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~~The W.N.B.A. Is Putting on Some of the Best Pro Basketball in America~~	The W.N.B.A. Is Putting On Some of the Best Pro Basketball in America
2019-09-02 16:12:13 UTC	2019-09-02 18:06:21 UTC (about 2 hours later)
On opening night in the W.N.B.A., three hours and 25 minutes until the Atlanta Dream’s home tipoff against the Dallas Wings, Brennan Galloway, who runs game operations, was standing in the breezeway beneath the seats of State Farm Arena, a cement colosseum where the Hawks, the city’s N.B.A. team, play from October until at least April. The Dream rents this downtown venue for its regular season, which runs from May into September, but its lease doesn’t give access to all the facility’s perks. The Hawks’ locker room, for instance, was off limits; the Dream players suit up where visiting opponents do (their opponents get a dressing room down the hall).	On opening night in the W.N.B.A., three hours and 25 minutes until the Atlanta Dream’s home tipoff against the Dallas Wings, Brennan Galloway, who runs game operations, was standing in the breezeway beneath the seats of State Farm Arena, a cement colosseum where the Hawks, the city’s N.B.A. team, play from October until at least April. The Dream rents this downtown venue for its regular season, which runs from May into September, but its lease doesn’t give access to all the facility’s perks. The Hawks’ locker room, for instance, was off limits; the Dream players suit up where visiting opponents do (their opponents get a dressing room down the hall).
“I liken calling and directing a game to flying a plane,” Galloway, whose job the Hawks fill with a multitude of staff members, told me. He held a stack of scripts he had written for the show. These included player introductions and spectator contests that would take place during timeouts. He was planning to hand out the scripts to the arena’s in-house crew, which would be wrangling microphones, a camera operator, an M.C., dancers and fans, when he was waylaid by Dan Goldberger, the team’s marketing director, trailing a gaggle of interns; they needed his help carrying boxes from the Dream’s designated “storage room” (a shipping container beside a dumpster out back) to the “game operations room” (more like a spacious closet). Along the way, he bumped into the team’s mascot, a gray-furred bird named Star, who had just examined his costume, which was 5 years old and still moist from a recent preseason outing (“If we could by chance find some Lysol, that would be fantastic”), and the captain of the dance team (“I have a minor urgent problem — there’s a leak in the dance room”).	“I liken calling and directing a game to flying a plane,” Galloway, whose job the Hawks fill with a multitude of staff members, told me. He held a stack of scripts he had written for the show. These included player introductions and spectator contests that would take place during timeouts. He was planning to hand out the scripts to the arena’s in-house crew, which would be wrangling microphones, a camera operator, an M.C., dancers and fans, when he was waylaid by Dan Goldberger, the team’s marketing director, trailing a gaggle of interns; they needed his help carrying boxes from the Dream’s designated “storage room” (a shipping container beside a dumpster out back) to the “game operations room” (more like a spacious closet). Along the way, he bumped into the team’s mascot, a gray-furred bird named Star, who had just examined his costume, which was 5 years old and still moist from a recent preseason outing (“If we could by chance find some Lysol, that would be fantastic”), and the captain of the dance team (“I have a minor urgent problem — there’s a leak in the dance room”).
By the time Galloway made it upstairs to the arena’s control booth, it was an hour and 30 minutes until tipoff. A man crawled out from under a control board and said, “I really hope we don’t have a clock issue at 6 o’clock.” It was 6 o’clock. “We have a clock issue,” another man said, referring possibly to the one on court counting down to game time. Through a bank of windows, the team — separated by the coaches into “bigs” and “littles” — could be seen going through drills several stories below. Pass, receive, jump, flick, swish.	By the time Galloway made it upstairs to the arena’s control booth, it was an hour and 30 minutes until tipoff. A man crawled out from under a control board and said, “I really hope we don’t have a clock issue at 6 o’clock.” It was 6 o’clock. “We have a clock issue,” another man said, referring possibly to the one on court counting down to game time. Through a bank of windows, the team — separated by the coaches into “bigs” and “littles” — could be seen going through drills several stories below. Pass, receive, jump, flick, swish.
“Doors open at 6:30,” Galloway told the production team. “Attendance tonight will be pretty light, so we might work to get some good shots. That might be a challenge.” A good camera shot is one that makes the stands look full. ESPN/ABC carries only 16 of the league’s 204 regular-season games (some of which also air nationally on CBS Sports Network, Twitter and NBATV), so each team must produce its own TV broadcast, complete with commentators, and negotiate with local stations to air it. The game tonight would be streaming live on the website of the Atlanta ABC affiliate. Both commentators were new, last season’s duo having declined to take a significant pay cut.	“Doors open at 6:30,” Galloway told the production team. “Attendance tonight will be pretty light, so we might work to get some good shots. That might be a challenge.” A good camera shot is one that makes the stands look full. ESPN/ABC carries only 16 of the league’s 204 regular-season games (some of which also air nationally on CBS Sports Network, Twitter and NBATV), so each team must produce its own TV broadcast, complete with commentators, and negotiate with local stations to air it. The game tonight would be streaming live on the website of the Atlanta ABC affiliate. Both commentators were new, last season’s duo having declined to take a significant pay cut.
Opening day for any sports franchise is portentous. On this Friday, Memorial Day weekend, the first day of the W.N.B.A.’s 23rd season, it was especially so for the Dream, which is trying to prove it can survive as the only major women’s professional team in a city glutted with men’s franchises (the Hawks, the baseball Braves, the football Falcons, the soccer United). Success that evening required finding a way to put on an N.B.A.-style show in an N.B.A.-size arena without N.B.A.-scale resources. A less-than-perfect outing risked alienating first-time ticket buyers and giving local media outlets an excuse to ignore them. Not that they need one. That morning, The Atlanta Journal Constitution’s sports email newsletter omitted any mention of the game, though it reported on the Braves’ new left fielder and the Falcons’ interest in retaining an ex-Tampa Bay Buccaneer. Despite reaching the playoffs in eight of its 11 years in town, the Dream has always struggled for attention.	Opening day for any sports franchise is portentous. On this Friday, Memorial Day weekend, the first day of the W.N.B.A.’s 23rd season, it was especially so for the Dream, which is trying to prove it can survive as the only major women’s professional team in a city glutted with men’s franchises (the Hawks, the baseball Braves, the football Falcons, the soccer United). Success that evening required finding a way to put on an N.B.A.-style show in an N.B.A.-size arena without N.B.A.-scale resources. A less-than-perfect outing risked alienating first-time ticket buyers and giving local media outlets an excuse to ignore them. Not that they need one. That morning, The Atlanta Journal Constitution’s sports email newsletter omitted any mention of the game, though it reported on the Braves’ new left fielder and the Falcons’ interest in retaining an ex-Tampa Bay Buccaneer. Despite reaching the playoffs in eight of its 11 years in town, the Dream has always struggled for attention.
That struggle was exacerbated in 2017, when State Farm Arena closed for renovations for two summers and the team had to move to a smaller, harder-to-reach arena on the Georgia State campus. “Fans don’t like change,” Mary Brock, one of two local businesswomen who own the team, told me.	That struggle was exacerbated in 2017, when State Farm Arena closed for renovations for two summers and the team had to move to a smaller, harder-to-reach arena on the Georgia State campus. “Fans don’t like change,” Mary Brock, one of two local businesswomen who own the team, told me.
They also don’t like losing. That season was the team’s worst in nearly a decade. After it ended, Brock and her co-owner, Kelly Loeffler, fired their coach of four seasons, Michael Cooper, a former five-time N.B.A. champion with the Lakers. To replace him, they hired Nicki Collen, who was then a 42-year-old assistant coach for another W.N.B.A. team, the Connecticut Sun, and a self-proclaimed analytics nerd with a mechanical-engineering degree from Marquette, where she played guard. Collen requested a video coordinator and that more resources be devoted to film and statistics. She also recruited a couple of free agents, the guard Renee Montgomery, a two-time league champion with the Minnesota Lynx, and Jessica Breland, who had been named to the all-W.N.B.A. defensive team playing for the Chicago Sky, to join the Dream’s star forward, Angel McCoughtry. In 2018, the Dream reached the semifinals and, despite losing McCoughtry to torn knee ligaments, took the eventual runner-up Washington Mystics to a deciding fifth game. Collen was named coach of the year. Tiffany Hayes, a guard, was voted First Team All-W.N.B.A.	They also don’t like losing. That season was the team’s worst in nearly a decade. After it ended, Brock and her co-owner, Kelly Loeffler, fired their coach of four seasons, Michael Cooper, a former five-time N.B.A. champion with the Lakers. To replace him, they hired Nicki Collen, who was then a 42-year-old assistant coach for another W.N.B.A. team, the Connecticut Sun, and a self-proclaimed analytics nerd with a mechanical-engineering degree from Marquette, where she played guard. Collen requested a video coordinator and that more resources be devoted to film and statistics. She also recruited a couple of free agents, the guard Renee Montgomery, a two-time league champion with the Minnesota Lynx, and Jessica Breland, who had been named to the all-W.N.B.A. defensive team playing for the Chicago Sky, to join the Dream’s star forward, Angel McCoughtry. In 2018, the Dream reached the semifinals and, despite losing McCoughtry to torn knee ligaments, took the eventual runner-up Washington Mystics to a deciding fifth game. Collen was named coach of the year. Tiffany Hayes, a guard, was voted First Team All-W.N.B.A.
The Dream were optimistic that another winning season would help them gain traction in a difficult market. The team lacks sponsors for the small advertising patch on the uniforms and the marquee space across the chest, which would mean a six-figure endorsement. (In April, AT&T became the league’s jersey sponsor.) “On a local level, the challenge is people don’t spend money on women’s sports,” Goldberger told me. “Businesses don’t invest in the sport. When it comes down to it, are they buying corporate tickets like they are to the Falcons?” In Atlanta, the Dream must compete for dollars with lots of other events, sporting and otherwise; it is also a young organization. The New York Liberty, one of the W.N.B.A.’s original franchises, secured its first patch sponsor last year, after 22 seasons.	The Dream were optimistic that another winning season would help them gain traction in a difficult market. The team lacks sponsors for the small advertising patch on the uniforms and the marquee space across the chest, which would mean a six-figure endorsement. (In April, AT&T became the league’s jersey sponsor.) “On a local level, the challenge is people don’t spend money on women’s sports,” Goldberger told me. “Businesses don’t invest in the sport. When it comes down to it, are they buying corporate tickets like they are to the Falcons?” In Atlanta, the Dream must compete for dollars with lots of other events, sporting and otherwise; it is also a young organization. The New York Liberty, one of the W.N.B.A.’s original franchises, secured its first patch sponsor last year, after 22 seasons.
In many ways, the Dream’s local challenges mirrored those of the league, which has struggled to carve out an identity separate from the N.B.A., its founder and majority owner. Comparisons between the two are inevitable and yet often misleading: The N.B.A. is more successful but also 50 years older, which has allowed it to mold the game — and the audience — in its image. Judging women’s basketball by the standards of men’s is like assessing an orchestra with a decibel meter. Yet expanding Americans’ notions of what professional sports should look like and who should play them requires confronting current disparities between men’s and women’s experiences. Around the W.N.B.A., in the lead-up to the season, teams seemed hopeful that the #MeToo movement might bring about such a reckoning. In November, the W.N.B.A. players’ union opted out of its collective-bargaining agreement with the league, which was set to run through 2021, saying it wanted financial transparency and a better working environment. In March, as the United States women’s soccer team prepared for the World Cup, which it won in July, its players sued their sport’s national federation. They claimed gender discrimination, saying that they receive less compensation and have to make do with inferior training, travel and playing conditions compared with the men’s team; a subsequent audit found that from 2016 to 2018, the women’s games generated more revenue. The case is pending.	In many ways, the Dream’s local challenges mirrored those of the league, which has struggled to carve out an identity separate from the N.B.A., its founder and majority owner. Comparisons between the two are inevitable and yet often misleading: The N.B.A. is more successful but also 50 years older, which has allowed it to mold the game — and the audience — in its image. Judging women’s basketball by the standards of men’s is like assessing an orchestra with a decibel meter. Yet expanding Americans’ notions of what professional sports should look like and who should play them requires confronting current disparities between men’s and women’s experiences. Around the W.N.B.A., in the lead-up to the season, teams seemed hopeful that the #MeToo movement might bring about such a reckoning. In November, the W.N.B.A. players’ union opted out of its collective-bargaining agreement with the league, which was set to run through 2021, saying it wanted financial transparency and a better working environment. In March, as the United States women’s soccer team prepared for the World Cup, which it won in July, its players sued their sport’s national federation. They claimed gender discrimination, saying that they receive less compensation and have to make do with inferior training, travel and playing conditions compared with the men’s team; a subsequent audit found that from 2016 to 2018, the women’s games generated more revenue. The case is pending.
[The Best Women’s Soccer Team in the World Fights for Equal Pay.]	[The Best Women’s Soccer Team in the World Fights for Equal Pay.]
Brock and Loeffler, one of only two all-female ownership groups in the league (the other is in Seattle), bought the Dream, Brock says, in part to provide Atlanta with strong female role models. “The value this is for young girls as they become young women is important to us,” she says. Statistically, girls who play sports tend to have greater career success later in life compared with not playing, she told me: “Little boys are always expected to play sports. Little girls — it’s not expected, even with Title IX. This is what we want for our daughters. We want dads and daughters.” But they also believe that financial success is a crucial element of the Dream’s aspirational picture. “Our goal is to run this like a business and make money — not so much make money but not lose money,” Brock says. “We definitely think we know what it could take to make it work.” In addition to Collen, they hired the former general manager of the Sun, Chris Sienko, as general manager and president, and tasked him with overhauling their brand, including redesigning the team’s logo and pursuing new partnerships with Atlanta businesses that might be interested in supporting women’s initiatives in the area.	Brock and Loeffler, one of only two all-female ownership groups in the league (the other is in Seattle), bought the Dream, Brock says, in part to provide Atlanta with strong female role models. “The value this is for young girls as they become young women is important to us,” she says. Statistically, girls who play sports tend to have greater career success later in life compared with not playing, she told me: “Little boys are always expected to play sports. Little girls — it’s not expected, even with Title IX. This is what we want for our daughters. We want dads and daughters.” But they also believe that financial success is a crucial element of the Dream’s aspirational picture. “Our goal is to run this like a business and make money — not so much make money but not lose money,” Brock says. “We definitely think we know what it could take to make it work.” In addition to Collen, they hired the former general manager of the Sun, Chris Sienko, as general manager and president, and tasked him with overhauling their brand, including redesigning the team’s logo and pursuing new partnerships with Atlanta businesses that might be interested in supporting women’s initiatives in the area.
Twenty minutes out from the opening-night tipoff, a D.J. played “Uptown Funk,” while at both ends of the court, little girls who would dance in the halftime show lined up facing one another, leaving space in between for the players to run through. Galloway took his seat at the scoring table between Kelsey Bibik, the team’s just-hired P.R. manager who would live-tweet the game, and the arena announcer.	Twenty minutes out from the opening-night tipoff, a D.J. played “Uptown Funk,” while at both ends of the court, little girls who would dance in the halftime show lined up facing one another, leaving space in between for the players to run through. Galloway took his seat at the scoring table between Kelsey Bibik, the team’s just-hired P.R. manager who would live-tweet the game, and the arena announcer.
The M.C. gave Renee Montgomery the mic: “Thank you guys for coming out. We need y’all’s help. Let’s make this a hard place to play in!” The crowd, boisterous despite the swaths of empty seats, roared agreeably.	The M.C. gave Renee Montgomery the mic: “Thank you guys for coming out. We need y’all’s help. Let’s make this a hard place to play in!” The crowd, boisterous despite the swaths of empty seats, roared agreeably.
“Standby lights for anthem,” Galloway said. The players ran through the rows of children. “House lights, 3, 2, 1.” A horn sounded, the ref tossed up the ball, and the game — and the season — began.	“Standby lights for anthem,” Galloway said. The players ran through the rows of children. “House lights, 3, 2, 1.” A horn sounded, the ref tossed up the ball, and the game — and the season — began.
Though women have been playing basketball competitively since shortly after the game’s invention in 1891, perhaps the most direct impetus for the W.N.B.A. was a single college season — that of the 1994-95 University of Connecticut women’s basketball team, led by its star, Rebecca Lobo, now an ESPN commentator, and its still-dominant coach, Geno Auriemma — whose undefeated run, which happened to take place during an N.H.L. lockout, captivated the country. So, too, did the 1996 Olympic team, stacked with household names at the time like Lobo, Sheryl Swoopes, Lisa Leslie and Dawn Staley, which won gold in Atlanta. In fact, the teams’ obvious appeal actually spawned two leagues: The American Basketball League, founded by four entrepreneurs, began with eight teams in the fall of 1996, traditional basketball season. In the summer of 1997, the N.B.A. debuted its own eight-team women’s league, playing in its arenas during its off-season. By the end of 1998, it had crushed its competitor.	Though women have been playing basketball competitively since shortly after the game’s invention in 1891, perhaps the most direct impetus for the W.N.B.A. was a single college season — that of the 1994-95 University of Connecticut women’s basketball team, led by its star, Rebecca Lobo, now an ESPN commentator, and its still-dominant coach, Geno Auriemma — whose undefeated run, which happened to take place during an N.H.L. lockout, captivated the country. So, too, did the 1996 Olympic team, stacked with household names at the time like Lobo, Sheryl Swoopes, Lisa Leslie and Dawn Staley, which won gold in Atlanta. In fact, the teams’ obvious appeal actually spawned two leagues: The American Basketball League, founded by four entrepreneurs, began with eight teams in the fall of 1996, traditional basketball season. In the summer of 1997, the N.B.A. debuted its own eight-team women’s league, playing in its arenas during its off-season. By the end of 1998, it had crushed its competitor.
Initially, the N.B.A., a private corporation, owned the W.N.B.A., also a corporation, and all its teams or franchises. But in 2002, the N.B.A. began to sell them. Some W.N.B.A. teams changed cities, some folded, others were added. Today there are 12: Five belong to N.B.A. owners, and seven, including the Dream, belong to independent entities. Collectively, the teams own 50 percent of the W.N.B.A. corporation; the other 50 percent is owned by the N.B.A.’s 30 franchise owners. This works out to N.B.A. ownership of about 70 percent of the league.	Initially, the N.B.A., a private corporation, owned the W.N.B.A., also a corporation, and all its teams or franchises. But in 2002, the N.B.A. began to sell them. Some W.N.B.A. teams changed cities, some folded, others were added. Today there are 12: Five belong to N.B.A. owners, and seven, including the Dream, belong to independent entities. Collectively, the teams own 50 percent of the W.N.B.A. corporation; the other 50 percent is owned by the N.B.A.’s 30 franchise owners. This works out to N.B.A. ownership of about 70 percent of the league.
As the W.N.B.A.’s ownership structure became more complicated so, too, did its narrative — especially because neither the N.B.A., nor the W.N.B.A., nor any of its teams will disclose complete financial information. The W.N.B.A.’s attendance peaked at almost 11,000 fans per game in 1998, its second season; its current average is 6,800, a drop of close to 40 percent. But all young leagues struggle to sell tickets. The N.B.A., founded in 1946, is 73 years old; when it was about the age of the W.N.B.A. now, Wilt Chamberlain played his legendary 100-point game in 1962 in front of roughly 4,000 spectators. And because the league is small, a single franchise’s decisions can make an outsize difference: Last season, the New York Liberty owner, James Dolan, moved the team from Madison Square Garden, where it averaged 9,000 fans per game, to the Westchester County Center, which holds 4,400, forcing at least a 50 percent drop in attendance. (The team has since been purchased by Joseph Tsai, a founder of Alibaba; Tsai recently took control of the Brooklyn Nets, in the N.B.A., but where the Liberty will play next season is unclear.)	As the W.N.B.A.’s ownership structure became more complicated so, too, did its narrative — especially because neither the N.B.A., nor the W.N.B.A., nor any of its teams will disclose complete financial information. The W.N.B.A.’s attendance peaked at almost 11,000 fans per game in 1998, its second season; its current average is 6,800, a drop of close to 40 percent. But all young leagues struggle to sell tickets. The N.B.A., founded in 1946, is 73 years old; when it was about the age of the W.N.B.A. now, Wilt Chamberlain played his legendary 100-point game in 1962 in front of roughly 4,000 spectators. And because the league is small, a single franchise’s decisions can make an outsize difference: Last season, the New York Liberty owner, James Dolan, moved the team from Madison Square Garden, where it averaged 9,000 fans per game, to the Westchester County Center, which holds 4,400, forcing at least a 50 percent drop in attendance. (The team has since been purchased by Joseph Tsai, a founder of Alibaba; Tsai recently took control of the Brooklyn Nets, in the N.B.A., but where the Liberty will play next season is unclear.)
Gate receipts, while critical, do not solely determine a franchise’s value. The fact that since 2009 W.N.B.A. teams have been sold but not shuttered hints that, at the very least, they aren’t incurring debt. They might well be attracting fans new to basketball who then go to N.B.A. games. They may also, through creative financial arrangements, like paying rental fees to facilities controlled by their owner (a common practice in men’s sports), claim tax-deductible losses while legally generating revenue elsewhere. In fact, in 2014, the W.N.B.A.’s president, Laurel Richie, told the Sports Business Journal that some of the franchises had begun to see profits. The first to do so, in 2011, was the Connecticut Sun, owned by the Mohegan Tribe, which attached its arena to its casino, in UConn country. By 2013, the N.B.A.-affiliated Minnesota Lynx (Timberwolves), Indiana Fever (Pacers) and Phoenix Mercury (Suns), were also in the black, as was the Seattle Storm, which the SuperSonics’ Oklahoma-based owners had sold to Force Ten Hoops, a partnership owned by several local businesswomen, just before moving their N.B.A. team to Oklahoma City and renaming them the Thunder, leaving the Storm as the only professional basketball ticket in town. Each market seemed to demand its own strategy, but the teams had in common that they were at least 10 years old, had owners with significant resources to spend on them, were in a basketball-hungry locale and had won or played for a championship. This season, the Storm is defending its third title.	Gate receipts, while critical, do not solely determine a franchise’s value. The fact that since 2009 W.N.B.A. teams have been sold but not shuttered hints that, at the very least, they aren’t incurring debt. They might well be attracting fans new to basketball who then go to N.B.A. games. They may also, through creative financial arrangements, like paying rental fees to facilities controlled by their owner (a common practice in men’s sports), claim tax-deductible losses while legally generating revenue elsewhere. In fact, in 2014, the W.N.B.A.’s president, Laurel Richie, told the Sports Business Journal that some of the franchises had begun to see profits. The first to do so, in 2011, was the Connecticut Sun, owned by the Mohegan Tribe, which attached its arena to its casino, in UConn country. By 2013, the N.B.A.-affiliated Minnesota Lynx (Timberwolves), Indiana Fever (Pacers) and Phoenix Mercury (Suns), were also in the black, as was the Seattle Storm, which the SuperSonics’ Oklahoma-based owners had sold to Force Ten Hoops, a partnership owned by several local businesswomen, just before moving their N.B.A. team to Oklahoma City and renaming them the Thunder, leaving the Storm as the only professional basketball ticket in town. Each market seemed to demand its own strategy, but the teams had in common that they were at least 10 years old, had owners with significant resources to spend on them, were in a basketball-hungry locale and had won or played for a championship. This season, the Storm is defending its third title.
Over all, thanks to the N.B.A.’s backing, the W.N.B.A. is by far the longest-running women’s professional sports league in America. However, a competing narrative — largely put forward by the N.B.A. itself — is that the league has always lost money. In the lead-up to the continuing collective-bargaining negotiations with the W.N.B.A. players’ union, Adam Silver, the N.B.A.’s commissioner, told the A.P. that the league had lost more than $10 million in every year of its existence. Many questioned the wisdom of an executive sowing doubts about his own product. But the figure is probably accurate. “This isn’t a lie,” Rodney Fort, a professor of sport management at the University of Michigan, told me. “The I.R.S. is listening. It’s just that that may not reflect the value to them of owning them.” Teams’ accounting tricks are part of the equation, and the W.N.B.A. most likely serves to improve the N.B.A.’s image among women. Even if the figure of the $10 million loss is a recurring and representative one, it’s worth keeping in mind that the N.B.A. takes in an estimated $8 billion a year. “This is silly,” David Berri, a professor of economics at Southern Utah University, says. “This is a tiny, little business. It’s irrelevant whether they’re making money or not.”	Over all, thanks to the N.B.A.’s backing, the W.N.B.A. is by far the longest-running women’s professional sports league in America. However, a competing narrative — largely put forward by the N.B.A. itself — is that the league has always lost money. In the lead-up to the continuing collective-bargaining negotiations with the W.N.B.A. players’ union, Adam Silver, the N.B.A.’s commissioner, told the A.P. that the league had lost more than $10 million in every year of its existence. Many questioned the wisdom of an executive sowing doubts about his own product. But the figure is probably accurate. “This isn’t a lie,” Rodney Fort, a professor of sport management at the University of Michigan, told me. “The I.R.S. is listening. It’s just that that may not reflect the value to them of owning them.” Teams’ accounting tricks are part of the equation, and the W.N.B.A. most likely serves to improve the N.B.A.’s image among women. Even if the figure of the $10 million loss is a recurring and representative one, it’s worth keeping in mind that the N.B.A. takes in an estimated $8 billion a year. “This is silly,” David Berri, a professor of economics at Southern Utah University, says. “This is a tiny, little business. It’s irrelevant whether they’re making money or not.”
Silver countered such criticisms by telling me, “I think it’s easy for people to say we shouldn’t be talking about losing money when it’s not their money.”	Silver countered such criticisms by telling me, “I think it’s easy for people to say we shouldn’t be talking about losing money when it’s not their money.”
Claiming financial losses to justify lower player salaries is a common tactic in labor negotiations with men’s teams, too. But a W.N.B.A. team’s salary cap is just under $1 million; the maximum salary for a player is $117,900, a figure that has changed little to account for star power or experience. (Sue Bird, a guard on the Storm and one of the league’s biggest names, says she has had a total of about a 1 percent raise over her 17-year career, less than the cost-of-living increase in Seattle.) Rookies, even former college superstars, make $54,000 at most. As a result, many players spend their off-seasons, from October till May, playing in Europe or Asia for teams funded by wealthy sports clubs or feuding oligarchs, who can pay them many times what they make in the W.N.B.A. There’s no recovery time between seasons; no chance to practice with teammates; no vacations or holidays with family and friends. And for the teams, there are eight months during which their best marketing assets, the athletes themselves, are out of town.	Claiming financial losses to justify lower player salaries is a common tactic in labor negotiations with men’s teams, too. But a W.N.B.A. team’s salary cap is just under $1 million; the maximum salary for a player is $117,900, a figure that has changed little to account for star power or experience. (Sue Bird, a guard on the Storm and one of the league’s biggest names, says she has had a total of about a 1 percent raise over her 17-year career, less than the cost-of-living increase in Seattle.) Rookies, even former college superstars, make $54,000 at most. As a result, many players spend their off-seasons, from October till May, playing in Europe or Asia for teams funded by wealthy sports clubs or feuding oligarchs, who can pay them many times what they make in the W.N.B.A. There’s no recovery time between seasons; no chance to practice with teammates; no vacations or holidays with family and friends. And for the teams, there are eight months during which their best marketing assets, the athletes themselves, are out of town.
When Nneka Ogwumike, the president of the players’ union executive committee and a forward for the Los Angeles Sparks, announced in The Players’ Tribune that the union would be opting out of its collective-bargaining agreement, she was careful to make clear that they were not demanding “some LeBron money” ($35.65 million annually, or about three times the combined salaries of the W.N.B.A.’s 144 players). Neither the league nor the union will disclose the specifics of what’s being negotiated. Ogwumike said the players want improvements to their experience and health and safety. (The current agreement has minimal support for working mothers, for instance.) But, she said, first priority is player compensation and salary. Berri said he believes the league’s revenue is about $70 million, which would mean the players are getting less than 20 percent; N.B.A. players get 50 percent of their league’s revenue.	When Nneka Ogwumike, the president of the players’ union executive committee and a forward for the Los Angeles Sparks, announced in The Players’ Tribune that the union would be opting out of its collective-bargaining agreement, she was careful to make clear that they were not demanding “some LeBron money” ($35.65 million annually, or about three times the combined salaries of the W.N.B.A.’s 144 players). Neither the league nor the union will disclose the specifics of what’s being negotiated. Ogwumike said the players want improvements to their experience and health and safety. (The current agreement has minimal support for working mothers, for instance.) But, she said, first priority is player compensation and salary. Berri said he believes the league’s revenue is about $70 million, which would mean the players are getting less than 20 percent; N.B.A. players get 50 percent of their league’s revenue.
To give them that — “a minimum investment,” Berri says — would cost the N.B.A. just over $20 million. “This is pocket change at this point,” Cheryl Reeve, the coach and general manager of the Minnesota Lynx, told me. “They just have to have the willingness to do it.”	To give them that — “a minimum investment,” Berri says — would cost the N.B.A. just over $20 million. “This is pocket change at this point,” Cheryl Reeve, the coach and general manager of the Minnesota Lynx, told me. “They just have to have the willingness to do it.”
How much investment would it take for the W.N.B.A. to stand on its own? And why has neither it nor any women’s professional sports league in America gotten that yet? Men’s leagues, simply by virtue of starting decades earlier, have enjoyed countless advantages: baseball, basketball and football were well underway when commercial television began reaching a large audience, elevating regional stars into national heroes. Currently, women athletes get about 2 percent of the coverage on ESPN’s “SportsCenter” and just over 3 percent on local news in Los Angeles, according to a 2015 study by researchers at Purdue University and the University of Southern California. And when they were featured, the segments tended to be delivered “in a matter-of-fact, uninspiring and lackluster manner” in contrast to the “continuous cacophony of exciting coverage of men’s sports.” Online, Berri has noted, sites like NBC Sports often give more coverage to animals — horses, dogs, fish — than to women.	How much investment would it take for the W.N.B.A. to stand on its own? And why has neither it nor any women’s professional sports league in America gotten that yet? Men’s leagues, simply by virtue of starting decades earlier, have enjoyed countless advantages: baseball, basketball and football were well underway when commercial television began reaching a large audience, elevating regional stars into national heroes. Currently, women athletes get about 2 percent of the coverage on ESPN’s “SportsCenter” and just over 3 percent on local news in Los Angeles, according to a 2015 study by researchers at Purdue University and the University of Southern California. And when they were featured, the segments tended to be delivered “in a matter-of-fact, uninspiring and lackluster manner” in contrast to the “continuous cacophony of exciting coverage of men’s sports.” Online, Berri has noted, sites like NBC Sports often give more coverage to animals — horses, dogs, fish — than to women.
“I think exposure on television is a material part of changing the game here,” Alisha Valavanis, the chief executive and general manager of the Storm, says. “We need the W.N.B.A. accessible to every household in the country.”	“I think exposure on television is a material part of changing the game here,” Alisha Valavanis, the chief executive and general manager of the Storm, says. “We need the W.N.B.A. accessible to every household in the country.”
Silver, on the other hand, told me that attendance is the most important ingredient in a league’s success and must come first: “It’s also our experience that, from a media standpoint, unless you have a vibrant arena, unless you have an active audience in your buildings, it diminishes the quality of your presentation. Because there’s no energy around the telecast.”	Silver, on the other hand, told me that attendance is the most important ingredient in a league’s success and must come first: “It’s also our experience that, from a media standpoint, unless you have a vibrant arena, unless you have an active audience in your buildings, it diminishes the quality of your presentation. Because there’s no energy around the telecast.”
And yet, last year, TV ratings for N.B.A. games declined 5 percent, while those for W.N.B.A. games, though much lower in absolute numbers, increased 64 percent, despite being available mostly on cable channels — and then only erratically. In June and July, the soccer Women’s World Cup reached roughly a billion viewers, shattering records set during the 2015 tournament. Fox executives attributed this largely to their decision to air 22 of the 36 group-stage games on network television as opposed to putting them on cable, as they did four years ago. Coverage created ratings, it seems.	And yet, last year, TV ratings for N.B.A. games declined 5 percent, while those for W.N.B.A. games, though much lower in absolute numbers, increased 64 percent, despite being available mostly on cable channels — and then only erratically. In June and July, the soccer Women’s World Cup reached roughly a billion viewers, shattering records set during the 2015 tournament. Fox executives attributed this largely to their decision to air 22 of the 36 group-stage games on network television as opposed to putting them on cable, as they did four years ago. Coverage created ratings, it seems.
Men’s sports have also received public subsidies for stadium improvements to increase attendance. Over the past 30 years, construction costs alone for new and renovated major-league professional sports facilities for M.L.B., N.F.L., N.H.L., N.B.A. and M.L.S. teams exceeded $58 billion, more than half of which was publicly funded, according to Victor Matheson, a professor of economics and accounting at the College of the Holy Cross, in Worcester, Mass. In Atlanta in recent years, taxpayers funded nearly a third of the construction costs that went into new stadiums for the Braves ($622 million) and the Falcons (whose $1.6 billion facility is shared with the United) and the renovations for the Hawks’ arena ($192 million). The only women who can play in one of them are players on the Dream, for three months, and even then they sometimes have to get out of the way. “Five games this year we will get kicked out of State Farm,” Brock told me in April, referring to potential playoff dates in September and October, when the arena will be occupied by, among other events, Disney on Ice and the Hawks’ season opener. “That doesn’t happen to the men.”	Men’s sports have also received public subsidies for stadium improvements to increase attendance. Over the past 30 years, construction costs alone for new and renovated major-league professional sports facilities for M.L.B., N.F.L., N.H.L., N.B.A. and M.L.S. teams exceeded $58 billion, more than half of which was publicly funded, according to Victor Matheson, a professor of economics and accounting at the College of the Holy Cross, in Worcester, Mass. In Atlanta in recent years, taxpayers funded nearly a third of the construction costs that went into new stadiums for the Braves ($622 million) and the Falcons (whose $1.6 billion facility is shared with the United) and the renovations for the Hawks’ arena ($192 million). The only women who can play in one of them are players on the Dream, for three months, and even then they sometimes have to get out of the way. “Five games this year we will get kicked out of State Farm,” Brock told me in April, referring to potential playoff dates in September and October, when the arena will be occupied by, among other events, Disney on Ice and the Hawks’ season opener. “That doesn’t happen to the men.”
Many in women’s professional sports are tired of hearing that until their leagues increase attendance or draw higher ratings, they don’t deserve serious investment, which has always seemed to come first for men. Money spent, or “lost,” on them is typically described as a “cost,” while money poured into men’s franchises, many of which lose much more of it, is described as an “investment.” According to an article in The Sacramento Bee, published just after the city was awarded an M.L.S. franchise this spring, most of that league’s teams are losing money, yet investors are enthusiastically paying $200 million expansion fees to buy in. No one would agree that M.L.S. gives fans soccer at its finest. But when it comes to fundamentals — pure basketball — the W.N.B.A. does.	Many in women’s professional sports are tired of hearing that until their leagues increase attendance or draw higher ratings, they don’t deserve serious investment, which has always seemed to come first for men. Money spent, or “lost,” on them is typically described as a “cost,” while money poured into men’s franchises, many of which lose much more of it, is described as an “investment.” According to an article in The Sacramento Bee, published just after the city was awarded an M.L.S. franchise this spring, most of that league’s teams are losing money, yet investors are enthusiastically paying $200 million expansion fees to buy in. No one would agree that M.L.S. gives fans soccer at its finest. But when it comes to fundamentals — pure basketball — the W.N.B.A. does.
“Is every owner in every sport being asked, ‘Is your team making money or not?’ Because that’s going to decide whether the league is viable or not,” Vince Kozar, the chief operating officer of the Phoenix Mercury, told me. “The year-over-year comparisons feel really shortsighted and really specific to women.”	“Is every owner in every sport being asked, ‘Is your team making money or not?’ Because that’s going to decide whether the league is viable or not,” Vince Kozar, the chief operating officer of the Phoenix Mercury, told me. “The year-over-year comparisons feel really shortsighted and really specific to women.”
They also tend to hijack any narrative about the league. Precious column inches and TV minutes that could be spent on other story lines — Feuding teammates! Rumored trades! Championship predictions! — end up being devoted to considerations of whether the W.N.B.A. will ever match the success of the men’s game. And frustratingly, even to explore this dynamic requires you to repeat those comparisons all over again.	They also tend to hijack any narrative about the league. Precious column inches and TV minutes that could be spent on other story lines — Feuding teammates! Rumored trades! Championship predictions! — end up being devoted to considerations of whether the W.N.B.A. will ever match the success of the men’s game. And frustratingly, even to explore this dynamic requires you to repeat those comparisons all over again.
In March, while most of the Dream’s players were overseas, Renee Montgomery was in Atlanta, trying to imagine life after basketball. If she were a man, she would be a multimillionaire and never have to work again, unless she felt like it. After winning a national championship at the University of Connecticut, with her Dream teammate Tiffany Hayes, in 2009, she was drafted fourth overall by the Minnesota Lynx. The fourth pick in the N.B.A. that year, Tyreke Evans, currently makes $12.4 million a year, more than 100 times what Montgomery does earning the league maximum. If she were a man, this paragraph also might have started another way, perhaps with a description of her skill: the slouch in her shoulders and almost casual way she lets loose a three-point shot; how her coaches say she plays joyfully, like a little kid.	In March, while most of the Dream’s players were overseas, Renee Montgomery was in Atlanta, trying to imagine life after basketball. If she were a man, she would be a multimillionaire and never have to work again, unless she felt like it. After winning a national championship at the University of Connecticut, with her Dream teammate Tiffany Hayes, in 2009, she was drafted fourth overall by the Minnesota Lynx. The fourth pick in the N.B.A. that year, Tyreke Evans, currently makes $12.4 million a year, more than 100 times what Montgomery does earning the league maximum. If she were a man, this paragraph also might have started another way, perhaps with a description of her skill: the slouch in her shoulders and almost casual way she lets loose a three-point shot; how her coaches say she plays joyfully, like a little kid.
Montgomery’s trajectory in the league has been typical: After a year, she was traded to the Sun, then briefly to the Storm, then back to the Lynx. In the off-seasons, she played in Russia, Lithuania, France, Turkey, Australia, Poland and Israel, which is where she was last year when Nicki Collen called and persuaded her to sign a multiyear contract. This off-season, Montgomery, who at 32 is the Dream’s second-oldest player, decided she needed a retirement plan. So she turned down offers from overseas and signed up for acting classes. She also tried to increase her social media presence. “I used to be a really private person,” she told me. “Now I try to post something every day.”	Montgomery’s trajectory in the league has been typical: After a year, she was traded to the Sun, then briefly to the Storm, then back to the Lynx. In the off-seasons, she played in Russia, Lithuania, France, Turkey, Australia, Poland and Israel, which is where she was last year when Nicki Collen called and persuaded her to sign a multiyear contract. This off-season, Montgomery, who at 32 is the Dream’s second-oldest player, decided she needed a retirement plan. So she turned down offers from overseas and signed up for acting classes. She also tried to increase her social media presence. “I used to be a really private person,” she told me. “Now I try to post something every day.”
One Tuesday afternoon this past spring, she participated in shooting drills and a three-hour improv comedy class. Afterward, she had arranged to tape the first episode of an interview show she created to air on Facebook, “Bring Your Own Snacks,” at the TV studio of an organization that trains young people to use audiovisual equipment. Her idea was to build up a highlight reel and audition as an actress or an interviewer. “Life in basketball has been great, but now that I’m trying to talk about life after basketball, I don’t have a résumé, I don’t have anything,” she said. “No previous work experience.”	One Tuesday afternoon this past spring, she participated in shooting drills and a three-hour improv comedy class. Afterward, she had arranged to tape the first episode of an interview show she created to air on Facebook, “Bring Your Own Snacks,” at the TV studio of an organization that trains young people to use audiovisual equipment. Her idea was to build up a highlight reel and audition as an actress or an interviewer. “Life in basketball has been great, but now that I’m trying to talk about life after basketball, I don’t have a résumé, I don’t have anything,” she said. “No previous work experience.”
In her car outside the studio, Montgomery checked her email. Dan Goldberger had sent a note asking her to attend a three-point competition for kids at a nearby high school. She had been invited to sit in their “influencers” section. “That cracks me up,” she said and put it in her calendar. A willingness to perform these kinds of civic engagements — “shaking hands and kissing babies,” as Adam Fox, the chief executive of the Chicago Sky, described it to me — has been a constant for the league. Without a huge marketing budget, unpaid appearances are a way to get exposure. With Collen at the helm, the Dream were raising their community profile, too: The coach attended without complaint nearly every event Goldberger asked her to. “It’s still that grass-roots effort that is women’s basketball,” Collen told me. “Especially in such a saturated market, how do you differentiate yourself?”	In her car outside the studio, Montgomery checked her email. Dan Goldberger had sent a note asking her to attend a three-point competition for kids at a nearby high school. She had been invited to sit in their “influencers” section. “That cracks me up,” she said and put it in her calendar. A willingness to perform these kinds of civic engagements — “shaking hands and kissing babies,” as Adam Fox, the chief executive of the Chicago Sky, described it to me — has been a constant for the league. Without a huge marketing budget, unpaid appearances are a way to get exposure. With Collen at the helm, the Dream were raising their community profile, too: The coach attended without complaint nearly every event Goldberger asked her to. “It’s still that grass-roots effort that is women’s basketball,” Collen told me. “Especially in such a saturated market, how do you differentiate yourself?”
The W.N.B.A. has long wrestled with the same question, though it has a clear, distinguishing feature: It is the most diverse league in professional sports, according to the Racial and Gender Report Card issued in 2018 by the University of Central Florida Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport. More than half of all professional positions on its teams are held by women, and more than a quarter of these jobs are held by people of color. It also has a notable number of openly gay players and coaches, including many of its biggest stars. In 2014, it became the first pro sports league to hold events celebrating L.G.B.T. Pride month, and players have lent their names to causes ranging from justice reform to gun control to voting rights, often using social media to speak directly to fans.	The W.N.B.A. has long wrestled with the same question, though it has a clear, distinguishing feature: It is the most diverse league in professional sports, according to the Racial and Gender Report Card issued in 2018 by the University of Central Florida Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport. More than half of all professional positions on its teams are held by women, and more than a quarter of these jobs are held by people of color. It also has a notable number of openly gay players and coaches, including many of its biggest stars. In 2014, it became the first pro sports league to hold events celebrating L.G.B.T. Pride month, and players have lent their names to causes ranging from justice reform to gun control to voting rights, often using social media to speak directly to fans.
Initially, these qualities were not viewed as salable to sponsors or the public. “Historically, the men can just be really, really great at their sport,” Lindsay Kagawa Colas, a sports agent at Wasserman who represents many of the W.N.B.A.’s biggest names, told me. “Women have to be everything. They have to be the best. They have to be beautiful. They have to be well spoken. They have to be safe.” In the 1930s, barnstorming women’s teams like C.M. Olson’s All-American Redheads managed to make a living trouncing local men’s squads while maintaining a polished appearance and impeccable manners off the court. A few years ago, the W.N.B.A. rookie orientation still included tutorials on makeup, hairstyle and fashion.	Initially, these qualities were not viewed as salable to sponsors or the public. “Historically, the men can just be really, really great at their sport,” Lindsay Kagawa Colas, a sports agent at Wasserman who represents many of the W.N.B.A.’s biggest names, told me. “Women have to be everything. They have to be the best. They have to be beautiful. They have to be well spoken. They have to be safe.” In the 1930s, barnstorming women’s teams like C.M. Olson’s All-American Redheads managed to make a living trouncing local men’s squads while maintaining a polished appearance and impeccable manners off the court. A few years ago, the W.N.B.A. rookie orientation still included tutorials on makeup, hairstyle and fashion.
But the marketplace may finally be changing, in part because of women players’ willingness to challenge what they were told it wanted. As an example, Colas points to her client Brittney Griner, the Phoenix center, who declined that tutorial and became the first openly gay athlete to sign with Nike, in 2013; Griner is tattooed, 6-foot-9 and models the company’s men’s wear. More recently, the Storm has successfully promoted Sue Bird’s “it couple” status with the popular soccer star Megan Rapinoe. Seimone Augustus, a guard on the Lynx, noticed a dearth of league apparel, like the N.B.A. Starter-brand bomber jacket she remembered having as a kid, and decided to design a line of clothing herself. She told me she has seen more team merchandise at airports, “so people know W.N.B.A. teams even exist in their markets.” Last year, Mountain Dew, an N.B.A. partner, made its first personal endorsement of a W.N.B.A. player, the Las Vegas Aces forward A’ja Wilson, and offered her equal placement with N.B.A. athletes in its ad campaigns.	But the marketplace may finally be changing, in part because of women players’ willingness to challenge what they were told it wanted. As an example, Colas points to her client Brittney Griner, the Phoenix center, who declined that tutorial and became the first openly gay athlete to sign with Nike, in 2013; Griner is tattooed, 6-foot-9 and models the company’s men’s wear. More recently, the Storm has successfully promoted Sue Bird’s “it couple” status with the popular soccer star Megan Rapinoe. Seimone Augustus, a guard on the Lynx, noticed a dearth of league apparel, like the N.B.A. Starter-brand bomber jacket she remembered having as a kid, and decided to design a line of clothing herself. She told me she has seen more team merchandise at airports, “so people know W.N.B.A. teams even exist in their markets.” Last year, Mountain Dew, an N.B.A. partner, made its first personal endorsement of a W.N.B.A. player, the Las Vegas Aces forward A’ja Wilson, and offered her equal placement with N.B.A. athletes in its ad campaigns.