Here’s a shocking truth: some of the most accomplished athletes in the world are competing in near-empty arenas, and hardly anyone seems to care. But one professor at Arizona State University is on a mission to change that. Meet Matthew McCarthy, an information systems professor whose passion for women’s and non-revenue sports has sparked a revolution on campus. McCarthy isn’t just upset about the lack of attention these athletes receive—he’s downright furious. And he’s doing something about it.
It all started in 2003 when McCarthy attended a Sun Devil volleyball game and was stunned by the low turnout. Determined to make a difference, he began offering extra credit to students in his Computer Information Systems (CIS) 105 class for attending non-football sporting events. Fast forward to this year, and McCarthy’s focus shifted to the ASU swim and dive team—national champions who were drawing crowds of just 50 people. “How the hell is this happening?” McCarthy wondered. And this is where the story takes a dramatic turn.
On October 3, 2025, McCarthy’s efforts culminated in a historic event: 2,867 fans packed the Mona Plummer Aquatic Center for ASU’s home opener against UNLV. The venue was so crowded that fans spilled into the parking lot. But here’s where it gets controversial: Was this massive turnout a genuine win for the sport, or just a byproduct of academic incentives? Let’s dive deeper.
McCarthy’s CIS 105 class, which includes nearly 4,000 first-year students, has been a game-changer for attendance at events like volleyball, water polo, and women’s soccer over the past 22 years. With the help of ASU Swim and Dive head coach Herbie Behm and weeks of social media promotion, the class turned its attention to the pool. The result? A spectacle that made waves across the swimming community, local news, and even inspired other coaches to take notice.
The Sun Devils dominated the meet, with the men and women’s teams crushing UNLV. But the real story was the electric atmosphere. Behm, who had never been a fan of altering traditional meet formats, went all in—installing a beer garden, hiring announcers, and even live-streaming the event for under $400. McCarthy’s students showed up in full force, some with chests painted in maroon and gold, cheering wildly as their professor stomped on a cardboard box in ASU tradition.
But here’s the part most people miss: Did this event actually grow the sport? McCarthy and Behm both acknowledge that many students were motivated by extra credit. Yet, they argue that the exposure alone was worth it. “If we get 50 new fans out of this, it’s an incredible win,” Behm said. Is he right? Or is this just a temporary fix for a deeper problem?
McCarthy’s impact extends beyond a single meet. Former students still message him about events they attended years ago, and even opposing coaches have reached out to request his support. Yet, McCarthy plans to stop offering extra credit after this semester, leaving the future of these initiatives uncertain. Behm, however, is determined to keep the momentum going, aiming to hype up future meets and inspire creativity across the swimming community.
So, here’s the question for you: Can academic incentives truly grow a sport, or are they just a band-aid solution? And what more can be done to ensure that athletes like ASU’s swimmers get the recognition they deserve? Let’s start the conversation—agree or disagree, I want to hear your thoughts in the comments.
