In the high-stakes poker game of professional sports negotiations, you never show your hand until you are ready to win. The WNBA Players Union thought they held a royal flush: “Unrivaled,” a player-owned, 3-on-3 league designed to showcase their independence, generate revenue, and prove they didn’t need the WNBA machinery to survive. It was the ultimate leverage play—a backup plan that screamed, “We have options.”
But as the latest TV ratings roll in, that royal flush has turned into a pair of twos. The numbers are not just bad; they are catastrophic. And with every viewer that tunes out, the players’ bargaining power evaporates, handing a sweeping victory to the very owners they tried to pressure.

The Promise That Fizzled
When Unrivaled launched, the ambition was intoxicating. Founded by stars for stars, it promised a revolution: higher salaries, equity stakes for players, and a product that would keep the momentum of women’s basketball alive during the off-season. It was pitched as a fast-paced, modern alternative that would capitalize on the explosive growth of the women’s game.
The debut weekend seemed to validate the hype, drawing nearly 313,000 viewers. It wasn’t Super Bowl numbers, but for a startup league, it was a respectable foothold. Analysts were optimistic. Fans were curious. The narrative was set: The players are building something of their own.
Then, the reality set in.
The Brutal Numbers
The drop-off wasn’t a slide; it was a cliff. Recent reports indicate that viewership for subsequent games has plummeted to an average of 175,000 or fewer. In the world of cable television, these are numbers that get shows cancelled.
To put this in perspective, WNBA regular-season games are now routinely drawing over a million viewers, with playoff games peaking at 2.5 million. Unrivaled is pulling in a fraction of that audience. The message being sent to networks, sponsors, and most importantly, the WNBA Board of Governors, is brutal: Without the WNBA brand and its specific marketing machine, these numbers don’t hold up.
“Ratings are the lifeblood of professional sports,” one analyst noted. “Without them, a league struggles to justify its value. Unrivaled’s audience is a small fraction of the WNBA’s.”

The Leverage Nightmare
This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. The WNBA and the Players Union are currently locked in a tense standoff over the new Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA). The players opted out of the current deal, demanding higher salaries, better travel conditions, and a bigger slice of the revenue pie.
Their strategy hinged on the threat of the alternative. If the WNBA didn’t pay up, the players could theoretically focus on Unrivaled. But for that threat to be credible, the alternative has to be successful.
With Unrivaled’s ratings in freefall, the WNBA owners are likely looking at the data and smiling. They know now that the “backup plan” is not a financial lifeboat—it’s a sinking ship. The owners can now sit back, wait, and dictate terms, knowing that the players need the WNBA far more than they let on. The bluff has been called.
Why Did It Fail?
Experts point to a “perfect storm” of miscalculations. First, the format. While 3-on-3 is exciting, it lacks the strategic depth and traditional flow of the 5-on-5 game that fans have grown to love. It feels less like a premier league and more like an exhibition.
Second, the scheduling. Airing games on weekday afternoons or inconsistent time slots is a death sentence for building a habit-forming audience. You can’t build a fanbase if they can’t find you.
But perhaps the biggest issue is the “star power” paradox. Yes, Unrivaled has stars. But it lacks the tribal loyalty of city-based teams. In the WNBA, fans root for the Indiana Fever or the Chicago Sky as much as they root for the players. In a touring or studio-based league, that connection is severed. Furthermore, the “Caitlin Clark Effect” that lifted the WNBA to new heights is noticeably absent here. While the league features incredible talent, it hasn’t captured the lightning-in-a-bottle cultural moment that the WNBA rode in 2024.

The Road Ahead
The collapse of Unrivaled’s viewership is a harsh lesson in the economics of sports. It proves that talent alone isn’t enough; you need infrastructure, marketing, tradition, and a format that resonates with the mass market.
For the players, the immediate future is daunting. They may have to return to the negotiating table with a weaker hand, accepting a deal that is good, but perhaps not the revolutionary shift they hoped for. The dream of total independence has collided with the hard wall of market reality.
Unrivaled isn’t dead yet—leagues can adapt and recover. But the damage to the Union’s current leverage is done. In the battle for the future of women’s basketball, the scoreboard currently reads: Owners 1, Players 0. And it was the fans, by simply changing the channel, who decided the winner.