By the time Cathy Engelbert walked onto the court during the WNBA Finals, the applause had already turned to boos. Cameras caught her smile tighten, just slightly, as the commissioner tried to deliver the ceremonial remarks amid the echo of discontent. What most fans in the arena didn’t realize, however, was that the chorus of frustration wasn’t just about basketball — it was about money, ownership, and a controversial deal that could define the league’s future.

It all traces back to 2022, when Engelbert spearheaded what was supposed to be a historic $75 million capital raise — the largest private investment in WNBA history. On paper, it sounded like progress: a 16% stake in the league sold to outside investors to fund marketing, infrastructure, and player development. But now, insiders are calling it one of the most poorly timed financial decisions in modern sports.

Front Office Sports, which first broke the story, revealed that the deal effectively valued the entire WNBA at just $468 million. At the time, Engelbert defended it as “a forward-looking investment to grow women’s basketball.” But two years later, expansion fees alone — with new teams selling for $250 million each — have painted a different picture. The league may now be worth several billion dollars, making that 16% sale look like a major undervaluation.

The Deal That Devalued the League

Sources close to the league describe the capital raise as “a costly mistake” that continues to haunt the commissioner. “It was meant to be a catalyst,” one executive said, “but it ended up being a discount sale of the century.”

The structure of ownership only complicates matters further. The NBA’s 30 team owners still control roughly 42% of the WNBA, while another 42% is held by the league’s team owners. The remaining 15% sits in the hands of those investors from the 2022 deal — a patchwork of business moguls including Ted Leonsis, Joe Tsai, and Herb Simon.

That tangled equity map has become a sticking point in the WNBA’s ongoing collective bargaining negotiations. With the players’ association preparing for a potential lockout, questions are mounting about how the $75 million was used — and whether the money truly went toward improving player salaries, facilities, and marketing, as originally promised.

The Players’ Side: A CBA Showdown Looms

Even before the Finals tipped off, word began to spread that the league and the players’ union had reached a proposal — but not yet an agreement — on a new collective bargaining arrangement. The reported terms, first shared by Front Office Sports, included a proposed supermax salary increase to around $850,000 per year, with a veteran minimum hovering around $300,000.

To the average fan, that might sound like a breakthrough. But within the locker rooms, it sparked frustration. “That’s still not enough,” one player told reporters anonymously. “We’re bringing in more fans, more sponsorships, and more media coverage than ever. Where’s the reflection of that in our paychecks?”

The issue, according to league sources, isn’t just how much players make — it’s how revenue is shared. The WNBA’s current model only triggers revenue sharing if certain financial targets are hit, and the players’ union claims those benchmarks are nearly impossible to meet. Engelbert’s proposed plan doesn’t appear to change that, leaving players skeptical that meaningful pay equity will arrive anytime soon.

One viral post summed up the sentiment bluntly:

“The WNBA doesn’t need charity — it needs fair math.”

Fan Frustration and the Caitlin Clark Effect

Then there’s the Caitlin Clark factor — an undeniable shift in attention that’s shaken up everything from viewership numbers to league politics. Her rookie season helped generate unprecedented buzz, merchandise sales, and broadcast ratings. According to some estimates circulating online, Clark alone accounts for nearly 26% of league-wide revenue impact this year.

That surge in popularity should have been Engelbert’s victory lap. Instead, it’s being used against her. Critics argue that the commissioner and the league failed to anticipate how explosive Clark’s arrival would be — and that the league’s earlier undervaluation effectively left millions, if not billions, on the table.

“Imagine selling your house for half its worth,” one sports economist said, “and then a year later your neighborhood becomes the hottest property in the country. That’s what the WNBA just did.”

Behind Closed Doors: Discontent at the Top

Reports indicate growing unease within ownership circles, too. While some insiders claim Engelbert still has allies among NBA-affiliated owners, others say her future is hanging by a thread. “People are asking hard questions about where the money went,” one executive told Front Office Sports. “The optics aren’t good, and the Finals booing didn’t help.”

During the Finals broadcast, several clips circulated on social media showing Engelbert being jeered when she appeared on the big screen — a rare public moment of disapproval in a league that’s typically supportive of its leadership. The optics were brutal: a commissioner smiling through the noise while the league she leads struggles to control its own narrative.

Adding to the storm is the emergence of Unrivaled, a startup women’s basketball league led by players themselves. Despite having a fraction of the WNBA’s infrastructure, Unrivaled recently closed a funding round that valued the league at $340 million, with ratings and attendance already rivaling smaller WNBA markets. The optics are damning: how can a brand-new league command nearly the same valuation as a 28-year-old institution?

The Road Ahead: Lockout, Layoffs, and Legacy

If negotiations with the players fall apart, the WNBA could be heading toward the first lockout in its history. That possibility has already sent shivers through team offices, with front offices bracing for what one insider called “a long, ugly winter.”

“We’re looking at a potential freeze in signings, endorsements, everything,” another executive told reporters. “If the players don’t ratify the CBA, it could delay everything from the draft to expansion.”

And yet, amid the chaos, fans and analysts agree on one thing: the WNBA has never been more visible. The league has national headlines, celebrity endorsements, and global interest — all ingredients that could turn this turmoil into transformation.

But only if leadership can survive it.

As one long-time league insider put it:

“This should be the WNBA’s golden era. Instead, it’s a tug-of-war between old money, new power, and a commissioner who might not make it to next season.”

For now, Cathy Engelbert remains in her seat — but the boos, the headlines, and the unanswered questions make one thing clear: the league she helped grow is now the storm she must weather.