It all started with a simple, almost comical dispute over a box of shrimp. Sports journalist Rob Parker, annoyed that a restaurant worker was meticulously counting out his portion, demanded to know why he was only getting five shrimp for his nine dollars. The story, shared on-air, was meant to be a lighthearted gripe, but it quickly became the perfect, if unintentional, metaphor for one of the most contentious debates in modern sports: the fight for fair pay in the WNBA. Parker likened the players to himself, wanting more shrimp. But he argued the league simply doesn’t have enough shrimp to give.

His guest, acclaimed journalist and author Jemele Hill, agreed with the comparison but fiercely disagreed with the conclusion. In a masterclass of debate, Hill laid out a powerful case that the WNBA players aren’t just asking for more; they are entitled to it. The ensuing conversation cut through the noise, challenging the prevailing narrative that the WNBA is a struggling entity that cannot afford to pay its stars what they’re worth.

Parker, representing a common viewpoint, built his case on a seemingly straightforward financial reality. He pointed to reports that the league is projected to lose $40 million this year. He invoked the league’s history, colorfully stating that for 30 years they were “eating the government shrimp,” a jab suggesting the league has long been propped up by the NBA. He noted that despite the “Caitlin Clark effect,” many arenas still have swathes of empty seats. To Parker, the math is simple: you can’t demand a bigger salary from a business that’s in the red.

This is the story often told to the public—a narrative of a fledgling league, rich in talent but poor in profit. But Jemele Hill was there to “break it down so it forever can be broke.”

She started by pulling back the curtain on a time-honored tradition in professional sports negotiations. “What do owners always try to prove before or during any kind of labor [negotiation]?” she asked Parker, who, as a veteran journalist himself, knew the answer instantly: “They’re not making any money.”

Hill argued this is exactly what’s happening with the WNBA. The claim of losing money, she explained, is a strategic move designed to turn fans against the players and suppress salaries. To dismantle this narrative, she followed the real money. “If the WNBA is such a bad investment,” she queried, “how are there five teams being added by 2030? How is it that the Golden State Valkyries team valuation is $500 million? The New York Liberty is $423 million.” She continued, noting nine of the league’s 13 teams are valued at over $200 million. These aren’t the numbers of a failing business; they are the markers of an enterprise on the brink of a massive financial explosion.

The explosion is set to be ignited by a colossal $2.2 billion media rights deal starting next year. With that kind of money pouring in, Hill declared, “You damn right they want some more shrimp.”

The core of her argument centered on a single, staggering statistic: WNBA players currently receive only 9% of the league’s revenue. To put that in perspective, she pointed out that even in the UFC, a company notorious for its tight grip on fighter pay, athletes receive around 18% of the revenue. The women who are the product, the stars who draw the crowds and sell the jerseys, are getting a fraction of the income they generate. Hill argued that while a 50/50 split might not be the immediate goal, the current figure of 9% is indefensibly low.

To those who argue the league needs more time, she offered a history lesson. The NFL took 50 years to turn a profit. The NBA took 45 years. Yet, during those long, unprofitable decades, players in those leagues never stopped fighting for more pay, and they got it. In a stunning comparison, Hill noted that NBA legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was making more money in the early 1970s—when the NBA was widely considered a broken product—than the highest-paid WNBA player makes today, even as the WNBA is in a far healthier financial state than the NBA was back then.

Perhaps Hill’s most devastating point was her explanation of sports franchise finances. When Parker cited the league’s $40 million loss, Hill exposed it as a number that can be easily manipulated for public consumption and tax purposes. “Those books can look however they want them to look,” she stated. “The reason why billionaires are tearing ACLs to buy sports teams is because they are amazing tax shelters.” She brought up a stunning real-world example: in 2021, Los Angeles Clippers owner Steve Ballmer, worth over $130 billion, paid less in taxes than his star player, LeBron James. Why? Because Ballmer claimed the Clippers lost $700 million. “If it was such a terrible business,” Hill asked rhetorically, “do you think he’d still own the Clippers?”

The answer is a resounding no. The reported “loss” is an accounting strategy, not a reflection of a failing business. It’s a tool that allows the ultra-wealthy to offset gains from their other ventures while owning an asset that is appreciating in value at an astronomical rate.

Ultimately, Hill framed higher player pay not as an expense, but as a critical investment. Paying players a living wage that reflects their value keeps them from having to play overseas in the offseason, mitigating risks like the one that led to Brittney Griner’s detention in Russia. It allows the league to protect and market its greatest assets: the players themselves. For decades, these women built the league while sharing hotel rooms and flying commercial. They endured the lean years. Now that the boom is here, they are simply asking for their fair share of the feast they helped create. The question isn’t whether the league has enough shrimp. It’s about who gets to eat.