The Connecticut Sun are not leaving because fans disappeared—they’re leaving because the WNBA decided that loyalty now matters less than leverage.
The evidence is straightforward.
In 2025, the Sun sold out season tickets for the first time in franchise history. The team averaged its highest per-game attendance ever. Two regular-season games at TD Garden drew more than 19,000 fans each. For more than two decades, Connecticut has provided the WNBA with one of its most stable, community-rooted franchises.
That is not a failing market. It is a functioning one.
The Connecticut Sun lost to New York Liberty 87-78 at Mohegan Sun Arena on Sunday, Aug. 3. (Photo: Mark Maglio)
Yet ESPN now reports that Houston Rockets ownership is in “substantive talks” to buy the Sun and relocate the team to Houston. This follows months of uncertainty in which bids that would have kept the team in Connecticut—or moved it to Hartford—were effectively blocked by the league, despite offers exceeding $325 million and commitments to new facilities.
So what changed?
Not attendance.
Not fan engagement.
Not public support.
What changed is the league’s strategy.
Over the past several years, the WNBA has made its preference unmistakable: franchises owned by NBA ownership groups, operating in large media markets, with deep capital reserves and centralized governance. Since 2023, every new expansion franchise—Golden State, Portland, Toronto, Cleveland, Detroit and Philadelphia—has gone to a bid led by an NBA owner. There are no exceptions.
Houston fits that model perfectly.
When the Rockets ownership group fell short in the most recent expansion round—reportedly by at least $50 million—WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert publicly praised Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta as “a great supporter of the WNBA” and suggested the league would “stay tuned” on Houston’s future. Now, instead of awarding an expansion team, the league appears open to facilitating a relocation.
That distinction matters.
Expansion is competitive and slow. Relocation is controlled and immediate.
Connecticut did not lose its team in an open market. It was out-leveraged in a closed one.
Gov. Ned Lamont supported a proposal for the state to take a minority ownership stake. Hartford-based investors stepped forward. The Mohegan Tribe, which has owned the Sun since 2003, fielded multiple serious bids. None of that mattered without league approval.
ESPN has even reported that the WNBA itself discussed buying the franchise and moving it—an extraordinary detail that underscores where the real power resides.
Connecticut Sun sale in limbo as new report claims WNBA now wants to buy team, and for less money
Meanwhile, Sun fans did exactly what leagues ask fans to do.
According to a CT Insider survey conducted in August, nearly 89% of respondents said they would attend games if the team moved to Hartford, while more than 85% said they would be unlikely to travel to Boston. More than 63% said they’ve followed the Sun for roughly two decades.
These are not casual spectators. These are families who raised children in the stands, attended community events, volunteered, and built traditions around a franchise that became part of Connecticut’s identity.
Timing also matters.
The WNBA is negotiating a new collective bargaining agreement as player salaries are expected to rise dramatically. The players’ union has authorized a strike if necessary. Costs are increasing. Stakes are rising.
In moments like this, leagues consolidate power. They prefer owners with leverage, capital and alignment. NBA-linked ownership offers all three.
From a purely financial standpoint, the Mohegan Tribe faces a rational decision. Having purchased the franchise for approximately $10 million in 2003, the Sun are now valued north of $325 million. With rising operational costs and diminishing influence over league direction, selling becomes fiduciary responsibility—not betrayal.
But acknowledging that reality does not require rewriting history.
If the Sun leave Connecticut, it should not be framed as a failure of fan support or state commitment. It should be understood as the result of a league choosing a different ownership model—one that favors centralized power over regional loyalty.
That may be smart business.
But let’s be honest about the cost.
Connecticut didn’t abandon the Sun.
The WNBA abandoned the idea that performance and loyalty should still matter.
History should remember who showed up—and who ultimately decided that wasn’t enough.
Gregory Johnson is a Connecticut resident and longtime observer of the state’s sports and civic institutions.