An Olympic crisis is coming for Team USA. Curling can help | Commentary

On Friday night, a record 232 U.S. athletes are expected to attend the opening ceremonies of the 2026 Winter Olympics in Italy. Behind that impressive number, though, a quiet crisis is looming over the medal podium – one that might prevent the country from rolling this deep into subsequent competitions again.

Of those athletes, 88 competed collegiately, according to the U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee. But dozens of Olympic sports have been cut from college athletic departments in the last year alone, with more to come.

How can the U.S. stay competitive with a leak in this pipeline? An answer might be found in an unlikely sport: curling.

Right about now, American sports fans may be raising an eyebrow at the idea. More U.S. adults are drawn to figure skating or ice hockey, and curling is still, for many, a once-every-four-years oddity – not a blueprint. But the sport has cracked the code on thriving without institutional backing, and it didn’t happen by accident.

To see this success story for myself, I traveled to the Four Seasons Curling Club in Blaine, Minnesota. There, Tabitha Peterson – skip of the U.S. women’s Olympic curling team – extended her body, glided low across the surface, and released a 40-pound stone. At the other end of the ice, Phill Drobnick, the national team director, held a stopwatch and watched as Peterson’s teammates swept brooms in front of the rock, guiding it.

Community clubs like this one have helped American curlers become globally competitive over the last decade. They’re an entry point – developing players who advance through regional tournaments overseen by USA Curling, the national governing body for the sport. The best – coached up and supported by USA Curling – form the Olympic team.

Not long ago, things looked differently. In the mid-2000s curling was still widely viewed as a recreational activity played in dozens of community-based clubs. The culture was fun and fiercely democratic, with players forming their own teams to compete for Olympic berths.

It seemed to work. The U.S. men won Olympic bronze in 2006.

But the Americans fell behind as the rest of the world was professionalizing the sport. After poor finishes at the 2010 and 2014 Winter Games, a frustrated U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee (USOPC) issued an ultimatum. Curling had to fix its program, or risk defunding and possible decertification. Easier said than done.

Traditionalists stubbornly resisted reforms that would impede self-formed club teams from competing at the highest level. Drobnick, reflecting upon USA Curling’s past, described a comfortable, amateur culture. “Coaches tended to be friends or tended to be an old teammate or a lot of time a family member that was there just to support you,” he recalled.

There were also deeper structural problems. Many niche Olympic sports rely on college athletic departments to fund elite development, but curling has never been recognized as a varsity sport by the National Collegiate Athletic Association. And like every other U.S. Olympic sport, it doesn’t get a dime from the federal government.

That left curling operating in isolation. Now, as college athletic programs slash Olympic sports, such as swimming, diving and men’s gymnastics, curling’s dilemma is becoming common.

Considering how things had gone in 2010 and 2014, it would’ve been understandable if USA Curling had tried to replace its decentralized, community-based operation with a top-down, centralized model.

Instead, it doubled down on clubs, transforming them into development hubs and expanding national tournaments, especially for younger athletes. An under-18 championship now gives teens a competitive goal, lets coaches scout talent, and enables merit-based team selection.

The beauty of this model is its practicality. With curlers scattered from New York to Alaska, and a 2026 USA Curling budget of just over $3 million, a centralized national training center is unrealistic. (For context, U.S. Figure Skating reported roughly $25 million in total expenses in fiscal 2024.)

Instead, USA Curling runs regional development camps that create consistent coaching and standards across the country for a fraction of the cost.

The more formal talent pipeline allows better resource allocation to elite athletes at all stages, and, in turn, attracts more sponsorship, paid memberships and USOPC support.

Crucially, the structure exists in parallel with the grassroots version, often literally. While I watched Peterson and her teammates practice, a recreational team played on the other side of the ice. The amateurs were unlikely future Olympians, but sharing space and a system with the Olympians strengthens the sport and its long-term prospects.

The results speak for themselves: in 2018, the men’s team won a gold medal. This year, the U.S. is one of a handful of competitors in all three curling disciplines (men’s, women’s, and mixed doubles), and medal fever is high.

But curling’s surge holds significance far beyond the sport itself. As college backing for niche programs wanes, leading to roster shrinkage, survival will require some initiative.

For many disciplines – track, Nordic skiing, wrestling, among others – independent clubs already exist outside the college system. National federations should follow curling’s example and deliberately strengthen those avenues.

Of course, building community-based programs won’t be a cure-all. Clubs can’t fully replace scholarships that provide athletes with room, board and professional-level coaching, and some sports simply don’t fit the model. Sliding sports like bobsled, for example, have fewer than 20 Olympic-caliber tracks worldwide. But for sports with lower barriers to entry, the lesson is clear. Olympic competitiveness can be built from the grassroots.

The proof is on the ice in Blaine. Following practice, Drobnick told me that he thinks “we’re in the best shape I’ve experienced going into an Olympics.” For sports facing an uncertain future, that confidence reflects a blueprint that works.

Adam Minter is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering the business of sports. He is the author, most recently, of “Secondhand: Travels in the New Global Garage Sale.”