The other day, the WNBA had its pinnacles, Napheesa Collier and Caitlin Clark, pick the squads as captains leading into the All-Star Game next weekend. It was all laughs and giggles, fun and good-natured, the way it was supposed to be.
Then reality not only kicked in — it kicked off its shoes, lingered, got comfortable and made it known that “the real” ain’t going nowhere until the league — “the gatekeepers,” as ESPN 1000 morning host Jonathan Hood likes to call them — decide to deal with the issues confronting the league as opposed to waiting for the issues to magically disappear.
As the WNBA enters its All-Star break, it finds itself at a hazardous crossroads and in the now-unavoidable crosshairs. Not the crossroads that Bone Thugs-N-Harmony sang about, but the crosshairs like the league logo went on a date with the Public Enemy logo.
The league-wide referee complaints have become the most recent hot topic and seem to only be getting louder. Aces coach Becky Hammon: “… there’s too much bumping, too much grabbing, too much fouling that’s not getting called …”). Sparks guard Kelsey Plum: “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of it.” Collier: “I don’t think it’s consistent. I think every player would say that. I think it’s getting worse. I’m just going to be really honest about it. It’s a conversation that I’ve tried to have with [commissioner] Cathy Engelbert.” Sky star Angel Reese’s viral vitriol: “I’m tired of this s—-!” Engelbert’s meh-assed response: “There’s always room for growth and improvement in officiating.”
On top of that, there’s this belief that the white privilege surrounding Clark is real, on top of the belief that the racism surrounding Reese is real, on top of the belief that Collier — the MVP frontrunner — is too centrist in all of it.
Front Office Sports is openly asking if the WNBA has “outgrown” the “camp games” it holds annually for young kids in summer camps. Fever guard Sophie Cunningham has unapologetically shamed the cities where the new expansion teams are going. There are soft-spoken but too-often-heard conversations that the league as a whole feels and acts like its purpose is bigger than basketball.
There are rumblings that the ESPN pre/halftime/post-game show is too Black. Same with the WNBA’s offseason counterpart, Unrivaled. That Aces center A’ja Wilson’s commercial for the launch of her Nike signature shoe was too inclusive and the other “87%” didn’t feel a part of it.
Then there’s the overshadowing reality that the league still needs the NBA (and white male ownership) in order to exist. The reality that all the complaints of revenue equity are laughable because in 28 years, the WNBA has yet to turn a real profit.
And we can’t redact this: the couple of weeks and counting where it seems the whole league is in a historic three-point shooting slump: Clark’s now infamous 1-for-23 run, Plum’s 4-for-22 over four games, Sabrina Ionescu’s 3-for-19 over two games, Paige Bueckers’ 2-for-17 over five games, teammate Arike Ogunbowale’s 4-for-17 for three games, Breanna Stewart’s 6-for-20 over seven games, “Point Goddess” Chelsea Gray’s 7-for-28 over six games, Marina Mabrey’s 2-for-17 over three games — even as Reese elevated her 2K26 game to average 19 points and 16 rebounds over her last five games. It was like the whole league turned into Draymond Green from three-point range.
Of all the things, that last one is the one the WNBA can afford the least. The way-too-honest conversation is that the WNBA is in such a perilous and vulnerable position that there’s zero room for any universal decline in play, especially in three-point shooting, or contagious below-standard performances.
Yet, WNBA basketball remains almost inarguably the best professional sport going. Which makes this All-Star break more than a break: It’s an inflection point.
Well, it can be. It all depends on if Engelbert finally decides to acknowledge and face “the real” (and decide what can be ignored), act with some sense of executive courage and choose to use the weekend as the moment the W decided to not just take a stand but stand.
Some narratives are unavoidable. Some are uncontrollable. Some are just the result of the recent emergence of players, future players and play on-the-court. If anything, the WNBA has proven in the last two seasons — since Clark entered — that it was not ready. It was totally unprepared to deal with all the off-the-court drama that accompanied not just Clark but the league’s overall success while it’s still being perceived as inferior to its male counterpart.
“Stay ready so you don’t have to get ready.” It’s what the W didn’t do the last time but has the opportunity to do now — not only to discover what it is and what it’s actually made of, but to more urgently confront who and what it actually wants to become.
