Beyond the Basket - Paige Bueckers

part 35 - impulsive hearts

Monday May 19, 2025

Paige POV

The regular season just started, and already it feels like the stakes couldn't be higher. This isn't preseason anymore, where mistakes don't feel like the end of the world. Now, everything counts. And we just lost our first game. My first game in the WNBA. To the Sparks.

The Sparks. A team with so much history and experience, and we're... well, we're the new kids. An expansion team trying to prove we belong. And tonight? We didn't. It was like they walked all over us, reminding us exactly what it means to play at this level. Last season, they finished last in the league, but tonight, they came out with a vengeance and beat us by double digits.

It's not like we didn't expect them to be better this season—they've got their veterans back from injury, and their roster is a lot deeper now. But still, it hurts. A lot. We wanted to make a statement, to show the league that just because we're a new team doesn't mean we're a team to be taken lightly. Instead, we got a reality check.

I couldn't find my rhythm all night. It's like the game was happening faster than I was. I've never felt that way before, not in high school, not in college. Every shot I took felt forced, every pass felt just a little off, like the pressure of my first WNBA game was sitting on my shoulders and I couldn't shake it. The Sparks knew exactly what they were doing. Their defense was relentless, closing in on me before I could even get comfortable with the ball. I thought I was prepared for this level, but out there, I felt like a rookie in every sense of the word.

In the locker room after the game, the air was thick with disappointment. We all felt it. Nobody had to say it out loud, but it was there, hanging over us. We wanted to come out strong, to prove that we could compete with anyone, even the veterans. But tonight, we just weren't good enough.

I sit down in front of my locker, still replaying every mistake in my head. The turnovers, the missed shots, the moments where I hesitated instead of trusting my instincts. I know it's just one game, but it feels like more than that. It feels like the start of something, like the league's already decided who we are—and we haven't even shown them who we could be.

Coach didn't say much. She didn't have to. We know we have a lot to figure out. The chemistry, the pace, how we play together—it's all still coming together. We're a new team, and that's part of the challenge. We don't have the years of experience that teams like the Sparks do. We're still figuring out how to play as one. But tonight made it clear that we've got a long road ahead of us if we're going to make any noise in this league.

I'm not going to lie—it's hard not to let doubt creep in. I've been dreaming of this moment for as long as I can remember, but now that I'm here, it feels different. Harder. More real. But I know this is just the beginning. It's one game. We'll learn. We'll adjust. We'll get better.

We have to.

I head to my hotel room in LA, my body still aching from the game and my mind replaying every missed shot, every mistake. I'm sharing a room with Dorka, and we're both quiet as we take the team bus back. Normally, we'd be chatting or laughing about something—Dorka's always good at making me loosen up—but tonight's different. The silence between us feels heavy, the kind that comes after a tough loss.

I lean my head against the cool window of the bus, watching the bright lights of LA blur together outside. The hum of the city is in the background, but it feels distant. Like I'm in my own world, stuck reliving every second of the game. I keep thinking about how we let it slip away. How I let it slip away. My first game in the WNBA, and it's not at all how I imagined it. Instead of walking off the court feeling on top of the world, I'm sinking into a pit of disappointment.