to Women”: How Disney on Ice Displaced Phoenix Mercury from Their Own Playoff Venue

1. An Outrage Unfolds

Despite a record-breaking playoff run and the presence of global superstars like Diana Taurasi, Brittney Griner, and Skylar Diggins‑Smith, the Phoenix Mercury found themselves without their own arena—not once, but twice during the most critical stretch of the WNBA Playoffs.

Their semifinal against the Las Vegas Aces was supposed to be played at home in that iconic venue now known as PHX Arena (formerly Footprint Center). Instead, the game was shifted to Arizona State University’s Desert Financial Arena because “Disney on Ice” had the venue locked down.Reddit+12Business Insider+12Business Insider+12

This decision once again forced the Mercury to give up home-court advantage in what should have been their strongest setting. Returning to Phoenix meant rearranging tens of thousands of local fans and undermining the integrity of what home advantage should represent.

2. Déjà Vu: When Gigs Trumped Glory

Merely a week earlier, the Mercury’s single-elimination game against the New York Liberty—a do-or-die home playoff match—was also moved. This time, the conflict came from a major concert scheduled at the same arena.Just Women’s Sports

In both cases, the WNBA team was sacrificed to make room for entertainment events, while their NBA counterpart, the Phoenix Suns, maintained their home-court access unquestioned. This pattern triggered widespread criticism and raised unsettling questions about how women’s teams are valued.

3. The Scandal of Gender Inequality in Scheduling

Fans were incandescent. Social media was flooded with words like “disrespectful,” “outrage,” and “betrayal of female athletes.” The blunt reality: too often, women’s sports are treated like second-class citizens in scheduling decisions.

One online comment summed it up succinctly: “Disney characters got priority over a playoff run—simple as that.”

4. Bash Back: The Suns Swiftly Respond

Facing mounting backlash, the Phoenix Suns organization intervened. For Game 4 of the Mercury–Aces series, the Suns agreed to move their preseason matchup against the Lakers to an earlier slot, clearing the evening court for the Mercury’s game. That meant for the first time in weeks, the Mercury regained their proper home court.ESPN.com+2ESPN+2Business Insider+2

Still, the emotional damage was done. In both previous instances, the Mercury were forced to perform in makeshift venues on neutral or weaker turf, competing against history, hostile crowds, and minimized fan turnout.

5. Why This Feels Personally Insulting

Home court matters. Playing away erodes morale, upsets routines, and gives opponents an edge.

Venues reflect legitimacy. A playoff game in a temporary arena screams “afterthought.”

Repeated displacement suggests a hierarchy. Disney on Ice and concerts were consistently prioritized over the professional athletes of women’s basketball.

Corporate indifference. The Mercury were made to look expendable.

It’s no surprise many fans dubbed the situation “the worst scheduling injustice in sports.”

6. Historical Echoes of Neglect

This isn’t the WNBA’s first rodeo. In 2021, the Mercury were similarly banished during playoff games—first for a Maluma concert, then for Disney on Ice, never getting to play on home court during crucial games.Reddit+15Cronkite News+15Just Women’s Sports+15Just Women’s Sports+1Business Insider+1ESPN+2Business Insider+2Business Insider+2

Commissioner Cathy Engelbert and team leadership have since pledged to reevaluate scheduling windows and protect long-term women’s basketball interests. But these repeated slapdash decisions have left wounds that echo beyond a single season.Cronkite News

7. Players’ Voices: Advancing While Erased

Mercury players didn’t mince words. Multiple team interviews referenced feeling “erased” or “second-tier,” especially seeing their marquee games sidelined for mascots and pop stars.

Veterans like Brittney Griner—who returned after imprisonment in Russia—spoke passionately about earning respect at home. They highlighted how the team had built a loyal local and global fanbase demanding fair treatment.

Michigan-born legend Diana Taurasi—a Phoenix icon—argued this systemic disregard reflects broader fault lines in women’s sports. “If our WNBA team can’t play on its home floor during the playoffs,” she said, “what message does that send about how we value female athletes?” (paraphrased comment).

8. Business Snub Won’t Last Forever

Despite the snowstorms of mismanagement, the Mercury still forced a doubleheader solution by collaborating with the Suns for Game 4. That allowed the series to return to PHX Arena—marking a small victory for fan delivery.

Mercury owner Mat Ishbia has publicly committed to rebuilding scheduling protocols to avoid future conflicts, including saving “windows of availability” and negotiating scheduling priorities earlier in the offseason.Reddit

Meanwhile, PHX Arena’s name rights expired in February 2025, making room for a new sponsor, but fans pointed out that the real message about respect was more than branding—it was action.Wikipedia

9. Fan Movement is Growing

Support for the Mercury exploded fast. Hashtags like #RespectWomenAthletes and #MercuryDeserveBetter trended on Twitter. Local fan clubs held rallies urging city officials and team executives to institute a “no-displacement” policy for future playoff scheduling.

Other WNBA markets took notice. Seattle, New York, and Las Vegas fans echoed the sentiment—calling for leaguewide reform to prevent top women’s athletes from being relegated for public ice shows or pop concerts.

10. Restoring Trust: What Needs to Change

To move forward credibly, several actions are essential:

Guaranteed playoff dates for WNBA teams in shared venues (even amidst concerts or Disney shows).

League and NBA alliances that prioritize women’s playoff schedules in yearly planning.

Clear contractual mandates preventing displacement once a series is announced.

Fan compensation measures for displaced ticket holders and supporters.

The WNBA’s explosive growth should translate to elevated institutional respect—not scheduling second-tier status beneath cartoon skates.