What began as a simple gesture of support at a WNBA game turned into a racialized storm of online hate. The target? Not a player, but a mother — and the photo that exposed a deepening divide in the league’s cultural identity.

She was just another proud mom in the crowd. Gwendolyn Loyd, mother of Las Vegas Aces star Jewell Loyd, has attended dozens of games, cheered from the stands, posed for photos, and celebrated the women growing the WNBA.

But when she recently posted a smiling photo with Indiana Fever guard Sophie Cunningham — a player she met courtside at a game — all hell broke loose.

The caption was innocent enough:

“When you run into Miss Sophie Cunningham.”

The photo went viral — and not in the way she expected. Over 340,000 views, hundreds of replies. But instead of applause, Gwendolyn was bombarded with vitriol. The online abuse came quickly, most of it rooted in one explosive accusation: how dare a Black woman pose with her?

From Applause to Accusations

Sophie Cunningham, one of the most talked-about players in the league following her hard-nosed defense of Caitlin Clark during a controversial game against the Connecticut Sun, has become a polarizing figure.

To some, she’s a gritty competitor, a Missouri native who stands up for her teammates and plays with fire. To others, she’s been labeled with dog whistles: “entitled,” “aggressive,” even “racist”—though none of these accusations have ever been substantiated by any incident or evidence.

And yet, by simply standing next to her, Gwendolyn became a target.

One comment read, “You lucky she didn’t call you the hard R and spit on you.”
Another: “This is what happens when you support MAGA Thug Barbie.”
Others mocked her appearance, her integrity, and her daughter.

It was racialized, gendered harassment — and it didn’t come from opposing fanbases. It came from within the WNBA’s own circle.

A Mother’s Calm Amid the Storm

Rather than respond with anger, Gwendolyn did what she always does — she stood firm.

“It’s amazing how many hits I got when I posted that picture,” she wrote. “Use that same energy to vote my baby into the All-Star Game.”

When others accused her of “selling out,” she replied with quiet clarity:

“I take pictures with all WNBA players. I don’t entertain ignorance.”

And she’s right. Scroll through her social media and you’ll find dozens of photos with players — from legends like Cheryl Miller to rising stars. Her track record is one of unity, not division.

But this time, a simple moment — a kind exchange with a player — became a Rorschach test for a fractured audience.

What This Really Reveals

The incident is about far more than a photograph. It’s about what that photo represents in a league increasingly caught between competing narratives — about race, identity, and who “belongs.”

Sophie Cunningham has never claimed to be more than what she is: a scrappy player who loves the game. She hasn’t run political campaigns, made controversial public statements, or disrespected her peers. But for many, her whiteness, proximity to Caitlin Clark, and unapologetic playing style have made her a lightning rod.

And that lightning struck Gwendolyn Loyd — for doing nothing but smiling beside her.

A Warning Sign for the League

If the WNBA wants to grow — truly grow — it cannot allow its most loyal supporters to be attacked for supporting the league.

When a mother of a Black All-Star is labeled a traitor for standing next to a white player, we’re no longer talking about sports. We’re talking about a cultural breakdown.

The WNBA prides itself on inclusion, but inclusion doesn’t work if it only flows one way. Gwendolyn Loyd didn’t “choose sides.” She chose the sport. She chose joy. She chose unity. And for that, she was vilified.

What happens next matters. Because if fans — especially parents — begin to feel that any expression of goodwill could trigger a social media ambush, the message is clear:

This league isn’t safe. Not yet.

In a world that desperately needs more people like Gwendolyn Loyd — mothers who show up, cheer loud, and support everyone — we should be thanking her. Not attacking her.