I’m floundering in the discourse. The “Do Not Disturb” feature has nothing on a social media addiction. I called for help but got the answering machine. An automated voice asked if I might leave my awards ballot at the dial tone.
Folks, I don’t mean to be a curmudgeon. Our collective unwillingness to bake sports conversations in anything other than a debate-based batter depresses me, sure, but it’s an inevitable byproduct of the WNBA’s massive and rapid growth. If ignorant and insecure men shouting uninformed opinions on TV have such a hold on our attention, at least let us be honest about intentionality: they are not here in good faith but instead to profit off an undeniable product. This is not an aspirational format for compelling basketball discussion.
Two paragraphs in and I’ve already led us astray. See, I didn’t gather you here to complain, but instead to celebrate – to offer an alternative format in which we may express our love for the game.
We’re here to appreciate the singular greatness of A’ja Wilson.
If we must operate within the miserable framework of argument as currency, of debate as a way to move the needle, then I declare A’ja Wilson the author of what will go down as the greatest career in WNBA history. No disrespect to the legends. I was told the only way to get paid was through views and clicks.
To the higher-ups at ESPN, The Ringer, and others – those suddenly eager to dip their toes in the WNBA’s wondrous waters – a memo: every programming “A Block” shall henceforth be named the “A’ja Block.” If you wish to discuss others, you must first – at the top of your show – give flowers to a woman who makes the seemingly impossible an everyday occurrence.
In clearer terms: stop playing on A’ja Wilson’s name!
We’re bearing witness to something special, and only a fraction of it has to do with basketball. In a sports world that prizes toughness and chastises anything perceived as vulnerability, Wilson is proving how foolish such binaries are. Or rather, Wilson is proving that opening up and being vulnerable actually makes you tougher.
Who is harder to guard: the player whose feelings and frustrations are bottled, or the player who moves freely and securely through good days and bad? The player who projects steely indifference, or the player who wears empathy on their sleeve and expresses love and gratitude toward those around them?
Throughout the 2024 season, one in which No. 22 has shattered our collective understanding of what is possible on the court, Wilson has given us glimpses into how hefty her crown truly is. Days when she hates being A’ja Wilson. Days when becoming the greatest basketball player overwhelms and obscures way loftier traits such as becoming the greatest teammate, the greatest version of yourself.
Wilson has always been an exceptional teammate, but now she’s sharing the depths of her compassion with the world, and for that, we should be tremendously grateful.
Testimonials from teammates showering Wilson with praise and adoration have been a staple of Las Vegas press conferences this season. Hall of Fame level players and veterans such as Tiffany Hayes and Alysha Clark have expressed how Wilson is different from anyone they’ve ever been around. Not just the athletic transcendence, but the down-to-earth nature of her person, the caring heart and the profound soul.
It goes beyond the Aces. This offseason, Wilson released what would become a New York Times bestseller: Dear Black Girls, How to Be True to You. In sharing stories from her life, Wilson has uplifted, inspired, and helped kids who idolize her, and who look to her as a hero. Wilson understands the gravity of her platform and is deliberate regarding the ways in which she uses it.
It’s no coincidence Wilson has such a grand perspective on life. Her parents, Eva and Roscoe, have been by Wilson’s side every step of her basketball career.
Eva often shares the saying, “God’s plan in God’s time.” Wilson is an embodiment of what is possible when you work as hard as you possibly can, exhibit deep care and empathy for those around you, and stay the course when things are frustrating, difficult, or flat-out depleting. Her faith has helped guide her through the ups and the downs of life as a superstar.
“I feel like I’m checking off boxes,” said Wilson after yet another win leading up to the Olympic break earlier this season. “This is what I mean when I tell young people, ‘Dream big. Dream so big because you never know when you’re going to check them off. It doesn’t have to happen all at once. It just kind of happens when it needs to, when the time is right, when God puts it in your space – you’re going to be able to attain it.’”
Don’t get it twisted: a competitive flame burns fiercely in Wilson’s person. How else would one put together the most complete, supreme season in league history?
I was lucky enough to witness Eva’s delight in the moments after Las Vegas defeated New York to claim the 2023 WNBA title. Speaking on the phone as she waded through waves of people on the Barclays Center hardwood, the Finals MVP’s mother gleefully remarked on stunned expressions pasted across faces of Liberty fans who’d stuck around to watch commissioner Cathy Engelbert hand Las Vegas the trophy. It was a competitor’s delight. A get-back at anyone who questioned Wilson’s preeminence.
Eva’s reaction felt so incredibly earned. Forget that her daughter just led the Aces to the first back-to-back WNBA championships since the early-2000s Los Angeles Sparks; her daughter – along the way – had been subjected to hate and disrespect at every turn. This didn’t have to do with Liberty fans specifically as much as it did a larger conversation regarding racism and misogynoir in certain pockets of WNBA media and fandom.
The diminishment of a Black woman’s accomplishments in favor of inferior white accomplishments is something that has plagued the WNBA since its inception. This was the most recent, overt example of a player like Wilson having to be ten times as good as her white counterparts to receive proper recognition and acclaim.
And so, no well-adjusted person would’ve blamed Wilson for receding when Chelsea Gray went down with an injury late in Game 3, or for feeling deflated by a pulsating and suffocating pressure. Wilson had already been asked to do so much. The sting of being passed over by MVP voters held some serious bite.
Instead, the woman whose statue stands tall in Columbia, South Carolina responded with what can only be described as an iconic, title-sealing performance.
Cue two overjoyed and proud parents strolling Barclays Center in a euphoric haze.
That sets the table for Wilson’s 2024 regular season, one that was so undeniable it begs the question: will any awards voter have the gall to tab someone else MVP this time?
What fascinates me, once again, is the intentionality with which Wilson entered this year. Prior to the season, Wilson spoke with Sheryl Swoopes, inquiring about what it takes to three-peat in the WNBA. To have such heightened awareness about 1) the history of the game, and 2) the resources available to you in such an audacious quest is flat-out legendary and helps explain why Wilson has been able to dominate despite an up-and-down Aces campaign.
Ironically, it was her absence on September 8th for a game against New York at Barclays Center that hammered home the level of greatness we’re witnessing, even moreso than Wilson eclipsing 1,000 points in a single season or leading the league in a bevy of statistical categories.
This was the first game Wilson missed since August 13th of 2019, back when vinyl records were considered a groundbreaking advancement in technology and gas was 25 cents a gallon (*these assertions were unable to be confirmed by the Winsidr editorial department).
Wilson was fine, wearing a walking boot as a precaution for her tweaked right ankle. Giving her some rest was wise, with a gauntlet of playoff opponents looming. I’m going to use another line break here, however, to emphasize the absurdity of what was presented in the previous paragraph …
A’ja Wilson did not miss one single game for over half a decade.
Excuse me?!? Cue the woman on the airplane who went viral earlier this year, because A’ja Wilson is not real.
There are many qualities we attribute as indicative of leadership. Wilson checks every box, but an under-discussed element is how she outworks her competition, thus making herself available day in and day out. She values showing up for her teammates, and she understands playing every game on the calendar is an essential part of her role.
Kelsey Plum is the only player who has been on the Las Vegas Aces every day of Wilson’s career. Plum’s awe of Wilson grows by the hour.
“It’s crazy that [A’ja] would be averaging 28 [points]a game,” said Plum earlier this season after Wilson set the all-time franchise record for points scored. “This is a normal day at the office. That’s absurd. You realize that, right? And everyone’s doubling and tripling and game planning and it really doesn’t matter.”
“I think that we need to put it in perspective. We’re watching one of the greatest players of all time in front of our eyes.”
Yes! Wilson is in the midst of a run that – with decades of distance – will be regarded as one of the greatest stretches of basketball played by anyone, in any league, ever. I could’ve written 2,000 words on the nuances of it all, the offensive and defensive brilliance, the consistency, the biggest moments bringing out the best in #22.
2,000 words of statistics, highlights, and verbiage aren’t necessary, though, if you’ve been paying attention. Call me a gatekeeper and I’ll call you a casual. The talking heads deserve to be ignored because they’re embarrassingly late to the party.
Let me resist the urge to continue within the framework I decried at the top of this piece, the one in which comparisons breed content and terms like “greatest” are used for contextualization. Let me flush Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith from the corners of my brain they have so unpleasantly intruded upon, spilling their nonsense all over our once pristine orange carpets.
All we need are the facts.
In 2017, Wilson announced who she intended to be within the game of basketball. She drove South Carolina to its first National Championship, and the first non-UConn title in half a decade. She did so with the conviction of someone aware of their immense potential. Wilson scored 23 points on 9-of-15 shooting, grabbed 10 rebounds, swatted 4 shots, and swiped 2 steals in a 67-55 win over Mississippi State.
It’s the path toward Las Vegas winning the 2022 WNBA Finals that compels me most, though, for the purposes of this column. Not the staggering dominance as a rookie in 2018, the overflowing bin of accolades that include Wilson’s first MVP award in 2020, or the selections onto All-WNBA first team. No, it’s all in the approach, the patience, and the consistency with which she honors her talent. The determination to improve and the unmatched motor despite three straight years of painful playoff exits.
God’s plan in God’s time.
This brings me to why I really brought you here today. Wilson’s staggering run of 2024 box scores, point and rebound totals that look more like pin numbers, 20/20 stat lines achieved through bloody noses and bruising double teams – that’s all well and swell. But how rare is it for a person to soar into such incomprehensible galaxies of greatness and never lose touch with where they came from, who they want to be, and the mark they wish to leave?
Let every single person around her tell it since she never will:
A’ja Wilson is one-of-one.
