Grief, acceptance and how to make sense of the Minnesota Lynx

Less than one year ago, the Minnesota Lynx staggered onto busses leaving Barclays Center in Brooklyn, defeated by just five points in Game 5 of the WNBA Finals by the New York Liberty. Disappointment was shrouded by restlessness; minutes after the season’s end, Napheesa Collier and company were itching for a chance at revenge.

This year, disappointment stands alone. The Lynx look vulnerable, not fearsome. Feelings of unjustness from their 2025 curtain call will not be easily cleansed. The well-rehearsed cycle of sports misery has been fractured. The Lynx, at least in the public eye, were not bested by a team nor a player. They were bested by a league. A system. An institution.

The final stage of grief is acceptance, which gracefully cascades down into denial, bargaining, anger and depression. The Lynx have many well-spoken veterans who haven’t let negative emotions sour their outward-facing comments. But this is not about them. This is about the Lynx faithful, and the fans outraged over slow-motion replays.

I won’t dwell on whether or not Collier was fouled by Alyssa Thomas when the latter effectively ended Minnesota’s championship campaign. Rather than voicing my opinion on the call, I’ll reiterate a harsh truth about those who audit officiating: A basketball player is not inherently awarded a foul when they are clipped on the shoulder, hit by a stray leg or even intentionally punched by an opponent gone haywire. A basketball player is only, and I mean only, awarded a foul when a ref blows their whistle and declares that a foul has occurred. As obtuse and frustrating as that may seem, or as annoyed as you are at me for saying it, that is the reality that you must live to find acceptance as a grieving fan.

I’ll briefly touch on Collier’s postseason comments towards the end of this article, but to be subjectively transparent, I disliked how she paired comments about CBA negotiations and the disconnect between players and league leadership with comments about officiating. The CBA and league leadership are tangible issues that are genuinely threatening the future of the league. Collier absolutely has the right to demand more accountability in officiating, but claiming that it has reached “levels of inconsistency that plague [women’s basketball] and undermine the integrity in which it operates” is a bridge that I’m not willing to cross. There is no level of basketball in which players are content with officiating. There are tens of thousands of points of physical contact in every basketball game, and it is impossible for a three-person officiating crew to make every call with perfect accuracy. I’m in no position to make objective claims about whether WNBA officiating is generally better or worse than NCAA and NBA officiating, but I will not go as far as to say that it is undermining the integrity of the sport.

Another reality in the Lynx’s reflection is that of their own shortcomings. When you play poorly enough to induce a 50/50 situation with a game on the line, you welcome the reality that the situation may not go your way. Upon losing, you must accept that you did not lose because of the outcome of the situation itself, but instead because you allowed the situation to occur in the first place. Collier’s injury was not a “controllable.” Blowing a 20-point lead in Game 2, allowing Phoenix to tie the series, was a controllable. Going down four points with less than 30 seconds left in Game 3 was a controllable. Knowing not to risk suspension with an elimination game imminent, as the league’s longest-tenured head coach, was a controllable.

Minnesota has earned the right to be frustrated at how their season ended. But they dug their own grave.

The Lynx aren’t going anywhere

As is ubiquitous throughout the league, all of Minnesota’s non-rookie contract players will be free agents this upcoming offseason. Players intentionally aligned their contracts to expire with the previous CBA so that their next deals reflect pay scale changes. For Minnesota’s veteran group, 11 of their 13 players will become free agents.

The Lynx, after consecutive 30-win seasons, are an attractive destination and won’t have trouble resigning players who they consider part of their core. At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter who wears the Minnesota Lynx jersey. If Cheryl Reeve is on the sideline, players will be playing with purpose, and they will be in contention. Reeve herself had high praise for her group’s resiliency in the season’s waning moments: “I’m proud of us. No, we didn’t reach our goal… we’ll certainly have plenty of time to dive into all the ways that we can improve. [But] today, I feel immensely proud of our team.”

There is nothing to be ashamed of in a 34-win regular season. Sometimes playoff series’ don’t go your way. Great teams will forever be at the mercy of injuries in the postseason. Great teams will find ways to fight, which certainly held true for Minnesota. With or without new faces, expect Minnesota back in the mix in 2026.

Collier’s comments on the flimsiness of league leadership are much more important than anything that happened on the court for the Lynx this season. Her manifesto against Cathy Englebert speaks volumes to the failure of league leadership to build a mutually beneficial relationship with their players. Players make leagues, not vice versa. Player empowerment should always be at the forefront of league policies.

Unrivaled has dissolved much of the negotiating leverage previously held by the WNBA. The W can no longer force players to agree to an unfavorable deal, taunting them with their lack of stateside alternatives. While Unrivaled can’t quickly replace the WNBA because of a lack of location-based teams and nation-wide physical infrastructure, they can give players a periodical opportunity to play in their home country amidst a potential lockout. Collier, a founder of Unrivaled, knew she had a responsibility to speak out against the WNBA and their predatory CBA negotiations.

In the following months, Collier will bear a new leadership role. Still the head of the Lynx pack, she’s inheriting a more important position as the voice of a league. A symphony of players have taken their time to express solidarity with Collier, and it can only be hoped that their support turns into parallel action. The future of the Minnesota Lynx will only be prioritized once the future of the WNBA itself is in good hands. Until then, Collier will need the continued support of fans, media and players alike as she challenges the league’s government.