I was if I grew up somewhere else."

Then there is the state's unparalleled sports infrastructure. California boasts some of the world's best sporting mentors, among them UCLA volleyball coach Al Scates, Stanford University swimming coach Skip Kenney, ice-skating coach Frank Carroll of the Ice Castles Training Center in Lake Arrowhead and gymnastics coach Don Peters of the Southern California Acrobatic Team in Huntington Beach. A vast network of facilities, leagues, coaches and clubs crisscrosses the state.

Add to those factors the leisure-time culture made possible by the state's past prosperity. California has been a boom state for most of the past 30 years, but with their dedication to work, people brought a devotion to play. "Middle-class values about work have combined with an affluent attitude toward sport and leisure. And unlike in any other state, here it was possible," says Peters, who has turned out 40 members of the U.S. women's national volleyball team and 13 Olympians since 1963.

More abstract -- even spiritual -- ingredients also help put California first. "This is still 'Land's End,' " says sociologist Harry Edwards, a professor at the University of California, Berkeley. "California continues to offer a sense of hope and opportunity that other parts of the country do not and cannot." Speed and strength are available anywhere, but in few places are they as prized as in the Golden State. As author Herbert Gold observed, "This Dorado of escapees from elsewhere has produced a new race -- the Californian. So much athletic grace is almost unnatural."

But others are now vying with California. Sunbelt states like Texas and Florida already have top-flight sports systems at the high school and university levels. Recent research supporting the benefits of high-altitude training will continue to attract athletes to mountainous states like Colorado and Utah.

The state's fiscal crunch could also threaten its sports supremacy. Since 1989, the nation's troubled economy has reached into California with a vengeance. With nearly 8% of its population unemployed and budget deficits hamstringing state and local governments, sports facilities are sure to be hit. Especially threatened are programs for poor urban neighborhoods, where sports are a vital diversion and sometimes a way out.

"The funding is drying up, and the inner cities are going to suffer the most," asserts Ed Fox, publisher of Track & Field News. "We've already seen a significant drop-off of athletes from places like Oakland, which used to be rich in young talent." Brooks Johnson, former athletic director at Stanford, says some fundamental economic choices must be made if California is to continue producing sports stars at its usual rate. "It's volleyball or vandalism. Either we invest in our youth, or we are going to ruin whole segments of the population."

For now, California remains the national champion. But if financial problems are not addressed, the state's climate and coaching will mean little when game time comes. The question will not be who wins or loses, but who gets a chance to play.