The world of professional sports has always been a theater of the unpredictable, but for Indiana Fever’s Sophie Cunningham, recent events have crossed into the realm of the absurd. One minute, she’s at the free-throw line, locked into a crucial game moment. The next, she’s leaping back in shock, having been struck by a flying projectile that turned out to be, of all things, a dildo. This single, bizarre incident, later rumored to be an elaborate “crypto prank,” has become a symbol of the wild, high-pressure new era of the WNBA, with Cunningham standing directly at its chaotic epicenter.

Speaking on her podcast, Show Me Something, with co-host West Wilson, Cunningham recounted the surreal moment. “I felt something kind of hit my foot and I thought it was just like someone kicked me,” she explained. “I looked down and it was a dildo and it like scared me. I like jumped up.” The sheer unexpectedness of it all broke her concentration, leaving her laughing in disbelief while her coach tried to regain her attention. What made the story even stranger were the whispers that followed. “It was a crypto thing,” Cunningham said, explaining a rumor that a company was hired to perform the stunt as a bizarre marketing ploy.

This wasn’t just a one-off event. The initial prank seemed to inspire copycats, leaving Cunningham to wonder what might come flying out of the stands next. “Throw a Big Mac,” she joked, exasperated. “Throw something that like is more fun. Not a dildo.” The incident highlighted the strange new reality for athletes in the spotlight, where viral fame can manifest in the most intrusive and unexpected ways.

This external chaos served as a bizarre backdrop to the intense internal pressure building within the Fever’s locker room. The team was hit with a catastrophic wave of injuries that wiped out their backcourt in a single game. Their starting point guard went down with a broken foot, and moments later, their backup tore her ACL. The team was in crisis, and with no one else to turn to, the ball was put in Sophie Cunningham’s hands. A career shooting guard was suddenly the team’s primary ball-handler.

She was candid about her limitations in the new role. “Keep it simple and keep it clean. Do nothing that is too crazy,” she said of her strategy. Her game plan was one of pure survival: “I’m either getting a screen or I’m pushing off of you. I’m either fouling or someone’s helping me get open.” This trial by fire, learning a new position on the fly in the world’s most competitive league, added yet another layer of stress to her already tumultuous season.

That pressure cooker finally boiled over during a razor-thin, one-point loss. After the game, Cunningham didn’t hold back her frustration with the officiating, specifically concerning rookie phenom Paige Bueckers. While she made a point to praise Bueckers as a “hell of a player,” she accused the referees of giving the rookie preferential treatment all night long.

“Those refs were giving her every freaking whistle last night,” Cunningham stated bluntly. “Like you literally couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t touch her. And that that shit is so annoying to me.” Her complaint centered on what she saw as “player focused” whistles, arguing that a rookie shouldn’t be getting the benefit of every call. “To get the treatment she got last night was crazy,” she added, giving voice to a controversial opinion that many athletes feel but few are willing to say so publicly.

This eruption of frustration didn’t happen in a vacuum. It came on the heels of another emotionally charged showdown with her former team, the Phoenix Mercury. Cunningham admitted that her own comments on a previous podcast, where she suggested the organization could have handled certain matters more “professionally,” had fueled the fire. “Hell yeah. A thousand percent,” she said when asked if her words caused the on-court chippiness.

The game in Phoenix became a personal battle. After receiving cheers during her introduction, the mood turned as soon as she started hitting shots and talking trash. The cheers quickly became boos, an atmosphere Cunningham thrives on. “I’m okay with boos,” she declared. “I think that that’s competitive. That’s fun… I guess some people are too soft for that.” She left Phoenix with a narrow loss but with the satisfaction of having met the fire head-on.

Between the dildo-wielding pranksters, the devastating injuries, the feud with her old team, and the controversial officiating, Sophie Cunningham’s season has been a whirlwind of high-stakes drama. She is an athlete navigating a landscape where professional pressure is amplified by social media chaos and unprecedented media attention. Through it all, her unapologetic, fiery personality remains her constant. She refuses to be silent, whether facing down old rivals or calling out what she perceives as injustice. In this wild new chapter for professional women’s basketball, Cunningham is not just a player; she’s a lightning rod, and her story is far from over.