Life Inside the Wubble
Alysha Clark
Most WNBA fans embrace the idea of the “bubble” because it has allowed our season to proceed in a COVID-free environment. As players, we appreciate the benefits offered by this arrangement, but after spending the 2020 season in the Bradenton, Fla. bubble I understand now that seclusion in the name of basketball takes its toll emotionally and spiritually.
Eight straight weeks of the same routine has worn on me and plenty of other WNBA players. I’m grateful that my team, the Seattle Storm, had the best record in the league when the playoffs started in mid-September, that we have been able to perform our best every time we take the court. But the monotony, and the feeling of being trapped with no way to take a break from the grind, is tough for all of us.
We have a routine in here, but I haven’t been able to establish the normal spiritual rhythms that keep me close to God. During this strange time, I find myself more reliant than ever on my network of Christian mentors, many of whom are also part of the WNBA, and all of whom pray for me and encourage me regularly. Those mentors include Tanisha Wright, a former Storm teammate of mine who now works as an assistant coach for the Las Vegas Aces, who took me under her wing spiritually when I was a rookie in 2012. For a full year Tanisha committed to studying the Bible with me, connecting with me as we sought to understand the scriptures we read and praying for me daily, even when she was playing in Turkey and I was playing in Israel. Her intentionality in our friendship changed my life.
Even if the disciplines of growing in my faith have been hard to establish in the bubble, I’m grateful that this environment has given me new platforms to make a stand against racial injustice and other important social issues. The WNBA has encouraged us to take a stand, even when it meant sitting out a game in late August for a day of reflection after the Kenosha, Wisc. police shot Jacob Blake. And I believe that Christian players like me should be bold and vocal about speaking out.
My pastor has a term for people who profess Christ but aren’t comfortable fighting for the poor and the oppressed—“churchy people.” I have seen plenty of churchy people who are more consumed with the “rules” of their faith than the “relationship,” while I have become convinced that Christ in me compels me should to join in protests against police brutality and other injustices. I believe it’s the very thing Jesus would do. God is the one who urges us to give a voice to the voiceless and help those who can't help themselves—the poor, the widows, the orphans.
I’ve come into my own faith as an adult, and I’m still learning and growing, I struggle when I see people who claim to love God with all of their heart, but they seem to spend most of their energy hating others, bashing them and putting them down because they don’t agree with a stand that they take. It gets discouraging at times, and it sends me back to my spiritual mentors, my prayer circle, so that they can get me grounded again in what is really true and Biblical.
When I speak against injustice, I feel like I’m living into God’s calling for my life. We don’t have the option to stay silent; when we take off our uniforms, between 70 and 80 percent of the women who play in the WNBA are living the reality of systemic racism every day of our lives. And if we fail to take a stand, I believe we’re ignoring the real reason that God gave us this platform in the first place. I feel like I’m just getting started advocating for those who can’t advocate for themselves, and when the season ends and we exit the bubble I’ll be looking for more opportunities to come to the table and push for change.
Lyon, the French team that I’ve played for during the past two WNBA off seasons has already offered me a contract to return, so I will head back to start my next overseas season, but not right away. I’m grateful that Lyon is giving me some needed time to decompress, remind myself what it’s like to step away from basketball for a while, and fan the flames of this spark we have been able to ignite by using our voices—even from within a bubble.