In a move that has sent shockwaves through the world of professional sports, retired WNBA star Liz Cambage has ignited a firestorm of controversy with her recent, and refreshingly blunt, advice to current players: embrace your femininity, leverage your sexuality, and don’t be afraid to turn to platforms like OnlyFans to secure your financial future. The four-time All-Star, who famously left the Los Angeles Sparks in 2022, has been unapologetically vocal about her own success on the subscription-based platform, claiming to have earned more from her online content than she ever did during her celebrated basketball career.

“You know the WNBA salary, it’s not hard to make more money doing anything,” Cambage stated in a recent interview with TMZ Sports. “I feel like women got to make more money playing the sport they love. I think everyone has got to get it how they can.” Her words, delivered with a mix of defiance and pragmaticism, have resonated with many who see the glaring disparity between the immense talent on the court and the modest paychecks the players receive.

The timing of Cambage’s comments could not be more poignant. The WNBA is currently on a collision course with its players’ union over the collective bargaining agreement (CBA), and the issue of player compensation is at the forefront of the negotiations. The arrival of the 2024 rookie class, led by the phenom Caitlin Clark, has thrown the league’s pay structure into sharp relief. Clark, with her record-breaking college career and massive endorsement deals, is reportedly earning significantly more from her off-court partnerships than from her rookie contract, which is a relatively paltry $76,000.

This stark reality has prompted players like Minnesota Lynx star Napheesa Collier to become more vocal in their demands for better pay. Collier recently called out WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert, bringing much-needed attention to the financial struggles that many players face. It is within this charged atmosphere that Cambage’s advice, however controversial, has found a receptive audience.

Cambage’s suggestion is not merely a flippant remark; it is a direct challenge to the traditional norms of women’s sports. She encourages players to “lean into their feminine side” and to see their sexuality as a powerful asset, not something to be hidden or ashamed of. “I feel like back in the day, there wasn’t an opportunity or a space for women to be who they are,” she explained. “But now I feel like women being more girly are earning their sexuality more and it’s fun.”

This perspective has been echoed by some commentators who argue that the WNBA has long struggled with a “massive marketing miss.” The host of the “Black and White Sports” YouTube channel, where Cambage’s comments were recently discussed, argued that the league “greatly suffers from not taking advantage and encouraging these women to truly embrace being beautiful women.” He pointed to the popularity of players like Sophie Cunningham, a guard for the Phoenix Mercury, as evidence that there is a significant audience for players who are not afraid to embrace their femininity.

Cunningham, who the host described as a “beautiful woman,” is reportedly one of the most searched-for players in the league, despite having been a sixth woman for a large portion of the season. Her success in marketing and her strong fan base suggest that there is a powerful synergy between athletic prowess and feminine appeal. As the host bluntly put it, “women get men to want to watch sports. It’s a thing. We act like it’s not, supposed to hide around it, be all politically correct. Nah, not on this channel we don’t.”

However, Cambage’s advice is not without its detractors. Critics argue that suggesting players turn to platforms like OnlyFans sends a dangerous message, reducing talented athletes to their physical appearance and reinforcing the sexualization of female athletes. They contend that the focus should be on fighting for better salaries and improved working conditions within the league, not on encouraging players to seek alternative, and often exploitative, sources of income.

The debate also touches on a more sensitive, and often unspoken, issue within the WNBA: the league’s culture and its relationship with traditional notions of femininity. The “Black and White Sports” host made the explosive claim that the league “has bullied people out of the league for for not being lesbian,” and that there is a “huge problem” with the league’s perceived lack of acceptance for heterosexual, feminine women. While these are serious and unverified allegations, they speak to a broader perception that the WNBA has not always been a welcoming space for all expressions of female identity.

This complex and emotionally charged issue has left many fans and players divided. Is Liz Cambage a trailblazer, a pragmatist who is simply offering a realistic solution to a long-standing problem? Or is she a provocateur who is undermining the fight for equality and respect in women’s sports? The answer likely lies somewhere in between.

What is undeniable is that Cambage has started a conversation that the WNBA can no longer afford to ignore. The league is at a critical juncture, and the decisions it makes in the coming months will have a profound impact on its future. The players are more united and more vocal than ever before, and they are no longer willing to accept the status quo. They are demanding to be paid what they are worth, and they are not afraid to explore unconventional avenues to achieve their financial goals.

Whether or not more players will follow in Cambage’s footsteps remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the conversation around money, marketing, and femininity in the WNBA has been irrevocably changed. The league can either embrace this new reality and find a way to better support its players, or it can risk losing some of its brightest stars to more lucrative, and perhaps more liberating, opportunities. The ball is now in the WNBA’s court, and the world is watching to see how it will play.