It was supposed to be a statement game. The Indiana Fever were without Caitlin Clark, leaving the Chicago Sky with a golden opportunity to shine. Instead, they suffered one of the most humiliating defeats in recent WNBA history—a 79–52 loss that turned heads for all the wrong reasons. And at the center of it all was Angel Reese, a player once touted as the future of the league, now under fire for a shocking performance and an even more baffling response: shifting the blame to her coach.

Let’s not sugarcoat it. Scoring 52 points in a professional basketball game is embarrassing. It was the lowest output by any WNBA team since 2011. For context, some of the fans in the stands weren’t even born the last time the Chicago Sky looked this bad offensively.

But this wasn’t just about poor shooting or a lack of execution. This was about identity—or the lack of one. The Sky had no rhythm, no leadership, and no fight. Against a team missing its best player, the Sky didn’t just lose. They folded.

Angel Reese’s Night to Forget

All eyes were on Angel Reese to step up. With Clark out, this was her chance to silence doubters and take over the spotlight. Instead, she delivered one of the worst performances of her young career: 4 points on 2-for-7 shooting, 12 rebounds, 3 turnovers, and a team-worst -20 plus/minus in 26 minutes.

Reese’s defenders often praise her rebounding ability—and fair enough, she hit the glass. But when you’re billed as the next big thing, you need to bring more than boards. You need impact. You need leadership. You need production.

And what did she bring instead? Excuses.

Blame Game Begins: Coach Under Fire

Despite her dreadful statline, Reese wasn’t the one taking the heat in the media afterward. That honor fell to head coach Tyler Marsh.

Fans flooded social media calling for his firing. Analysts questioned his offensive schemes. Talking heads blasted his in-game adjustments. It seemed like the WNBA world had chosen its scapegoat—and it wasn’t the player who shot under 30% and disappeared in the game’s biggest moments.

But is Marsh really the problem?

Not according to Candace Parker, one of the WNBA’s all-time greats. She once called Marsh “one of the best coaches I’ve ever played for,” crediting him with helping transform Jackie Young into an elite scorer. Marsh’s reputation as a developer of talent and basketball IQ is well-earned. So why is he now being treated like the weak link?

The Accountability Gap

The answer is as complicated as it is frustrating. There’s a growing sense that Angel Reese is being shielded from criticism—protected by media narratives, her vocal fanbase, and the brand she’s carefully cultivated. But here’s the reality: if another high-profile player had dropped a statline that miserable, they’d be eviscerated by the same people now blaming Marsh.

Instead, some fans went so far as to compare Reese to Dennis Rodman or Andre Drummond. But even that’s a stretch. Rodman was a lockdown defender and a game-changer. Drummond, for all his flaws, could score with consistency. Reese hasn’t reached that level yet—and on nights like this, she doesn’t look close.

Fashion Over Fundamentals?

Adding to the criticism is the perception that Reese’s priorities are skewed. Her pregame outfits generate more headlines than her box scores. Her Instagram is filled with lifestyle posts, sponsorships, and brand promotions—but her on-court growth seems to be stalling.

During the Fever game, she wore a flashy winter-themed outfit that drew comparisons to American Gangster’s infamous fur coat scene. Fans joked she brought the fashion but left her game at home—and it didn’t feel entirely wrong.

Of course, athletes can care about style. But when your stats tank and your team gets blown out, optics matter. And right now, those optics aren’t doing Reese any favors.

A Cautionary Tale in the Making?

The truth is, Angel Reese has talent. You don’t dominate at LSU and earn national attention without serious skill. But the WNBA is a different beast. It’s not about college hype. It’s about production. And through the first stretch of her professional career, the results haven’t matched the noise.

Reese still has time to turn things around. Many greats have stumbled early. But if she wants to avoid becoming a cautionary tale—a player known more for potential and personality than performance—she needs to put in the work and let her game lead the conversation.

That starts with accepting accountability.

No more blaming the coach. No more hiding behind branding. No more missed layups with a smirk.

The WNBA doesn’t need another influencer. It needs leaders. If Reese wants to be the face of the franchise, she needs to act like it. Because at this rate, she risks becoming a punchline instead of a powerhouse.