Don’t Tell My Wife

By Joseph Catena

Shhhhhhhh. I have a secret to share, and I don’t want anyone else to know, especially my wife. So let’s keep this between us, OK?

I have a new celebrity crush, and this one’s a keeper.

I know. I know. I said that about the last two, and neither worked out. But how was I supposed to know that Kristi Noem would off her dog with a shotgun and Pam Bondi would have such difficulty putting anyone behind bars? So, I lived and learned. And my new girl brings a whole different vibe to the scene.

I am ga ga (not for Stefani Germanotta, heaven forbid) over WNBA Indiana Fever star Sophie Cunningham.

Before you have any preconceived notions, I feel the need to explain. First, I am not a superficial guy, so this has nothing to do with looks. It has nothing to do with her flowing blonde ponytail that bounces ever so gently as she glides down the court, her long legs gracefully transporting her from one end to the other, with the ease of a gazelle. It also has nothing to do with her beautiful pearly smile, and it certainly has zero to do with that straight-from-central casting, girl-next-door face that can endorse any product and, unlike Dylan Mulvaney, score a windfall of profits.

To be honest, I hardly even noticed these amazing attributes until someone pointed them out to me. My crush is steeped in her engaging charm and common sense.

Most of all, I’m in love with her bravado.

Sophie is undoubtedly the beautiful long-stemmed rose growing out of the rancid manure pile, otherwise known as the WNBA.

When she made a simple statement about women having the ability to feel safe without contending with creatures sporting XY chromosomes and five o’clock shadows, you would have thought that her fellow stars throughout the league would have applauded her and screamed out collective chants of “Amen sister!” Instead, she was treated as though she shouted the N-word in the middle of an NAACP convention while donning some Jimmy Kimmel blackface.

This exposes the true mission and purpose of the WNBA. It is a DEI league that has floundered for years and only exists because of the National Basketball Association’s vast subsidies. Furthermore, the majority of WNBA players give the appearance of an enraged mob of angry lesbian brutes with gang mentality. They reacted to Sophie’s matter-of-fact proclamation with derision and hatred. Instead of promoting women’s sports and female greatness, these wildebeests are more focused on paralyzing the league’s superior talent, Caitlin Clark, Sophie’s Indiana teammate. The opposition has choked her, poked her eyes, punched her while she was down, and continuously hammer her with flagrant fouls. One can only assume that racism, sexism, and jealousy are what drives these malcontents.

So, what does Sophie do? She fights back and uses cerebral tactics, like what she did to the Phoenix franchise’s very unladylike DeWanna Bonner. After some back-and-forth trash talking, Sophie glued her eyes to Bonner, gave her a cold stare, raised her long lithe arm and pointed a finger at her. She maintained her position for what seemed like an eternity, even as officials and teammates separated them and Bonner went bonkers.

Viral jackpot!

Upon witnessing this, my eyes turned to hearts and my actual heartbeat went rapid fire inside my chest. That happened to be the first night we met (even though she still doesn’t know that), and I immediately did a Google search to learn everything I could about this superhero.

Sophie Cunningham has become an icon because she represents everything good about America, and everything the WNBA is not. She smiles a lot, plays hard, defends her teammates, and has fun off the court, whether it is being a spontaneous ring card girl at an MMA event, or climbing onto the bar at Clayton’s Country Bar in Indianapolis and joining the band in singing Toby Keith’s famous patriotic tune, “Courtesy of the Red, White & Blue.” A regular all-American girl havin’ some fun while absorbing the local nightlife. Unlike fellow XX chromosome bearer, Kamala Harris, Sophie truly brings joy to her campaign.

What’s not to adore? The woman is fun, fearless, and full of freedom. Amazingly, the league she plays in rejects her despite the love shown to her by the fan base. Her own head coach, Stephanie White, didn’t even defend her when Sophie spoke out against men playing in women’s sports. Disgrazia!

Back to my crush. It is so powerful that I might do something I haven’t done in 34 years; buy a sports jersey. Dallas Cowboy quarterback Troy Aikman’s number 8 jersey might get trumped by Sophie’s Indiana Fever 8. I might also do something else I’ve never done in my life: watch a WNBA game, provided it’s Indiana of course. If I do, I’ll have to look for her number to find her on the TV screen.

Please recall what I said earlier, I’m a little fuzzy on her looks. I already told you, they weren’t the reason for my initial attraction to her. I do wonder, however, if they match her sexy, brave persona. If so, my wife might be wondering why I bought a one-way ticket to Indiana.

Remember, this is just between us.