Back in March, Noah Lyles made his doubts clear about Grand Slam Track’s potential, especially when it came to its marketing strength. “Money is not the thing that’s going to drive me every time… who are your outside sponsors, who are your non-track and field sponsors… I haven’t even heard a block’s sponsor.” Those remarks came while the league was on its way to host its Jamaican chapter in April 4-6, and Lyles was asked about his possibility of joining GST. But instead of confirming interest, he pointed to a larger concern: the league’s struggle to attract major sponsors and big-name athletes like himself. So was Noah hoping for GST to fail?

While Noah Lyles had his doubts about Michael Johnson’s Grand Slam Track—he still hoped to be proven wrong: “100 percent, all the way.” But just around 90 days later, GST cancelled its season-ending meet in Los Angeles, a finale meant to crown its champions after stops in Kingston, Miami, and Philly. The reason? Johnson cited financial strain, revealing the UCLA deal would’ve cost the league over $2 million—too risky without a new investor. These losses were part of a broader sunk cost: with only ~30% stadium occupancy in Kingston and shortened events in Philadelphia—plus the full $12.6 million prize pool promised across four meets—GST faced pressure from all sides. Front Office Sports reported GST had secured $30 million in startup funding, yet still needed to cancel LA to avoid amassing a projected $3 million in extra prize and travel expenses. But wasn’t this exactly what Lyles had warned: no sponsors, weak marketing, and a vision too big for its budget? 

And now, in a conversation with host James Emeritt on July 18, Noah Lyles revisited a topic he likely wishes he’d been wrong about: the downfall of Grand Slam Track (GST). Reflecting on the league’s premature collapse, Lyles shared what had been on his mind throughout. 

“I’d say my predictions were kind of dead on, unfortunately. I mean, they did say they had to pull out of their last competition in LA due to financial issues and unfortunately that’s never good to hear,” he said, “because that means that you weren’t able to make it the first full year, full season, accomplishing all the goals that you had planned.”

This wasn’t just a hiccup—it exposed how even well-funded, star-powered ventures can falter without marquee sponsors and consistent broadcast interest. GST had hoped to rival the Diamond League and tap into U.S. broadcast deals, but empty stands and missing television partners left it with a critical revenue gap. And for Lyles, the consequences stretch far beyond a cancelled meet. It was the kind of outcome Lyles had hoped wouldn’t arrive. But now, it was here, and he wasn’t shying away from talking about it.

“That’s very saddening because that doesn’t just affect this league Grand Slam, but it affects every other athlete that you know might have leagues in their head in the future. Or for any athlete who’s saying, ‘Hey, you know, I was a part of this, and even though I was a part of it, it wasn’t able to succeed to the best of ability’,” Lyles remarked.

He didn’t point fingers or assign blame, he made it clear: “Not throwing the blame on anybody that’s just how some people might perceive it going down in the future.” It’s worth noting that several GST athletes—like Jamaica’s Rusheen McDonald and U.S. sprinter Kayla White—had publicly praised the format for being athlete-first. But for them, the sudden halt mid-season also meant a sudden disappearance of appearance fees, travel reimbursements, and broadcast exposure they were counting on.

When leagues fold mid-stride, it can disrupt not just a calendar, but careers. It shakes confidence, chips away at trust, and plants doubts in the minds of athletes already walking a tightrope in a sport that rarely guarantees stability. So, is there any solution to get rid of such issues? 

Noah Lyles has something on his mind 

Noah Lyles may have been vocal about his doubts surrounding Grand Slam Track (GST), but don’t mistake him for a hater. In fact, Lyles wanted the league to succeed. Back in March, he made that clear: “I would love nothing (more) than for this to be successful,” he said. “Because if it does, the amount of benefits it would provide, this could be a way for athletes to not have to only rely on World Championships, because you could be potentially be making more money consistently throughout the year.” But optimism, for Lyles, came with conditions.

From interviews to podcast appearances—Lyles kept repeating one thing: if GST wanted to thrive, it needed to bring in the big guns. Big names. Big stars. Big sponsors. That’s the only way it could offer real value to athletes. And that’s also why he didn’t sign on. He called GST “the closest thing we’ve ever had to a professional league in track and field.” He even said, “If I’m not going to financially gain on one side…I have to, market-wise, get value from it.” Translation? The spotlight had to be big. Otherwise, it just wasn’t worth it—for Noah Lyles or for anyone chasing sustainability in the sport.