Since its fruition in 1996, the WNBA has spent decades proving its talent, yet somehow, women’s basketball is still treated like a secondary sport. Behind the “no one watches” excuse lies a deeper issue: deep-rooted sexism and a pay gap so massive it toes the line of absurdity. Now, with the rise of misogynistic sports betting trends like “blood money,” the disrespect is becoming harder to ignore.
The disparities facing the WNBA reveal a sports culture that consistently undervalues women. These patterns are not accidental, they’re built into expectations, coverage, and pay. Real change begins with recognizing this imbalance.
The pay gap between the NBA and WNBA is one of the clearest indicators of inequality in professional sports. Despite decades of work, WNBA athletes still earn only a fraction of the revenue they help generate. The National Partnership for Women & Families explains, “WNBA athletes are not asking for multi-million dollar contracts, the ask is equity. The NBA has paid its players between 49 and 51 percent of the league’s revenue, WNBA players have taken home a maximum of 22.8 percent.” This gap reflects a system that rewards men’s sports by default, regardless of talent or effort, while women are forced to speak up on something men are given with much less hesitation.
A major reason for the difference in pay and viewership is the imbalance in media coverage. According to the Berkeley Economic Review, men’s basketball receives far more broadcasting, marketing, and prime-time placement than the WNBA. Even when women demonstrate equal levels of skill and professionalism, their games are pushed onto smaller platforms and promoted less aggressively. With fewer highlight reels, fewer interviews, and fewer nationally televised games, audiences are simply not given the same chance to engage with the league. The lack of visibility fuels the myth that “no one watches,” when the real issue is exposure, not interest.
Additionally, the rise of misogynistic sports betting practices shows how female athletes are treated as commodities rather than competitors. One bettor, known online as “FadeMeBets,” has reportedly tracked WNBA players’ menstrual cycles to influence his and others bets. Sharing private biological information in this way not only violates personal boundaries but reduces athletes to data points for gambling profit. This trend, often referred to as “blood money,” highlights how women in sports face levels of scrutiny and disrespect that male athletes are rarely subjected to. It reveals the darker side of a culture that views women’s sports as something to exploit rather than support.
During the summer season, multiple WNBA games were disrupted when neon-colored phallic objects were thrown onto the court. Beyond being a clear safety hazard, these acts were inappropriate for a public sporting event with an unknown age range in the audience. While a single incident would have been alarming on its own, the fact that this occurred repeatedly points to a broader pattern of disrespect toward women’s sports. The use of a phallus in a women’s athletic space is not random, it is invasive and deeply misogynistic. It implies that even in a league built by and for women, male dominance must still be asserted. This behavior reinforces the idea that women’s sports are not taken seriously, but instead treated as something to mock or undermine.
Some argue that the WNBA pay gap is justified simply because the league brings in less revenue. As an anonymous male WCA student explained, “I’m not even going to say it’s unfair, they’re just not bringing in the same amount of revenue.” This perspective treats revenue as the only measure of worth, ignoring the structural barriers that limit women’s sports from reaching that revenue in the first place. The WNBA isn’t asking for equal dollars, they’re asking for equal percentage shares of the revenue they do generate. Equity means being valued proportionately, not punished for a system built without them in mind. Reducing the issue to income alone overlooks the larger problem that keeps women earning less.
Another common claim is that people don’t watch women’s sports because they “just weren’t raised on them.” The student interview said, “I’ve always enjoyed sports because they were what I was raised on. Watching women’s sports hasn’t really been passed down as much.” While this is true for many families, it raises a deeper question: who created the traditions that shape what gets promoted and what gets ignored? The lack of generational exposure was not an accident; it was the result of decades of media choices, broadcasting decisions, and cultural narratives that prioritized men’s sports. It wasn’t until a shockingly recent decade that the WNBA was conceived. Tradition can’t be used as an excuse for inequality when the tradition itself was built on exclusion.
When discussing invasive betting practices, the student agreed that tracking menstrual cycles is a clear violation of privacy. He also pointed out that male athletes face similar scrutiny, noting, “There’s a football player whose wife had just cheated on him… that’s not the viewers’ business and it’s not as stigmatized because they’re men. I would say that’s also unacceptable.” While he’s right, public speculation about athletes’ personal lives is harmful across the board, the comparison only highlights how much further the invasion goes for women. In addition to emotional or relational gossip, women face the exploitation of their biological information, treated as variables in someone else’s gambling strategy. This extra layer of intrusion makes the issue not only comparable, but significantly more disturbing and specific to women athletes.
Creating real change in the WNBA and other women’s sports starts with acknowledging the systems that hold the WNBA back. Better media coverage, fair revenue sharing, and basic respect for athletes’ privacy are essential steps toward equity. Schools, networks, and fans all play a role in elevating women’s basketball to the level of visibility it deserves. Supporting the WNBA isn’t just about watching a game, it’s about challenging the biases that have gone unfixed for decades. If these issues are addressed directly, the league can grow on its own terms rather than fighting uphill for legitimacy. The responsibility to create that future lies with each part of the sports community.
Sexism remains the biggest barrier between the WNBA and the recognition its athletes deserve. From unequal pay to limited coverage to invasive betting trends, the challenges facing women’s basketball reflect a broader pattern of undervaluing female athletes. These issues are not isolated, they are interconnected parts of a system that prioritizes men’s sports by default. Addressing them requires more than acknowledging the talent on the court, it requires confronting the biases that shape how audiences and institutions respond to that talent. The WNBA has already proven its excellence. Now, the question is whether the culture around sports is willing to evolve enough to recognize that women’s sports shouldn’t stay on the bench.
