Juan and Jose Diaz kicked soccer balls around the cul-de-sacs of Richmond’s Southwood apartments for years until Dustin King and Marcelo Lopez gave them a chance for bigger and better games.

On a recent Thursday, the Diaz brothers dribbled the ball across the field at E.S.H. Greene Elementary School on Richmond’s South Side for the free summer soccer camp run by King’s nonprofit Richmond Conexiones.

The Thomas Jefferson High School students both have speed, and talent. But over the summer, they spent their time at the free soccer clinic rather than with an organized soccer team.

“We just played with the neighborhood kids across the street, and then here,” said Jose Diaz, 15.

Like many of the Latino players on the grassy fields behind the school that day, the free camp was their main way to play a beloved sport that has been out of reach for swaths of a rapidly growing Latino community in the region.

In the United States, King said, playing soccer is something that is generally enjoyed by middle-class or upper-middle-class people who can afford travel games. The Sports & Fitness Industry Association found that American households with more than $100,000 in annual income currently account for 35 percent of soccer players, compared with 11 percent from households earning $25,000 or less, according to The New York Times.

“It’s unfortunate because that isn’t the case in a lot of other countries,” King said. “I knew a bunch of these kids already, and I knew they loved soccer. But [club soccer] is expensive, and they don’t have much to do over the summer, and I knew I had a lot of buddies who will volunteer.”

That Thursday was the last day of camp, and the day of a big game between the older kids. The Diaz brothers criss-crossed the field with King and about 15 teenagers. Another group of 15 younger children played a nearby game with volunteer coaches. After one young boy scored in the mini-goal, he went for a round-off in the grass.

Carolina Escobar, a parent of one of the soccer players, laughed from the sidelines. Without this free clinic, her son would be watching television at home, she said. She said she doesn’t have the money for soccer clubs.

Organized team camps can often be expensive, some costing hundreds of dollars (although some organizations offer scholarships).

That’s too much for Escobar. She isn’t alone.

About 7 in 10 students who attend the school standing behind her are considered economically disadvantaged by the state, meaning they qualify for free or reduced-price meals, Medicaid or benefits under the Temporary Assistance for Needy Families program.

King switched the location of the camp several years ago to Greene — where Latino students now make up 85 percent of the student population — so families struggling financially could walk to the school, eliminating concerns about transportation.

The scene is in stark contrast to the megawatt display across sports complexes and school fields around the region on summer nights and weekends, as parking lots fill with families lured by the region’s burgeoning sports tourism industry.

Localities continue to invest millions in the market, purchasing green spaces or using parts of parks for sports complexes in the hopes of bringing tournaments here.

“The pay-to-play here is huge. If you want the top-notch training here ... that’ll cost quite a bit of money,” Marcelo Lopez said. “My parents, who immigrated from Bolivia, worked so hard for me to play this sport that is usually afforded to comfortable, affluent families. My dad drove me three hours on weekends to get to tournaments. Both my parents worked multiple jobs.”

Lopez initially floated the idea of the camp to King six years ago as a way to broaden access to a sport he has played since he was 3 years old to the local Latino community. It wasn’t until he was older that he noticed the significance of the soccer sleepovers from his younger days, where the multistory homes of his teammates were a far cry from the three-bedroom apartment Lopez shared with his two brothers, parents, grandparents and extended family.

“I have noticed in the past few years how a lot of talented youth in this country slip through the cracks,” Lopez said.

Low-income students who do not have access to elite leagues are less likely to be recruited by college scouts. Latinos are underrepresented in college sports.

Although 1 in 4 people under 18 in the U.S. are Latino, they account for only 12.3 percent of male and 7.4 percent of female National Collegiate Athletic Association soccer players, NCAA data reported by the Washington-based Aspen Institute show.

In response, soccer academies and organizations have cropped up in other parts of the country targeting Latino and low-income communities.

Most of King’s volunteer coaches who played that Thursday previously participated in soccer leagues, even on travel soccer teams where families routinely travel across the country for games scouted by college coaches. On the soccer field, they would pause with a player to pass on dribbling or passing tips in the hopes of imparting technical expertise to the kids.

“Before we started, we were already into soccer,” said Juan Diaz, 18. “[King] specifically created it so that the Hispanic kids could come and play together. So it was like a free thing that he did as a way to reach out to the Hispanic community so the majority of them can enjoy the sport.”

Now in its sixth year, the free soccer clinic has become the staple of King’s nonprofit Richmond Conexiones. Roughly $1,500 in donations allows about 10 volunteer coaches to train as many as 50 children of all ages each summer.

The nonprofit also offers homework assistance to English-language learners, a summer lunch program, a winter coat drive and a school supply drive, among other things.

King has already had to expand the camp so that younger kids could participate. He hopes to have even more players next year.

Once the big game finished that Thursday, the 30 players joined their parents at the front of the school for a treat.

A mother cooked chicken on a grill as teenage boys grabbed paper plates and lined up. Other moms told them to sit back down and wait. They settled for soda and water as more mothers filtered in, sitting next to their sons and daughters and asking about the game.