The Dawn of Unrivaled: a New Women’s Three-on-Three Basketball League

The perfect companion to the WNBA where Black women shine

A new day breaks for women's basketball with Unrivaled, a three-on-three league. Image credit: Spencer Lind

There’s something electric about being there at the beginning — about witnessing something special, just as it starts to take flight. It was like catching an artist's concert right before they blew up. Before they headline. Before their songs were streamed millions of times. You knew. I knew when I saw Kendrick and Cole. Ye on the campus of University of Cincinnati at a free concert. And I felt lucky to know. That’s what it was like watching the semifinals and finals of Unrivaled, the new women’s three-on-three basketball league. 

What makes Unrivaled even more critical – and honestly, revolutionary – is how it refuses to separate excellence from ethics. Women, especially Black women, have always had to be twice as good while being told to be half as loud. Not here.

Unrivaled isn’t just a good idea. It’s the perfect companion to the WNBA. It gives fans even more of what they want: access to elite talent, a product centered around player creativity and individuality and a league that honors the players as the stars – not as side notes to the business. It’s basketball, but it’s also culture. It’s TikTok’s and tunnel fits for the gram. It’s sport, and it’s also a statement. It’s everything women’s basketball fans deserve and have been waiting for. 

From the jump, the Unrivaled fan experience has been marvelous. The energy is different. It’s intimate without feeling small. Every seat is close to the action. You’re not just watching the game; you’re living inside it. It’s buzzer beaters, dimes, crossovers and blocks – all with the kind of communal energy that feels gives more family reunion vibes than corporate event. Fans didn’t just show up. They showed out: fits repping their favorite players and teams, creating an atmosphere that matched the intensity on the court. It was beautiful. 

And let’s be real. Part of what makes Unrivaled so incredible is that it’s women led. When women are in charge, things get done right – not perfect, but right. In its first season, Unrivaled proved you can increase profit without being extractive toward the people doing the work. Players were prioritized. Coaches were valued. Staff were respected. Every decision seemed to ask: How do we build something excellent and equitable? It wasn’t about choosing one or the other. It was about refusing to compromise. 

The results? Ridiculous.  

The profits and revenue from season one were mind blowing. Not because anyone cut corners or sold out, but because when you build something the right way, people want to be part of it. Sponsors showed up in full force. They didn’t just slap logos on courts and call it a day. They activated. They invested. They collaborated. They treated the league like a rising stock, not a charity case. And fans? Fans rallied around Unrivaled like it had been around for years. Season tickets. Merch lines. Social media buzz that couldn’t be faked if you tried. When you treat the project – and the people – with respect, you don’t have to beg for attention. You earn loyalty. 

Miami was the perfect place to kick things off. The city’s energy matched the league’s vibe – diverse, alive, a little flashy, but all heart. Miami embraced Unrivaled like a local treasure. It wasn’t just a backdrop; it was a co-star. But as much as Miami felt like home, the league’s future demands expansion. Growth across the country isn’t just inevitable; it’s necessary. The energy Unrivaled sparked in Miami is too big to be contained. It needs to spread to cities ready to love this league as fiercely as Miami did. Growth won’t be easy, but it can be a boon, not a burden, if it’s done with the same thoughtfulness that built season one. What makes Unrivaled even more critical – and honestly, revolutionary – is how it refuses to separate excellence from ethics. Women, especially Black women, have always had to be twice as good while being told to be half as loud. Not here. Unrivaled sets the bar for excellence sky-high and demands the moral compass stay intact the whole way. It’s a league that understands success isn’t just about revenue sheets and TV ratings. It’s about dignity. It’s about creating something future generations can inherit without shame. 

Representation matters too. The coaches in Unrivaled reflected the players they coached – a rare and necessary thing in professional sports. Black women were seen. Black women were trusted. Black women were leading. And fittingly, it was a Black woman head coach who won the inaugural Unrivaled championship – something that, unbelievably, has still never happened in the WNBA. In 28 years of the WNBA, no Black woman has coached a team to a championship. Unrivaled didn’t wait for history to catch up. It made history.  

There’s a different kind of magic when something is built by people who understand the assignment because they’ve lived it. You could feel it in the games. You could feel it in the way players interacted with fans and each other. You could feel it in the closing moments of the championship – players, coaches, and fans all laughing, shouting, and celebrating together. The labor of love had manifested so that everyone won.  

Unrivaled isn’t a spin-off. It’s not a side hustle. It’s not extra credit. It’s a movement. It’s a companion to the WNBA, not because it mirrors it, but because it complements it, adding more rhythm, heart and space for women athletes to be fully themselves. 

And if you were lucky enough to witness any of season one up close, you already know: this is just the beginning. The artists are about to go platinum. The stage is only getting bigger. And the world is about to discover what the real ones already know.