WNBA corrections

For years, the WNBA had been living in two timelines at once: one defined by accelerating relevance, and the other by a compensation system that lagged stubbornly behind it. The numbers told the story: The league was breaking attendance and viewership marks, but still operating under a salary structure that rendered even its brightest stars conspicuously underpaid. With the new collective bargaining agreement (CBA) set to run through the next decade, however, it gets to adjust the scale in its favor.

Consider the immediate shift. The salary cap is projected to jump from roughly $1.5 million to $7 million, a staggering leap that signals both growth and intent. Average salaries are expected to rise to around $600,000, with minimum pay climbing past $300,000. Meanwhile, at the top end are supermax contracts worth about $1.4 million. All told, these are figures that, until recently, would have seemed aspirational at best. And these are structural realignments, anchored most notably by a revenue-sharing model that ties player earnings more directly to the league’s expanding fortunes.

To be sure, the most telling provisions are those that seem to have escaped notice. Lost amid the headline figures is a more consequential acknowledgment of the WNBA’s past obligations. The new CBA is said to include enhanced retirement benefits and even one-time payments to former players, all of whom helped prop up the league during its formative years. And, in a sense, these may be the most overdue corrections. After all, growth is rarely linear; it is layered atop the sacrifices of those who came earlier, often without the benefit of hindsight or leverage.

There are other pluses embedded in the agreement. Expanded rosters, improved travel conditions, and guaranteed housing speak to an organization intent on professionalizing not just its economics, but its ecosystem. The introduction of mechanisms such as early renegotiation for standout young players reflects a recognition of a new reality: Talent now arrives polished and, therefore, marketable, and the league needs to be nimble enough to take advantage. Needless to say, the correction includes the stretching of the calendar, with the longer season an implicit bet that demand will continue to meet supply.

Still, it would be a mistake to view the agreement as an endpoint; if anything, it formalizes a new baseline from which future tensions will inevitably emerge. Revenue sharing, while groundbreaking in this context, remains a negotiated percentage; it is far from absolute parity. The league’s cost structure, expansion ambitions, and uneven market performance will keep testing the durability of the new arrangement.

The good news is that, in the calm before the impending storm, the principle that players are stakeholders in growth has been settled; they are not merely beneficiaries. Which is why the deal ultimately lands with a sense of finality, not because it addresses every issue, but because it resolves the most fundamental one. The league has chosen to align its structure with its trajectory. And in so doing, it has altered not just the terms of employment, but the terms of belief: burnished by progress, anchored in recognition, and, for the first time, commensurate with the game it now sustains.