As an American citizen, it’s probably safe to bet that you know what basketball is.
Because as a Eugene resident or a University student, chances are you’ve heard something about women’s basketball. (In case you haven’t, the Oregon women successfully defended their Pacific-10 Conference title last season.)
And if you’re a basketball fan, men’s or women’s, then you had to have heard something about the WNBA.
You might have seen the league’s commercials on television during timeouts of NBA games: “We’ve got next” was its slogan. Perhaps you’ve even seen parts of a WNBA game on television. Maybe you’ve watched a whole game, or many.
Of course, you can toss around a few names of star players — Chamique Holdsclaw, Lisa Leslie and Sheryl Swoopes — but you probably don’t discuss their careers with the bravado that you would when discussing Michael Jordan or Wilt Chamberlain.
Chances are that you’ve heard of the WNBA — but I’d be willing to bet you haven’t actually gone to a game yet.
In time, I think you will.
I ventured to the Rose Garden in Portland on June 8 to witness my first WNBA game. My first glance into the arena’s red and black interior was this: large, black curtains bearing the WNBA logo seemlessly hid the Garden’s 300 level of seating, and fans were scattered throughout the two levels of seating below. On the scoreboard monitor, I saw the face of some Portland player I’ve never heard of, but she wore an expression that I’ve seen on the faces of athletes hundreds of times over.
No doubt that these women basketball players have heart — but do their fans?
Upon that player sinking a free throw, the crowd’s response was a resounding “yes.”
As my former sports editor and I sat in our 200 level VIP seats (which we bought from a scalper for $15 a pop), several things went through my mind as I tried to picture success for this new, up-and-coming league.
In Portland, 15,000 fans attending a Fire game is not unrealistic, if they start winning. But then who watches the games of teams who start losing?
Perhaps money can be made in league apparel. But how many street ballers are honestly going to show up to a game donning a Natalie Williams jersey?
Forget about winning the market share by wowing their audiences. Out there on the court I watched Utah’s 7-foot-2 center, Margo Dydek, run up and down the court with the presence of Shawn Bradley. At that height, she can dunk, no doubt — but she didn’t. Nobody else provided many firework moves either.
People go and watch the NBA because it’s interwoven with America’s sporting culture. The NBA makes millions of dollars in revenue because generations of today’s population have grown up idolizing its players. And no female athlete will ever be as visually pleasing as Vince Carter flying toward the hoop, catching the ball in mid-air, putting it under his leg and finishing the 360-degree slam.
But as I sat there watching the game, I couldn’t get over one simple fact.
I was having fun — lots of it.
Fun, because even though the Fire may have trailed by 10 most of the way through, they continued to play like they were right in the thick of the game. Honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a team be behind by 10 in a regular season game with just a couple minutes to go, still playing as hard as they were in the opening minutes.
I’m a sucker for a good Portland-Utah matchup. And on this night, I didn’t end up paying $32 for a top row, 300-level seat, just to see a boring game with a lopsided outcome. That happened to me a few weeks before when I saw the Blazers demolish their Utah NBA counterpart in the playoffs’ second round.
Small-time sports teams in Portland have done well. The Rockies (baseball) and the Winterhawks (hockey) have been successful in drawing faithful fans throughout the years. I don’t see why the Fire won’t do the same.
The WNBA is a league with great potential. Now that there’s a pro women’s hoops league, all of women’s basketball will see improvement, even down at the high school level. More stars will shine. Because now they have something to shoot for, beyond college.
Yet a part of me hopes the WNBA never grows to be too big. Nobody needs another league that is marred by big business and surrounded by talks of big-market conspiracies. The Fire-Starzz game I watched wasn’t merely a collection of millionaires getting together to play some ball — it was much, much more.
But that’s a whole ‘nother column, and a long one at that. And for now, I’m not worried about that. While I was at the game, I kept on scanning my eyes across the empty seats. Isn’t that Oregon women’s coach Jody Runge, sitting down there on the baseline? Yup.
The seats will fill. Soon