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Virginia Russell
Basketball’s Golden Girls: How one league is changing the way we think about the game
Forward Linda Jennings hustles toward the net, two guards at her heels. They attempt a block but she sidesteps them easily, just out of reach. She ducks and feints left with the ball as the players follow. Suddenly she stops, pivots, shoots. “Ball, ball!” The guard’s warning is too late; Jennings’s shot lands with a satisfying swish. Her team whoops in delight while the opposers protest. “Do you want some cheese with your whine?” Jennings teases, a big grin on her face. Everyone heads back to their positions as the drill begins again. This is like any normal basketball practice; shots are taken, plays are reviewed, there’s some trash talking. Very normal, except for the fact that these players are 30 years older than the average team and many can collect Social Security. That doesn’t stop them though. Even after all this time, the Granny Basketball players are still tearing up the court.
This is not your mother’s basketball. Really, a more accurate term would be grandmother’s. For the Cedar Rapids Sizzlers, this is a regular Wednesday night. Every week, the women, all of whom are 50 or older, lace up their non-slip high-tops and head to the Trinity Lutheran School gym to play basketball.
The Sizzlers are in their nineteenth year as a Granny Basketball team. They have 12 members on their roster, many of whom have played off and on for 40 years. All but one played growing up, either in grade or high school, depending whether or not they were allowed. They are a team of former college athletes and mothers, retired teachers, accountants, health care workers, andmore. Their oldest member is 74. The youngest is in her fifties. Sue Hartley is one of the captains. She is 73 and has a no-nonsense attitude and Long Island accent that has stuck around, though she’s lived in the midwest for years. She joined the Sizzlers in 2007, when the league was still small and the team needed people. Sue Cahalan is 66, with a soft voice and kind smile. She’s been a Sizzler since 2010 and was recruited by Diana Marker, the other captain. Marker, who worked with Cahalan’s daughter, was hunting, for players. When Cahalan’s daughter realized what Marker wanted, she spoke up. “Diana’s first comment to her was, ‘Is she tall?’” Cahalan laughs. The rest was history. Like Cahalan, Sizzlers are sought out by members looking for the best crop of older players, many of whom are former athletes trying to stay active and have fun. For those who long to play the game again too, Granny Basketball is an opportunity to get back on the court.
On the sidelines, among the equipment bags and basketball gear, the women converse. They share jokes and discuss what they heard on the news that day. On the court, however, the tone becomes more serious. Everyone is focused, calling out during a screen or commenting on a specific play. While they enjoy each other’s company, there is determination in their performance. Only a few league games are left with the state tournament fast approaching. What are their goals for the season? Cahalan doesn’t mince words: “We want to win it all of course.”
Granny Basketball is a league composed of over 43 competing teams throughout the United States, with locations ranging from California to Louisiana. Each team is grouped into the Central, Eastern, Frontier, Great Lakes, Southern, or Western division. The Sizzlers belong to the Eastern division. Iowa has the most, which is fitting, considering Granny Basketball was founded there in Lansing, a tiny northeastern town perched on the Mississippi River. Barbara McPherson Trammell, its founder, created the game as a way for older women to play and to honor the history of women’s basketball in Iowa. Dating back to the first Iowa high school girls’ state tournament in 1920, McPherson Trammell took the antique rules and infused them into her new game.
The handbook includes old court division rules, in which the court is cut into thirds. The game is played six-on-six, with two forwards, centers, and guards. Only two dribbles are allowed per player. A defensive player cannot touch the ball when an offensive player has possession. Similarly, when shooting, a player cannot block the ball unless it’s out of the shooter's hand. Even the uniforms: collared sailor blouses, billowing bloomers, and knee-high stockings (the Sizzlers wear electric green), are reminiscent of the time period.
At first, Jennings, who also played growing up and in college, wouldn’t join because of the uniforms. Hartley, her long time friend, had been trying to recruit her for years, but she wouldn’t budge. “I’d gone to watch a couple games and was like, ‘I am not wearing those goofy uniforms’. But then when I retired, I went, ‘I’m old now, what difference does it make?’” Jennings says.
Perhaps the most distinct rule of all though is that there is no running or jumping, in order to minimize injury. Doing either will result in a turnover. Cahalan knows how this sounds, but insists the game is still intense.
“We still work up a sweat. The joke is, there’s no running, but you can hurry,” she says. And she’s right. Watching the women on the court it’s hard to deny they aren’t moving fast. During a practice drill, Marker, the oldest, makes a perfect overhead pass and hurries back to her spot with surprising agility. As for rule following, players usually do, but occasional contact happens. “There’s not supposed to be any, but obviously when you’ve got ladies out on the court that are chasing down the ball or going for a rebound, there is contact,” Cahalan says. For younger players who aren’t used to the slower style, adapting is harder.
As Cahalan puts it, “Their brain still thinks they’re 16 years old, but the body says differently.”
The physicality aspect is not as necessary, and can hurt more than help. “With the younger people, they come in during the first year and they're out of control, and too aggressive, but they learn real quickly in games because they’ll foul out,” says Jennings. Aggression is another issue. There was an incident last year with another Iowa team, in which the intensity boiled over between Jennings and another player. (The Sizzlers decided against sharing the team’s name). According to Jennings, “I set a screen and they would just plow me over. I literally went flying across the court.”
“She said, ‘She does that to me again, I’m just gonna deck her,’” Hartley says. Clearly, the fire hasn’t faded over time, nor the desire to win. As Cahalan mentioned, the Sizzlers are on track to play at the state tournament in June and then the national tournament in August. In the past 12 years, they’ve won state five times and nationals three times. Currently, they are tied with the Harper’s Ferry Fireflies, who also hold four national wins. The Fireflies, another Iowa team, are young, tall, aggressive, and the Sizzlers’ biggest rivals.
“We’ve always had it in with Harper’s Ferry,” Hartley says. “It’s been back and forth between them and us for years and years.”
It started in 2015, when the Sizzlers won their second nationals. The Fireflies came in third at both tournaments. The following year the teams switched, and have since stuck to a curiously consistent pattern of exchanged wins and losses. Last year, the Sizzlers came in first at state but third in nationals, and the Fireflies were second. However, this year the Sizzlers have a 7-0 record so far, and the Fireflies have 7-1. Any guesses as to who beat them? “We have to have good defense and force them to make bad passes on offense, and don't take shots that aren’t sure things,” says Hartley on how to win. “That’s how we beat Harper’s Ferry last year.”
McKenna Roering
It was an abnormally warm winter day in the Quad Cities.
DJ Carton was at his family’s house in Bettendorf, Iowa, preparing to drive to Des Moines to resume his basketball season with the Iowa Wolves, the Minnesota Timberwolves’ G League affiliate.
But those plans were about to change.
His phone rang.
In a state of shock, Carton could only get a few words out to his father, the only one home at the time.
“I’m going to Toronto,” Carton told his dad.
“Hell yeah!” his father, Dale, remembered yelling as the pair slapped hands and embraced.
That was all the time they had for celebration.
The Raptors wanted to sign Carton to a 10-day NBA contract, and the 6-foot-3 guard had two hours to catch a plane. Carton and his father ran downstairs, rummaging to find the appropriate-sized suitcase. Throwing in pairs of mismatched socks and warm attire to bear the winter weather in Canada, Carton was off to the airport.
“I was at work, so when he finally called and told me I'm like, ‘OK, is this for real?’ Carton’s mother, Jen, recalled. “It was very rushed, so we talked for literally two minutes. I told him how happy I was for him, and then he was gone.”
Carton appeared in two games for the Raptors during those 10 days, scoring eight points and dishing out two assists in 11 minutes of action. The guard’s all-out effort in his limited time on the court impressed the coaching staff — so much so that they wanted him to stay in Toronto.
On March 2, when his 10-day contract expired, the Raptors offered Carton his first two-way deal. A two-way contract allows developing NBA players to be rostered on both a professional team and its G League affiliate, per USA Today.
“I always knew the talent he had. I remember people always telling us when he was young that he had the IQ to be in the NBA and things like that,” Jen said. “Part of me was surprised, but part of me always knew he would [reach the NBA].”
Carton, however, hasn't always been as confident he would reach the professional level.
Iowa’s Mr. Basketball in 2019 and ESPN’s No. 35 recruit as a senior, the pressure nearly became too heavy for the teenager.Walking away from the game During his first collegiate season at Ohio State, Carton took a three-month break from the court, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever return.
He had to find his inner child again, the one who loved the game and dreamed of playing professionally.
But to find that child, Carton first had to find his current self.
He was battling with an eating disorder and was down 25 pounds. He had to run to the trash can during games to throw up. He couldn’t take a bite of his favorite food without gagging, Carton’s parents told WHBF-TVin 2021.
“I remember sleeping at night in my bed in college just thinking to myself, “Man, I don’t even want to be here no more,’” Carton told WHBF-TV. Carton, who appeared in 20 games and started three for the Buckeyes, didn’t want to tell anybody about his mental health struggles.
But he didn’t want anyone to have a chance to create false narratives about him, either.
So, he walked away.
“I’m disappointed to say I’m not 100 percent right now,” Carton wrote on Jan. 30, 2020, in a social media post about why he was taking a break. “I am not doing my teammates justice if I don’t work on this now.”
Carton didn’t touch a basketball for three months.
He went back to his family home in Bettendorf and rediscovered his ‘why’ with his loved ones nearby.
When the next college season came around, Carton felt more like himself. He didn’t stay shelled up in his bedroom. He laughed more at the dinner table. He missed playing basketball. Carton said he doesn’t regret publicizing his mental health struggles and hopes it inspired other athletes to speak up and get help.
“I think being open is what a lot of people in this world need to be,” he said. “Just be open with themselves and other people, and we can all help each other more.”
Return to the court
Carton wanted a fresh start, so he transferred to Marquette for his sophomore season, and the NCAA granted him immediate eligibility.
He averaged 13 points, 4.1 rebounds, and 3.4 assists across 24 starts for the Golden Eagles before the season was canceled because of COVID-19.
Carton declared for the 2021 NBA Draft, but no team selected him.
He signed with the Charlotte Hornets in August of that year and was waived before the season started. The guard then signed with Charlotte’s G League affiliate, the Greensboro Swarm, on Oct. 24, 2021. He played in 22 games for the Swarm and then continued his career with the Iowa Wolves. After averaging 16.3 points in his first season with Iowa, Carton signed an Exhibit 10 contract with the Timberwolves.
An Exhibit 10 contract is a one-year deal worth the minimum league salary that guarantees a player a training camp invite and can lead to a two-way contract, according to Yahoo Sports. Carton was released from the Timberwolves before making his professional debut. He returned to Iowa for the 2023-24 season and improved in nearly every statistical category, averaging 20.8 points and 7.1 assists while shooting 43.4 percent from beyond the arc.
Carton said the G League taught him never to take anything for granted.
With more talent emerging each year, the guard said the minor league “shows a person how bad they want things in life.” “You just have less resources to work with while also trying to live out your dream like all the other millions of kids trying to do so,” Carton said of the competitiveness of the G League.
After three years of coming so close to his professional dreams, Carton now boasts five NBA game appearances on his resume.
“He just has that spark again, or that sparkle again, and I think that's what makes me most proud and most excited for him,” Jen said. “If he didn’t take that break [in college], we wouldn’t be having this conversation today. So just the fact that he was able to see that he needed that, and then where he is now is just, you know, it says a lot about his character and the type of kid that he is.”
DJ’s pro debut On Feb. 22, two days after Carton left for Canada, he was sitting on Toronto’s bench while his team dismantled the Brooklyn Nets. Carton didn’t think he would get into the game, even with under three minutes left to play and a 30-point difference on the scoreboard. Then, his jersey number was called. “
‘Carry yourself with confidence,’” Carton told himself as he walked toward halfcourt to check in.
As Carton ran the ball up the hardwood, his sense of time slowed. The ticking clock on the jumbotron overhead seemed to freeze. Arriving at the three-point line, the guard dribbled the ball between his legs while scanning for open teammates.
The four other players dressed in red and black stayed still, not making an effort for the ball.
It was Carton’s “time to attack.”
He assertively maneuvered his way to the left side of the lane and shot an off-balance floater, making contact with 6-foot-6 forward Jalen Wilson.
Swish, plus the foul.
Carton’s facial expression stayed neutral as if he hadn’t just scored the first points of his professional career.
He said he didn’t know whether to act excited or “play it cool.” Over 600 miles away, his family was “going nuts” and frantically texting each other. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, nephews — no one in Carton's circle was about to miss the moment he'd been working for since playing against his mom, a former Colorado volleyball player, in the driveway growing up.
Carton’s teammates on the bench had similar reactions to his made shot. Every Raptor player was on their feet, some with their hands in the air, some jumping up and down. It was all smiles as they watched Carton live out a childhood dream.
“He didn't notice his teammates doing that after he made the shot. But he said later when he watched it on his phone and stuff, it brought tears to his eyes because they don’t even really know him, and they were so excited and supportive,” Jen said. “He just has such a huge support system; he doesn't even realize how big it is.”
Since Carton didn’t have any family or friends in town to celebrate his first points as a pro, he returned to his hotel and “went to bed like any other night.”
Contrary to downtown Toronto’s vibrant night scene, Carton’s hotel room remained quiet.
He was alone, but he wasn’t lonely. Carton didn't need anyone else there to assure himself he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Jen said the Raptors are building a great culture, and her 23-year-old son is excited to help grow the organization.
Carton saw no action in the final 20 games of the season because of a left ankle injury, but he is set to head back to Toronto on May 5 for a mini-training camp.
What started as a surprise phone call became a surreal moment of triumph.
Now all that lingers is a desire for more.
“The feeling was crazy and addicting,” Carton said of making his NBA debut. “It's something that I crave. I don't want to go back to the G League. I want to play at the highest level."