'Look at my stats,' Sophie Cunningham urged reporters on Saturday night, in the depths of the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York. 'I don't know why people think this is such a big distraction.'

The Indiana Fever star was, of course, referring to the political firestorm she ignited in July with her comments on 'protecting young girls' in women's sports, sending the WNBA spiralling into a vicious feud over the eligibility of queer athletes in the league.

While Cunningham doesn't think the national outrage is affecting her game for the league as a whole, that claim doesn't stand true.

The unprecedented growth and talent the WNBA has witnessed over the past three seasons is currently at risk of being swallowed up by the same culture wars plaguing the broader political landscape.

The WNBA is on the verge of destruction – and it's partly an inside job. If the league doesn't act soon, it risks drowning in toxicity of its own making.

As Cunningham brushed off the latest inflammatory narrative to engulf the WNBA before tip-off against the New York Liberty on Saturday, outside Barclays Center turmoil was brewing again.

Lining the entrance to the Brooklyn arena, rival protests dueled over the barricades under the watchful eye of the NYPD.

One man barged into the midst of the pro-queer rally and vowed to declare for the WNBA Draft. Campaigners blew whistles in his face and retaliated with chants of '[queer] kids belong,' before officers escorted him away.

Young girls wearing Caitlin Clark's No 22 Fever jersey were shepherded past the warring protestors by anxious parents, desperate to get their daughters to the safety of the arena ahead of the game.

At what point do those worried parents decide the risk is no longer worth taking their kids, the lifeblood of the game? At what point does any true basketball fan decide their love for the sport no longer outweighs navigating the political spectrum? How long until the WNBA's inaction alienates millions of fans on both sides of the divide?

When does the outside noise reach such volumes that the WNBA and its on-court action become drowned out completely?

The answer could be sooner than we think.

Rarely has one player, who averages a mere eight points per game, been so singled out. Cunningham was booed by the Liberty fans every time she had possession, her name jeered when called for a foul.

Yet, despite the venomous deluge of spats and infighting that has dragged the WNBA down, Cunningham views the uproar as a positive.

'You have a lot of new fans, not only just watching, but coming to games and seeing the environment and seeing the talent,' Cunningham said before Fever's loss on Saturday. 'I think anytime you can get more eyes on the W, that's an awesome thing.'

She is wrong. There may be more eyes on the WNBA than ever, but there is also more toxicity and controversy than ever.

Saturday's demonstration wasn't an anomaly. Protestors also clashed ahead of the Fever's games against the Dallas Wings and Toronto Tempo earlier this month.

A mother and daughter were threatened with ejection from Indiana's clash against the Atlanta Dream after security told them their pro-women t-shirts were 'offensive.'

Seattle Storm co-owner Celeste Keaton was suspended from attending five home games after an expletive-laden courtside spat with two young female Cunningham supporters, who proudly brandished a sign declaring their support for her views.

That animosity reached fever pitch on Sunday night when Enes Kanter Freedom, the former NBA player who declared for the WNBA Draft, attended the Fever's clash against the Chicago Sky.

The provocateur was ejected after a courtside confrontation with Sky star Natasha Cloud, who launched into a furious tirade at Kanter as she was dragged away by security and teammates.

The vitriol around Cunningham's comments has become so emphatic that the player's name has reportedly been banned on the WNBA subreddit, where the league's forum won't allow the words 'Cunningham,' 'Sophie,' 'sc,' 'scunningham,' 'soph,' or 'sophiacunningham.'

Cunningham was also involved in a physical ambush, too. She was struck in the face by Chicago Sky player DiJonai Carrington while trying to reach for the ball in a game in early August. Carrington was ejected for her act of violence before blaming the decision on 'white privilege.'

Despite Cunningham describing her own politics as somewhere in the middle, she has been branded 'MAGA Barbie' of the league after endorsements from Vice President JD Vance and former White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt.

Meanwhile, Minnesota Lynx head coach Cheryl Reeve led the charge against Cunningham, wearing a T-shirt that read, '[Queer] Kids Belong' shortly after her now infamous ESPN interview.

If Reeve hoped for a combative impact against Cunningham's comments, it backfired. Kanter revealed the coach's message cemented his decision to declare for the WNBA in his provocative stand against the league's eligibility.

'I was watching this game and I believe the coach of Minnesota [Cheryl Reeve] came out with a '[queer] kids belong' [shirt],' he told Lara Trump on Fox News. 'So I was like, if there's no rule against this, if all the coaches are okay with it, think about how much money I can bring, all the endorsement deals.'

Kanter and fellow former NBA star Royce White's draft declarations are nothing more than a crude prank. A provocation that is making an open mockery of the WNBA, shredding its credibility as one of the most high-profile women's sports leagues in the world and belittling female athletes.

Kanter's shocking explosive midgame bust-up with Cloud was reduced to a mere punchline. 'Appalled' Lieutenant Governor of Indiana Micah Beckwith joked there was 'no place for this type of woman-on-woman violence.' Imagine the NFL, NBA, MLB or NHL facing the same ridicule.

'They are exposing how vulnerable this league is right now,' Amy Sousa, an organizing member of XX-XY Athletics, told the Daily Mail during Saturday's protest. 'They're vulnerable to any man. We think the league is leaving itself very vulnerable to infiltration by any man who says that he's a woman.'

It begs the question: Where is Cathy Engelbert in all of this? Her league is teetering on civil war and the WNBA's commissioner has gone to ground.

While the taskforce of WNBA chiefs stated earlier this month that there 'are no immediate eligibility matters' affecting the league, Engelbert herself has only spoken out once publicly on the issue.

The embattled commissioner accused people of 'trying to use the league to sow divisiveness.' She was not wrong. But it was not sufficient.

Engelbert has guided the league into its most financially stable era, thanks to its historic Collective Bargaining Agreement, a massive 11-year, $2.2billion TV deal, and record viewing figures.

But her handling, or lack thereof, of this situation has seen the league descend into culture wars with both sides of the debates losing confidence in her leadership.

Cunningham certainly doesn't think she'll be in a job this time next year. And even her detractors agree with her.

The WNBA has become a political punching bag, and it only has itself to blame.

Cunningham wasn't wrong when she said more eyes were watching. But she was when she claimed it was a positive thing.

If the WNBA doesn't act to diffuse the ticking time bomb of its self-implosion, there won't be any league left to watch.