The WNBA has attracted grifters who care little for basketball – and whose latest stunt exposes the hollowness of their supposed concern

I regret to inform you that yet another dildo has hit a WNBA court. The Chicago Sky v Golden State Valkyries game was sullied by sex toys being chucked on to the playing surface on Friday. Aren’t we tired of all this yet? To paraphrase the Sky’s Natasha Cloud, it takes a lot of effort to bother with such a juvenile act.

This is yet another controversy for the WNBA, a league that up until a few years ago, most media observers ignored. The WNBA is full of incredibly talented players and has a rich history, but most sports fans treated all but ignored it for the majority of its 30-year existence. But when Caitlin Clark went pro, the league surged. Ratings, attendance, and interest exploded. But not all attention is good attention.

Capitalism and the climate crisis are conspiring to destroy the concept of seasons. I’ll take solace in my pumpkin spice

Happy spooky season, everyone! Get those jack-o’-lanterns out, because Halloween is just around the corner!

Just kidding, no, it’s not.

I understand gen Z’s concerns about the cost of romance. But anything can be a date if you want it to be

A couple of months ago, I wrote a column imploring young people to keep trying to find love, to not become cynical about romance and avoid the temptation of the accursed “loneliness influencers” peddling antisocial behavior as some sort of newfangled experiment that no one had thought of before. I stand here today saying, hey, I can’t be right all the time. Maybe it is better to be alone, since it costs a hell of a lot less.

Apparently, young people across the country are forgoing dating because it’s too damn expensive. Or at least, I think they are, based on the multiple newspaper articles saying so that came out in the last two weeks. As the New York Times put it, the “prospect of a tab of $150 or more for two entrées, two drinks, an appetizer and tip” is too pricey for many gen Z singles. I say, only $150? Where are you going, Chili’s? I went on a date with (shameful brag incoming) a very famous political figure from the late 90s and spent twice that amount, sending my bank account into cardiac arrest. I practically begged her to get dessert, even though it was clear our decade of age difference and general lack of chemistry meant I was better off going home and journaling about it. I paid for the whole thing, and in return, I got an amazing story to tell at parties.