🏀 The Late Night Host of Women’s Basketball

The new WNBA collective bargaining agreement is monumental. It signals leverage, stability, and an overdue acknowledgment that women’s basketball is not a charity project or a “nice to have” — it’s a product people show up for, pay for, and build culture around. For many players, especially those without huge brand deals, the CBA is a map: clearer pathways to security, benefits, and a future that doesn’t require offseason travel, risking injury and burnout just to stay afloat financially.

But for some veteran players, the CBA is not the only option — and it may not even be the best one. Sydney Colson is a good example of what happens when the league finally starts to catch up to a player’s value just as that player has already expanded beyond the league’s boundaries.

The question isn’t “Why would a player walk away when they now have a chance to make more money than ever?” The question is: “What does ‘historic’ mean to someone who already has other options?”

A landmark CBA raises the floor: higher minimum salaries, stronger worker protections, better structures for health and longevity. That is essential, and it changes what the next generation can demand. But veterans — particularly those who have already sacrificed seasons, bodies, and personal life for a league still building its infrastructure — may evaluate this moment differently. A better deal inside the league doesn’t automatically outperform what a player can earn or build outside of it, especially if the other opportunities offer:

There’s a soft truth that rarely makes it into sports commentary: sometimes the most rational decision isn’t the one that maximizes legacy points. Sometimes it’s the one that maximizes happiness.

For someone like Syd, the WNBA can be one lane, but it’s not the entire highway. Syd has never been just a box score. The public version of Syd has always been bigger than minutes played: the comedic timing, the locker room gravity, the ability to turn a sideline moment into a viral clip without ever feeling like she’s trying too hard. In a league that now asks players to be both athletes and entertainers, she has long been fluent in both — and that fluency has translated into a sizeable and valuable audience.

Part of what makes Syd’s transition feel believable is that she’s already been living adjacent to “post-playing” life in real time. When the Syd + TP show aired, it didn’t just deliver laughs; it proved there was a market for seeing WNBA players off the court. It showed that a personality-driven unscripted queer show is not a side dish in women’s sports; it’s a very attractive entry point. If we’re being honest, the Syd + TP show walked so that the Studbudz could run.

Syd Colson has a platform that holds up even when she’s not playing. The league is no longer the sole container for relevance. It has become one of several stages and platforms for players. The 2025 WNBA All-Star Weekend in July was a great example of the growth of Syd Colson’s personal brand. This was a huge opportunity for revenue, fan engagement, and visibility for a player who wasn’t on the court. She co-hosted a live show of Unsupervised, co-hosted the Orange Carpet, and did her first-ever stand-up comedy set at Fever Fest. When Syd tore her ACL a few short weeks later in August, it felt like she transitioned to hosting her podcast full-time fairly seamlessly right after the surgery. She and her long-time collaborator picked up right where they left off, but this time, with an even longer runway for Syd’s availability.

Syd appears to have a full life — friendships that anchor her, a relationship that looks serious, and a public identity that isn’t dependent on being rostered. This matters because the “return to the league” decision often assumes that playing is the default. Tina Charles didn’t seem to think so (although I had already spent her max contract money on my plan for our first date). And while TP’s absence from the league hasn’t resulted in a formal retirement announcement, she also doesn’t seem to have any urgency or interest in returning. Syd has gotten a front-row seat to many of the people she came into the league with and played alongside for years as they move into the next phase of their lives and careers. I wouldn’t be surprised if she felt confident that now was the time she should do the same.

For veterans of the league, not only was the CBA built on their labor in growing the game, but their futures were shaped by the young stars who elevated the importance of media and coaching. Playing is now one option among many: coaching, public speaking, sports commentary and broadcasting, producing, podcasting, acting, filmmaking, brand partnerships, writing, hosting, and creative development for sports brands. The league offers security, but life outside of the league offers expansion, and it’s easy to see why a veteran may choose expansion after an injury.

The title has a nice ring to it. Alongside Run-A-Muck co-founder Jennifer Beals, Syd Colson is the executive producer of a new movie titled Courtside. The movie will feature TP (no brainer) and Gabby Williams, everyone’s favorite Black American-French player (not up for debate, sorry). Movies have had an incredible role in the storyline of women’s sports, from Juwanna Mann to Love + Basketball, and it’s nice to see that continue to be the case while interest in women’s basketball is growing with every game.

We may need to broaden how we talk about success in women’s basketball. A historic CBA is a win, but it’s also a sign that the ecosystem is finally maturing enough for players to build multi-lane careers without apology before they decide to hang up their jersey.

For some, that will mean staying and even playing in new women’s basketball leagues. For others, like Sydney Colson, it may mean leaving at exactly the right time. Not because the league isn’t good enough, but because their life is already bigger than the league’s old limits.