The WNBA hoped its 2025 Finals would mark a historic turning point for the league — a showcase of elite talent, passionate fanbases, and the culmination of a season filled with groundbreaking storylines. But as the Las Vegas Aces prepared to host the Phoenix Mercury in Game 1 of the Finals, the conversation took a humiliating turn. Instead of excitement over the matchup, the basketball world is now buzzing over something far less celebratory: shockingly low ticket prices that many see as a damning indictment of the league’s continued struggle to build mainstream appeal.

On the eve of the championship series, fans and media outlets began sharing screenshots of ticket listings that showed seats available for as little as $9 — a price that would barely buy a fast-food meal, let alone a seat at the most important game of the WNBA season. Premium lower-bowl seats that might cost hundreds or even thousands at an NBA Finals game were listed for under $30, with entire sections remaining unsold just hours before tipoff. For a league desperately trying to project growth and momentum, the optics could not be worse.

“This is the championship. This is supposed to be the biggest stage of women’s basketball,” one frustrated fan posted on social media. “Nine dollars? That’s embarrassing. It makes the league look like a joke.”

The numbers are especially painful when compared to other major sporting events. Tickets for Game 1 of the NBA Finals earlier this year averaged around $1,200 on resale markets, with even the cheapest upper-level seats surpassing $500. Even regular-season NFL games often command three-figure ticket prices. Yet here was the WNBA’s biggest night — with stars like A’ja Wilson, Diana Taurasi, and Brittney Griner on the court — struggling to convince fans to part with the price of a sandwich.

The ticket fiasco has reignited long-simmering debates about the league’s marketing strategies, fan engagement, and overall popularity. While the WNBA has made notable gains in recent years, including record-breaking viewership spikes and increased media attention, it still faces stubborn attendance and revenue challenges. Critics argue that the league has failed to capitalize on its rising profile, while supporters say systemic sexism and lack of investment continue to hold it back.

“This isn’t just about the ticket prices — it’s about perception,” said a veteran sports marketing analyst. “When the public sees Finals tickets going for less than $10, it reinforces the idea that the product isn’t valuable. That perception is hard to change, and it’s something the league has to confront head-on.”

The Aces, who are seeking their third consecutive WNBA title, have built one of the most dominant dynasties in women’s basketball. Led by two-time MVP A’ja Wilson and sharpshooter Kelsey Plum, Las Vegas has been a juggernaut on both ends of the court. The Mercury, meanwhile, entered the Finals as underdogs but remain one of the league’s most storied franchises, boasting a roster anchored by legends Diana Taurasi and Brittney Griner. On paper, the matchup promised a compelling clash of powerhouses and a showcase of elite-level talent.

Yet despite the star power on display, the buzz simply hasn’t materialized. Photos and videos from pre-Finals events showed sparse crowds and subdued energy, while secondary market platforms reported sluggish sales. Even promotions and steep discounts offered by ticketing partners failed to significantly move the needle. For a league trying to prove it belongs on the same stage as its male counterpart, the optics of empty seats on opening night could prove disastrous.

“It’s heartbreaking,” one longtime WNBA fan admitted. “These women are incredible athletes. They work just as hard as the men. But if the seats are empty during the Finals, people outside the sport are going to use that as proof that women’s basketball isn’t worth watching — and that’s just not true.”

Some analysts point to the location and timing of Game 1 as contributing factors. Las Vegas, while a thriving sports market, remains a relatively new home for professional basketball, and the city’s entertainment-saturated environment can make it challenging to compete for attention. Additionally, the league’s decision to schedule Game 1 on a Monday evening — competing with NFL Monday Night Football and Major League Baseball’s postseason — may have siphoned away casual sports fans.

Still, others argue the problem runs deeper. Despite increased investment from the NBA and corporate sponsors, the WNBA continues to struggle with visibility and public engagement. Television ratings, though improved, still lag far behind men’s sports, and media coverage remains inconsistent. Some believe the league’s marketing approach has failed to connect with broader audiences, relying too heavily on social causes and not enough on star power, rivalries, and storytelling.

“Fans connect with personalities, with drama, with narratives,” one sports media strategist explained. “The NBA didn’t explode in popularity because of press releases — it exploded because of Magic vs. Bird, because of Michael Jordan, because of rivalries that captured imaginations. The WNBA hasn’t fully figured out how to create that same cultural spark.”

The contrast between the league’s lofty ambitions and the reality of Game 1 ticket prices is especially stark given recent comments from league officials. Commissioner Cathy Engelbert has repeatedly touted the WNBA’s growth trajectory, highlighting record social media engagement, increased media rights deals, and expanding sponsorship portfolios. But for many fans, the sight of Finals tickets priced lower than a movie ticket undermines that narrative and raises uncomfortable questions about how much progress the league has truly made.

“This is supposed to be the pinnacle of women’s basketball, and yet it feels like the league is fighting just to get people in the building,” said one prominent sports columnist. “That’s not the story the WNBA wants heading into the Finals, but it’s the one they’re stuck with.”

Players, too, have expressed frustration over the lack of fan turnout and engagement. While most have refrained from commenting publicly on the ticket situation, several stars have spoken in recent months about the broader challenges of growing the league’s fan base. A’ja Wilson, in particular, has been outspoken about the need for more consistent support. “We can’t keep saying we want the WNBA to grow if people don’t show up,” Wilson said earlier this season. “It’s not just on the league. It’s on the fans, too.”

The ticket controversy has also reignited debates about salary disparities between the WNBA and NBA. With most WNBA players earning less in a year than NBA players make in a single game, many argue that poor attendance and revenue figures are used as justification for the status quo. Cambage’s recent comments urging players to seek income beyond basketball — including through platforms like OnlyFans — have only added fuel to the conversation.

“It’s a vicious cycle,” one former player explained. “People say players don’t deserve higher salaries because the league doesn’t make enough money. But the league doesn’t make enough money because people don’t buy tickets or watch games. At some point, something has to give.”

Despite the negative headlines, some within the league remain optimistic that the Finals can still deliver strong viewership and fan engagement. Television ratings for the WNBA have trended upward throughout the season, driven in part by rookies like Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese, whose college followings have helped inject new energy into the league. Even so, the disconnect between digital buzz and live attendance remains a major hurdle.

“The interest is there — we see it online, we see it on social media,” said one league executive. “The challenge is translating that into ticket sales and butts in seats. That’s the next frontier for us.”

For now, however, the narrative surrounding Game 1 of the WNBA Finals is less about basketball and more about the league’s ongoing struggle for mainstream relevance. The Aces and Mercury will still battle for the championship, and the players will still deliver elite performances. But the empty seats and bargain-basement ticket prices risk overshadowing the action on the court and giving critics more ammunition to question the league’s long-term viability.

“This should be a celebration of how far the WNBA has come,” one fan lamented. “Instead, it feels like a reminder of how far it still has to go.”

Whether this controversy becomes a footnote or a defining storyline of the 2025 Finals remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: if the WNBA wants to silence its doubters and elevate its brand, it cannot afford to have its biggest games marred by empty arenas and humiliating headlines. The league has fought for decades to prove its value. Nights like this show that the fight is far from over.