It’s been a few days since the WNBA playoffs tipped off. While most people are digesting the wins and losses, gameplay, individual performances (or lack thereof), and matchups, I’m sitting here reflecting on what happened during the regular season instead. And not for the reason you might think.
This morning I listened to iHeartPodcast’s Good Game with Sarah Spain and her in-depth conversation with Minnesota Lynx head coach Cheryl Reeve.
Reeve talked about a variety of things, but it was her commentary to a question about how she processed the rampant toxicity that was so prevalent this summer and how it impacted the players and the league that hit me. Hard.
Lynx head coach @CherylReeveShow talks WNBA playoffs & dealing with criticism over roster creation & management as head coach of Team USA. Plus her response to Becky Hammon’s comments about Napheesa Collier & why it’s so important to keep the W welcoming.https://t.co/jXiGQ1yrDG pic.twitter.com/heZ7W05VAA
— Sarah Spain (@SarahSpain) September 23, 2024
“Disheartening is probably the word that comes to mind,” Reeve said candidly. “One of the most beautiful parts about the WNBA, why I love coaching in the WNBA is we all get to be ourselves. It’s such a welcoming, safe space. It doesn’t matter how you identify — in anything — you’re accepted. Not just accepted, [but] supported and empowered.”
I don’t play in the WNBA. I don’t coach either, obviously. But I related to this sentiment in a big way from a media standpoint. As a gay sports writer who is more masculine-leaning, I’ve often felt out of place when covering men’s sports and/or interviewing male athletes. I always had the sense that I didn’t fit some particular mold of how a female sports reporter should be and look. More often than not, I felt awkward, self-conscious, and out of place. But when I ventured into the women’s sports space, particularly the WNBA, I never felt more at home.
I know I’m not the only person covering the WNBA who feels this way. There are many of us. From those longtime writers who were there at the very beginning in 1997 to those who have been championing and talking up the W for the past five or ten years. We all feel a special connection to this league and for good reason. It’s been a community and, as Reeve so aptly put it, a safe and welcoming space. Why wouldn’t we want to help keep it that way?
What’s more, the discourse in WNBA circles has long been on the playful side. Opinions and takes got challenged but in a respectful kind of way. Trolls would creep in now and again, of course. But they were more of the “go back to the kitchen” and “make me a sandwich” variety. You know, easy stuff. The vitriol and racist, misogynistic, and homophobic rhetoric wasn’t anywhere near the level it is today.
The eyes, the rise in viewership, the increased attention, the additional coverage across mainstream media, the heightened conversion — it’s all been amazing. It’s what the WNBA community, WNBA media, players, and the league have wanted and hoped for. The troubling part is that we’re now expected to be okay with and accept the influx of toxicity that has come along with it. I know growing pains are a thing. But this isn’t a pain that is a natural part of the growing process.
Yea I really hate a
“it comes with the territory…”
“we’ve always done it this way…”
“well on the men’s side it’s even worse…” “this is what it means to grow…” ass human.We accept so much bullshit as standard operating procedures when we shouldn’t and don’t have to.
— “Sha-Vaughn”B.| 🌖🪬 (@SiobhanBeslow) September 10, 2024
The WNBA is one of the most, if not the most progressive major sports league in history. It raised the bar when it came to diversity and acceptance. It changed and evolved over time because the players used their platforms and autonomy to demand better. Now, it’s supposed to lower the bar just because it’s more popular? New fans, media, personalities, and voices to the space should instead rise to the occasion and meet the standards of where the bar is at. Taking steps backward just because that’s been the status quo in men’s leagues isn’t how the WNBA operates. It shouldn’t be how any women’s sports league operates.
The word “gatekeeping” has been thrown around like confetti this season at WNBA media members, former players, and longtime WNBA fans. I’m not sure how it applies. No one is keeping anyone out of anything. Everyone is welcome to watch, consume, comment, and have an opinion about the WNBA. Is respectful dialogue, nuance, historical context, and constructive criticism that is void of any racism, homophobia, and sexism really too much to ask? Why is it wrong to expect better?
There is so much to marvel at when it comes to this season. From A’ja Wilson’s unanimous MVP performance to Caitlin Clark living up to and surpassing expectations and Angel Reese dominating the boards in a way we’ve never seen before. There’s a host of so many other noteworthy things, like Skylar Diggins-Smith’s comeback in Seattle and Dearica Hamby thriving in Los Angeles. At the same time, it’s all sullied a bit. While this season will be remembered for what was done on the court, unfortunately, it will also be remembered for what went on off of it.
“I think that what lies ahead, who speaks out and who utilizes their voices in this time is going to be really, really impactful in how this whole entire league moves forward,” Reeve said in closing.
She’s right. There’s a lot of us in the WNBA community who value and appreciate what the league has been, what it can continue to be, and where it goes from here.
That in itself is heartening.
