In one of the most blistering takedowns seen on sports television this season, ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith unloaded on Chicago Sky forward Angel Reese, calling out her self-proclaimed Michael Jordan comparison as not only premature—but downright delusional.
It all started when J. Hill claimed that by the time Reese retires, she would be “the Michael Jordan of the WNBA.” That bold declaration ignited a storm, but it wasn’t until Smith responded that the real firestorm began. With his signature blend of theatrical delivery and unforgiving realism, Smith made it clear: Angel Reese is not Jordan. She’s not even in Caitlin Clark’s league—literally or figuratively.
The numbers back him up. During the Sky’s recent 93–58 blowout loss to the Indiana Fever, Reese managed just four points. Meanwhile, Caitlin Clark sat on the bench nursing an injury and still dominated the headlines. That contrast—the one player injured but irreplaceable, the other healthy but invisible—perfectly encapsulates the growing gap between hype and production in the WNBA.
Reese did pull down 12 rebounds, but as Smith and many fans have noted, rebounds without scoring are just empty calories. It’s effort with no execution. Reese’s shooting has been abysmal. Her stats read more like a blooper reel than an all-star campaign—20 blocks against her, only 21 made field goals. If rebounds were currency, she’d be a millionaire. But in professional basketball, scoring still pays the bills.
The WNBA has long fought for media attention and increased viewership. Enter Caitlin Clark—the most talked-about rookie since Diana Taurasi. Her games are sellouts. Her jerseys fly off shelves. Her highlights dominate social media. She’s singlehandedly boosting WNBA ticket sales and television ratings, becoming one of the most searched female athletes on Google.
In contrast, Reese’s on-court contributions have failed to match her pre-game outfits or social media clout. Even fans who were rooting for her are now growing skeptical. Her inefficiency is glaring, and her refusal—or inability—to evolve is starting to feel like a liability rather than a long-term asset.
Reese’s defenders point to her hustle, her college dominance at LSU, and her high rebound totals. But Smith wasn’t buying it. “It’s not a rivalry when you’re losing by 35,” he said. “You can’t call yourself a star if you disappear when it matters.” Clark may be sidelined, but her presence still casts a long shadow—one that Reese can’t seem to escape.
Clark, who was the unanimous No.1 pick in the 2024 WNBA draft, has played just 50 games but already tied for the third-most triple-doubles in league history. She elevates teammates, makes clutch plays, and shows up even when defenses double-team her all game. When she plays, people watch. When Reese plays? Increasingly, they cringe.
Making things worse are the off-court tensions and growing rumors of locker room discontent. Reese’s public comments have often walked a fine line between confidence and arrogance. Fans and analysts alike are beginning to question if she’s more focused on maintaining the Bayou Barbie brand than refining her game.
Then there’s the race narrative some have tried to attach to the Clark-Reese rivalry. But Smith dismantled that too, saying this isn’t about color—it’s about consistency, performance, and who’s delivering when it counts. “There have been plenty of incredible Black women in the WNBA who never got this kind of attention,” he said. “Angel Reese got the spotlight and now needs to earn it.”
The league is watching closely. The Chicago Sky invested in Reese as a franchise cornerstone. But if her production doesn’t improve fast, they may be forced to reconsider. Front offices won’t wait forever. The WNBA doesn’t hand out all-star ballots for potential. This isn’t college. It’s business.
Meanwhile, Caitlin Clark isn’t just surviving the pressure—she’s thriving in it. Injured or not, her name trends. Her face is plastered on ESPN, sports blogs, and prime-time debates. She’s already being called the Jackie Robinson of the WNBA for being the first white female player to break into superstar status at this level. Whether that comparison holds or not, her impact is undeniable.
If Angel Reese doesn’t adjust her game soon—adding reliable scoring, better efficiency, and actual leadership—the league will move on. The WNBA is hungry for stars who deliver, not just decorate the sidelines. Reese risks becoming a cautionary tale: a viral sensation who fizzled out once the real game began.
In a sport where every minute counts, Reese has to prove that she belongs—not in marketing reels, but in matchups that matter. She doesn’t need to be the next Jordan. But right now, she needs to be more than a rebounder with great nails.
The story isn’t over. But the next chapter is crucial. Either Angel Reese finds her rhythm or finds herself benched—by coaches, by fans, and by a league that has no time for wasted potential.
