She walked onto the court like it was her moment. Angel Reese smiled at the cameras, slapped her chest after the anthem, and raised her arms to the crowd as if daring them not to rise.
But the crowd didn’t.
And the cameras didn’t stay.
From the first possession, something was off. Chicago Sky looked scattered. Reese looked eager—too eager. She clapped aggressively after missed shots. She shouted after drawing a foul. She glanced toward the jumbotron after every play, waiting for the recognition.
What she got was silence.
And standing across from her, Napheesa Collier never said a word.
No gestures. No smiles. No looks. Just basketball.
And what unfolded next wasn’t a highlight reel. It was a reminder.
Napheesa Collier didn’t shut down Angel Reese with trash talk. She didn’t mock her or bait her or out-celebrate her.
She erased her.
Play by play. Step by step.
With defense so tight and scoring so clean it felt surgical.
And Reese? She tried.
She called for the ball. She pointed to the sky. She turned to the fans.
But the fans weren’t turning back.
The first quarter ended with Collier dropping a turnaround jumper that sent the Lynx up by 9. Reese clapped again. But no one followed.
By halftime, Minnesota led by 17. Reese had one field goal.
And the only clip circulating on X showed her waving at the crowd—while the camera panned away to Collier walking silently to the bench.
