When the spotlight turns to the WNBA, names like Caitlin Clark, A’ja Wilson, and Breanna Stewart dominate the headlines. But behind the scenes, a quieter and far more powerful figure has become one of the most talked-about — and controversial — influencers in the league’s modern era: Sue Bird.

The four-time WNBA champion and basketball legend may have retired from the court, but as insiders and fans are now realizing, her influence hasn’t gone anywhere. In fact, it may be stronger than ever.

What people are finally starting to talk about is Bird’s dual power — her simultaneous roles as a cultural icon, a businesswoman, and a figure with deep connections to players, coaches, media, and even WNBA leadership. While she’s long been celebrated as one of the most respected voices in the sport, recent discussions have exposed a growing unease over potential conflicts of interest involving her new ventures and her ongoing influence on the direction of women’s basketball.

After retiring in 2022, Bird didn’t fade into the background. She immediately took on multiple roles — from co-founding a media and production company called TOGETHXR, to investing in sports ownership groups, to working closely with brands that directly sponsor WNBA teams and players. On paper, that seems like a natural extension of her legacy.

But insiders have begun to whisper about how those overlapping interests might quietly shape narratives around the league, its players, and even how coverage and opportunities are distributed.

“No one talks about this,” said one anonymous former player in a recent online discussion. “But Sue Bird has her hands in everything — from media coverage to player branding to WNBA partnerships. If she likes you, your story gets pushed. If she doesn’t, you disappear.”

That claim might sound dramatic, but when you look closer at the structure of influence in women’s basketball, it isn’t far-fetched. Bird’s TOGETHXR platform partners directly with major brands like Nike, Google, and ESPN — the same corporations that dominate WNBA advertising. She’s also part of a power couple with U.S. soccer legend Megan Rapinoe, another outspoken advocate who has major corporate partnerships. Together, they’ve become symbols of progressive branding, but also, in the eyes of critics, gatekeepers of who gets amplified and who doesn’t.

This becomes even more complicated when discussing the Caitlin Clark effect. While Bird has praised Clark’s talent, some fans have noticed an underlying tension between Clark’s arrival and the “old guard” of WNBA icons.

Bird represents an era of athletes who fought for recognition before the league exploded in popularity, and Clark represents a new wave of players who brought instant fame, social media dominance, and unprecedented ratings. That generational clash has made some observers question whether figures like Bird are truly ready to embrace the league’s changing power dynamics.

In recent interviews, Bird has subtly pushed back on the media obsession with Clark. “I think we all need to be careful about how much pressure and spotlight gets put on one player,” she said in a podcast earlier this year.

While her words sound measured, many fans saw them as coded — a way of tempering Clark’s meteoric rise to preserve the balance of influence among veteran voices and WNBA institutions that Bird herself helped build.

But the concerns don’t stop with public perception. Some analysts have pointed out that Bird’s business connections might blur the line between advocacy and influence. For example, TOGETHXR produces promotional content about women’s sports, often featuring WNBA stars who share Bird’s social and political values — while others, who may not align as closely, receive little to no exposure. Critics argue this selective storytelling quietly shapes public opinion and sponsorship opportunities within the league.

Even more striking are Bird’s behind-the-scenes relationships with league executives. Reports have long indicated that Bird maintains close ties with WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert and several ownership groups — including those with partial investment from the same companies Bird works with. That’s led to speculation that her influence extends beyond media into policy conversations, from CBA negotiations to promotional campaigns.

“There’s this invisible hierarchy,” one WNBA staffer told an insider podcast. “You’ve got the league office, you’ve got owners, and then you’ve got Sue Bird — who’s not technically part of any of that but still manages to move mountains with a few phone calls.”

Fans online have picked up on this dynamic too. Some praise Bird for her leadership, saying her presence brings legitimacy and long-term vision to the league. Others, however, accuse her of gatekeeping — using her connections to maintain control over who gets access to the biggest media and sponsorship platforms.

On social media, you’ll even find threads accusing Bird of “protecting her circle” while sidelining emerging voices who don’t fit her preferred narrative.

Then there’s the cultural politics element. Bird’s advocacy for social causes has earned her immense respect — but it’s also polarized parts of the fanbase. When Clark entered the league and drew millions of new viewers, some fans noticed that legacy players and media allies of Bird were slower to embrace the phenomenon. “It’s almost like they wanted to remind everyone who built the house,” one analyst wrote. “But now someone else owns the crowd.”

This isn’t to say Bird’s intentions are malicious. Many argue she’s simply doing what powerful figures have always done in sports — leveraging influence to shape the future. But the difference now is visibility. With social media pulling back the curtain on how narratives are made, fans are more aware than ever of how interconnected the league’s ecosystem really is.

Still, Bird’s supporters insist her role is being unfairly scrutinized. They point out that her contributions to the sport — on and off the court — are unmatched. From winning championships to mentoring young athletes to advocating for fair pay and visibility, Bird’s track record of leadership speaks for itself. The question isn’t whether she deserves influence — it’s whether that influence has gone unchecked.

As the WNBA prepares for another explosive season, with stars like Clark, A’ja Wilson, and Breanna Stewart redefining what marketability looks like, the league stands at a crossroads. Figures like Sue Bird hold the institutional memory and cultural leverage that can guide the sport’s growth — but only if that power is used transparently and fairly.

The uncomfortable truth is that power in women’s sports has always been a delicate balance between visibility, control, and authenticity. And in the WNBA, few embody that paradox more completely than Sue Bird — a legend whose impact continues to ripple far beyond the court.

Whether she’s seen as a guiding force or a quiet power broker, one thing is clear: her legacy isn’t just about the games she won, but about the unseen influence she continues to wield in shaping what the league becomes next.