The WNBA of my childhood— when stars like Lisa Leslie, Dawn Staley and Sheryl Swoopes made splashes on and off the court—felt like a cultural touchstone. I can remember seeing these women on episodes of Sister, Sister and Martin during those years. At the time, I didn’t understand that it meant they had what was known as “crossover appeal,” much less that it hinted at the league’s potential to reshape the sports landscape.
And then, like the snap of a finger, something shifted. The conversations quieted; the TV appearances were few and far between. And for years, that promise seemed unfulfilled as the WNBA struggled to maintain its early momentum. The league faced challenges, ranging from financial instability to lack of media coverage, that often relegated it to the sidelines of the sports world. But man, did they have a moment. And I loved growing up during the 1990s and getting to experience it.
Fast-forward to 2025, and things have once again changed—this time in the best way possible. What began in 1996 as an eight-team experiment has evolved into a 12-franchise powerhouse, defying skeptics and financial headwinds along the way. The numbers? They’re staggering. Viewership has skyrocketed by 226 percent in the past year alone. The 2024 season averaged 657,000 viewers per game, up from 505,000 in 2023. The Kimberly of the 90s who so loved women’s basketball is finally getting her wish: The rest of the world is catching on and truly falling in love with the game.
This surge isn’t just a flash in the pan, either; it’s the result of years of grassroots effort and strategic partnerships, plus a paradigm shift that’s been long in the making. The league’s social media following has exploded too, growing significantly across platforms. In an era in which digital engagement is currency, this growth speaks volumes about the WNBA’s increasing relevance in the cultural conversation. And let’s not forget the whopping $75 million in capital raised by the league in 2022—a clear signal that women’s basketball in the States has come of age.
This influx of capital has allowed the league to invest in better facilities, increased marketing and improved player benefits. But if you’ve followed the WNBA for years, and likely even if you haven’t, you might wonder: Is this growth sustainable? We’ve seen spurts of popularity before, only to watch them fizzle out. The real test will be whether the league can maintain its current momentum over the next five to ten years—especially if the novelty of social media stardom wears off, or if another women’s sport captures the public’s imagination.
But let’s be real: This isn’t just about stats. It’s also about the stars. Angel Reese. Caitlin Clark. Even if you’re not into women’s basketball, you’ve heard these names. They light up headlines and social media feeds on an almost daily basis. These young phenoms are doing more than just playing ball; they’re reshaping the culture, in the same way their predecessors did in the past. We get to see newer players branching out: Reese has appeared in music videos; Isabelle Harrison shows up at New York Fashion Week. And they’re not alone. Veterans like A’ja Wilson and Breanna Stewart continue to elevate the league’s profile, bridging the gap between its past and its bright future.
Keia Clarke—who experienced an incredible season as CEO of the 2024 WNBA Champions, the New York Liberty—puts it plainly: “We’re leaders in all things. When you talk about the intersection of sports and culture, when you even think about the fan base that exists, Black women are the purveyors of culture.” She’s not wrong. From fashion to music to social justice, Black WNBA players are at the forefront.
While Clarke’s optimism is infectious, it’s worth considering whether the WNBA’s current business model is the best path forward. The league has long tried to emulate the NBA; but is it time to consider a drastically different approach?
Nneka Ogwumike—Seattle Storm star, president of the player’s association (the WNBPA) and Adidas athlete—has been in the trenches fighting for her fellow players for years. “We’re very happy to see us moving the ball forward,” she says, reflecting on recent progress in player compensation. The results speak for themselves: The minimum salary has shot up by 94 percent since 2019, now averaging around $70,000, while the super-maximum base salary has reached $241,984.
It’s certainly progress, but is it enough? Layshia Clarendon, another Adidas athlete and a WNBPA Social Justice Council member, pushes for more. Clarendon is the first openly nonbinary player in WNBA history, and their journey has opened doors. But they’re not satisfied. “A growth area would be to continue to market our darker-skin women,” Clarendon says. “Are we marketing our women with different body sizes? Are we marketing our nonbinary players, our masculine players?” These are all valid questions.
Clarendon’s push for more inclusive marketing may be crucial, but it also highlights the tightrope the WNBA must walk. How does the league authentically represent its diverse player base while also appealing to a broad audience that might not be as progressive? It’s a challenge that goes beyond marketing; it cuts to the heart of the WNBA’s identity and its place in the broader sports landscape.
It helps that fans are loyal. A Nielsen study found that WNBA fans are 1.8 times more likely to engage with a team online and 18 percent more likely to chat about it with friends and family; and 1 in 3 fans actually makes a purchase that supports their team.
The WNBA’s commitment to social justice has undoubtedly strengthened its bond with core fans. Remember the 2020 “Wubble” season? Keia Clarke does. “That’s the season that the WNBA players, all 144, came together to dedicate the season and try to bring justice to Breonna Taylor,” she says.”That was not performative. That’s what this league has always been about.”
But if social justice and community impact are in the WNBA’s DNA, it’s also worth asking whether this approach might limit the league’s growth potential. Are there fans or sponsors who might be alienated by the players’ outspoken stance on social issues? And if so, is that a price the WNBA is willing to pay to stay true to its values?
Let’s hope it is. But that stance comes with great responsibility. Ogwumike knows this all too well. “The benefits of being a pro are amazing,” she reflects. “But to stay a pro—no one talks about it—that’s not a very glamorous conversation. It requires a level of discipline that few people have.”
As the league grows and salaries increase, this discipline will become even more critical. The pressure on players to perform both on and off the court—as athletes, entertainers and activists—is intense. It remains to be seen how sustainable this model is and whether it might lead to burnout among players.
Looking ahead, the possibilities seem endless. Million-dollar player contracts within the next decade? Ogwumike thinks so. A “reliable and multidimensional business model”? That’s Clarke’s focus. These goals, once thought to be impossible for women’s professional basketball, now seem within reach. The new TV- rights media deal far exceeds that of previous deals—coming in at $200 million per year, according to the agreement. This could be the catalyst that propels the league into a new era of financial stability and growth.
For the next generation of leaders in women’s basketball, especially young Black women, Clarke offers this advice: “Prepare yourself. To be ready for that moment, to be ready for that call—and to put yourself out there, to take risks, to put your name in that hat and not wait until you have every credential or every person cosigning for you.” Her words echo the ethos that has driven the WNBA’s rise: a combination of preparation, opportunity and audacity.
As the league looks to the future, one thing is clear: The WNBA is not just changing the game, it’s redefining it. These women are more than athletes. They’re pioneers. Activists. Leaders. They are the change we wish to see in this world, and they’re challenging norms in sports, business and society at large. The league’s growth is a testament to the power of perseverance, the importance of representation and the impact of unapologetic authenticity.
The future of women’s basketball? It’s here. It’s now. And it’s about damn time. From those early days of Lisa Leslie and Sheryl Swoopes to the current era of Angel Reese and Caitlin Clark, the WNBA has come full circle—and then some. It’s no longer about proving that women can play professional basketball at the highest levels. It’s about fundamentally shifting how the sports world operates and crafting a new blueprint.
The WNBA will continue to grow and evolve, and it will continue to face tough questions and difficult decisions. The league’s ability to navigate these challenges, while staying true to its core values, will ultimately determine whether the current renaissance is the beginning of a new era or just another fleeting moment in the spotlight. One thing’s for sure: The journey off the court will be as compelling as any game on the court. And just like before, I’ll be tuned in for every moment of it.
This article first appeared in the January/February 2025 issue of ESSENCE Magazine.