FOR TWO YEARS, Haley Jones reserved a drawer for her Atlanta Dream gear. In a span of 16 days, she cleared out two more drawers for two more teams. Julie Vanloo sped across 3,000 miles to sit and wait for a job offer she might never get. Shyanne Sellers -- she knows it sounds awful -- felt a twinge of hope when she saw somebody get hurt. Seven words from a basketball icon -- You're not ready for the league yet -- haunted Harmoni Turner. Diamond DeShields felt mocked by her own juicer that barely had time to juice.
Five players. Twenty transactions. Seventeen states. Four countries. Eighty-six days. This is life on the fringe of the WNBA.
JONES STANDS JUST beyond the 3-point line and watches as her former teammates on the Atlanta Dream smother one of her new teammates on the Dallas Wings.
There's 3:42 to go in the July 30 game, and Dallas is down 76-74 with six seconds on the shot clock. Wings veteran Arike Ogunbowale manages to find an opening in the Dream's defense and kicks the ball out to Jones, but the pass is high and it slips through her fingers. Jones retrieves it near the logo with three seconds left on the shot clock. She whips around. She barely has time to recenter herself. She squats and launches.
The ball arches across nearly half the court and lands squarely inside the net. Paige Bueckers, standing underneath the hoop, punches her right fist in the air to celebrate her new teammate's good fortune and the Wings' one-point lead. Jones laughs out loud. It's her 10th game with the Wings, the eighth since she signed her rest-of-season contract 21 days earlier. In 31 minutes, she scored 12 points on 5-of-8 shooting and added three assists and three rebounds, but the Wings fell 88-85.
Still, social media erupted with comments about how the Dream made a huge mistake when they waived the sixth overall pick in the 2023 draft right before the 2025 season.
Atlanta was the only home Jones had known since she graduated from Stanford and moved out of the Bay Area. She'd settled in Atlanta with her partner, who had taken a job there to live with her. She'd even bought an investment property in the city. She was looking forward to expanding her role during her third season with the Dream.
Then, on the second-to-last day of training camp, Jones became the last player on the team to be waived. Over the next 56 days, she flew from Atlanta back home to the Bay Area, then to Phoenix, then back home, then to Dallas and then back home before returning to Dallas again. She lived in four states, pingponged some 7,000 miles between homes, played on three teams and found herself unemployed three times.
"That was a roller coaster, what?" Jones said, dragging the word "what" almost like she's shocked by the amount of change she's been through in a matter of months.
Wild as it sounds, Jones' journey isn't all that unique.
The WNBA consists of 13 teams. Each team -- according to the CBA -- can have a maximum of 12 players, meaning a playing workforce of 156 at most. In 2025, 38 players were drafted into the league that had 151 returning players. Econ 101: the supply is greater than the demand. Most years, fewer than half of the draftees land a roster spot for opening day. In 2025, 20 draftees made it until opening day, up from 13 of 36 in 2024. In 2023, it was 15. Unlike the NBA, which allows teams to carry 15 players, the WNBA doesn't have a minor league system or a developmental league. So players who are released are often unmoored, unemployed and unhappy.
But here's the thing: roster spots regularly open up in the WNBA -- sometimes even shortly before the playoffs -- because the CBA mandates that teams carry a minimum of 11 players. Injuries and player commitments to national teams create regular opportunities for employment, a carrot for players on the fringe. Think of it as temp work that comes with a quandary. Should players on the league's fringe wait around hoping to get another shot? Should they abandon their WNBA aspirations, maybe even their basketball dreams altogether? Get another job? And if they opt to stick it out, where do they live? Who do they train with? And how can they pay their bills? Not to mention the biggest question of all: Will they ever be good enough to secure a steady job in the WNBA?
"You feel shock, you feel embarrassment," Jones said. "And then it's a lot of life you gotta figure out."
FIRST THINGS FIRST, DeShields thought. How do I get home? And, should I take my juicer?
Don't blame DeShields for being a bit scattered after she was released by the Connecticut Sun on May 15. She's a former league All-Star, a former WNBA champion. And she didn't see the shoe that was about to drop.
"Everything was about me having a leadership role and being one of the vets on the team," said DeShields, who had signed a one-year contract with the Sun in February.
Her face, she said, was plastered all over the Mohegan Sun walls. She had shot promo videos with the team just days earlier. Every conversation revolved around her long-term progress with the team, she said.
Then she was called in and let go.
In a career that has been full of notable moments, this was a first. She was the third overall pick in the 2018 draft. She was named a WNBA All-Star in 2019. Later that year, she was diagnosed with a benign tumor in her spinal cord. She underwent a nine-hour surgery and had to learn how to walk again. She made it back to the league for 13 games in 2020. In 2021, she helped the Chicago Sky win the franchise's first championship. Now, after a minor ankle sprain that had hampered her during training camp, she was unemployed. And soon to be evicted.
DeShields sat on her bed in the apartment the Sun had provided for her and took stock of her space. Her juicer, her workout equipment, her many, many bags of clothes she'd carefully arranged in what she thought would be her home for the next year stared at her as though they were mocking her.
She called an Uber. She needed to get to a rental car lot so she could find a car that could carry all of her stuff 1,000 miles back to Atlanta. The Sun, she said, offered her a coach ticket back home, which is mandated in the CBA, but wouldn't cover all her shipping expenses.
"The team will ship three to five boxes," she said. "But I have more than three to five boxes worth of stuff."
I need to pack up and drive back home.
The trouble was, she couldn't find anything to drive. The first rental place didn't have a vehicle big enough. Ditto at the second and the third and the fourth.
Dejected, she sat outside her final stop and recorded a video. "Getting waived is crazy, because what do you do after you get waived?" she asks, looking this way and that way but never directly at the camera.
She posted the video on Instagram, hoping somebody could help her find a way out of her predicament. Then she reached out to the Sun, who connected her to a rental car company they had a partnership with.
"In my mind, I'm like, 'Well, that would have just been much easier to know from the jump,'" DeShields said.
Thankfully, they had a truck that would do the trick. For the next several hours she packed up her apartment and squeezed it into her rental. Early the next morning, she drove 15 hours south to Atlanta, only stopping to take restroom and meal breaks.
When she arrived back home, a to-do list began to take form.
IN HER NINTH game with the expansion Golden State Valkyries this season, Vanloo dished out eight assists in an eight-point win over the Los Angeles Sparks. After that June 9 game, the second-year WNBA player flew overseas to play for Belgium in the FIBA Women's EuroBasket tournament. Vanloo helped lead Belgium to its second straight title and then skipped the celebrations and got on a plane to rejoin her Valkyries teammates in America. On June 30, an hour after landing in California, the Valkyries waived her. Wish I had known that a day ago, Vanloo thought.
She didn't have a home and she didn't wallow in the what-ifs. She called her agent, who told her there was a chance the Sparks could have a roster spot for her. She didn't sit around and wait.
Vanloo bought a ticket (with her own money), packed a suitcase and got on a plane to New York because the Sparks were playing the Liberty in Brooklyn on July 3.
"If I have to pay for a flight and go to New York, fly all night to be there and be ready, I'll do it," Vanloo said.
She arrived at Barclays Center early -- she worried she would get stuck in traffic and be late for a job she didn't even have -- and sat outside the entrance for two hours all in the hopes that the Sparks might call. She pulled out her cell phone and watched the time tick away until 5 p.m., when her two-day waiver timeline would elapse.
Her agent called her shortly after 5 and told her that Sparks general manager Raegan Pebley was on her way to get her.
"Welcome to the Sparks," Pebley said.
A wave of happiness and relief flooded Vanloo. Her past four days flashed in front of her eyes: the gold medal, the waiver, the doubt and now the new opportunity.
Two hours later, she was suited up and on the Barclays floor and played two minutes.
Then she flew to Indiana with the team for its July 5 game against the Indiana Fever. She entered the game with 1:53 to go in the first quarter. Forty-six seconds later, she rattled in a 3-pointer from the wing, her first points for the Sparks.
She returned to California, this time to L.A., and moved into her team-assigned apartment. In many ways, she feels like she's home. She reunited with Julie Allemand, her Belgian teammate, with whom she'd just won the EuroBasket title. She has played 21 games for the Sparks so far, averaging 10.6 minutes and 2.6 points.
The Aug. 9 game, Sparks at Golden State, was particularly emotional. Being a visitor in her former home, she said, felt strange. She reached out to the fans the day before.
"Tomorrow I'm going to be back in Chase Center," Vanloo wrote in an Instagram story. "I can't wait to see you all again. No matter what, Valks fans have a very special place in my heart."
Valkyries coach Natalie Nakase said she feels like a "proud parent" that Vanloo and other players who didn't make her roster are contributing elsewhere. The problem isn't with the players, she says, it's with the rules.
"We need more roster spots," Nakase said. "These girls deserve roster spots."
Now Vanloo is hoping to prolong her up-and-down season by helping the Sparks secure a playoff spot. The close call has given way to an important perspective.
"I'll do anything," Vanloo said, "for my dream."
SELLERS WIPED AWAY a tear when WNBA commissioner Cathy Engelbert called her name as the 17th overall selection in the 2025 April 14 draft. Wearing a light blue suit, Sellers walked to the stage, posed for photos and held a Golden State Valkyries jersey for the cameras.
Nineteen days later, she was gone. "We're going to release you," Valkyries GM Ohemaa Nyanin said. "You've done everything we've asked of you -- but we're going to let you go."
Fairytale endings are hard to come by for players on the fringe. Especially rookies on the fringe.
Sellers, a former Maryland star, had put her belongings in storage before flying to the Valkyries training camp. Now she was unsure where home even was.
She knew she needed to pack up the bags she brought to camp, and she knew she needed to book a flight. But to where?
Should she join her fiancee in New Jersey? Maybe go spend time with her dad, former NBA player Brad Sellers, in Ohio? Question after question floated in her brain as she walked out of the coaches office toward her hotel room.
She called her agent, who told her to stay put until they figured out if other teams had interest. A day later, tired of waiting, she told them she was flying to New Jersey.
"I was like, alright, I just want to get myself together -- do laundry. Like, I've been living out of a suitcase for a month at this point," Sellers said.
Her clothes still had that fresh scent when her agent called and said the Dream wanted to sign her. She repacked her suitcase -- this time just a single one -- kissed her fiancee goodbye and got on a plane to Atlanta 12 hours after she arrived in Jersey. She joined the Dream on May 5.
A week later, on May 12, she was released. She heard the same words again, this time from a different GM. Thank you for coming, we're going to release you.
That same day, she got on a plane but rerouted to her father's house in Warrensville Heights, Ohio, where he serves as the town's mayor. She spent the next few weeks paying out of pocket to rehab her tweaked right knee.
At Maryland, she was the first player to have 1,500 points, 500 rebounds and 500 assists. Now she might not even get a field goal attempt this season in the WNBA. She kept going back to one thought: Two teams waived me in a matter of weeks. What are the chances a third team will take a chance on me?
Fellow 2025 draftee Harmoni Turner, a flashy guard straight out of Harvard, thought she'd only need one coach to take a chance on her. Drafted by the Aces in the third round, one day she was geeking out about getting a text from her new teammate A'ja Wilson, the next day she was a former WNBA player who didn't make it out of training camp.
"You're not ready for the league yet," Aces coach Becky Hammon told her.
Turner went back to Harvard, completed some classwork and participated in graduation ceremonies. Then she moved back in with her parents in Mansfield, Texas. She didn't even have a paystub to show for her time in Las Vegas. In accordance with the CBA, she received just a stipend for lodging, meals and travel.
Every time somebody back home asked, "What's next for you?" she took it to mean that they thought her basketball career was over -- that they were looking for a new answer from her.
Maybe I should quit, she kept thinking.
VANLOO IS ONE of the lucky ones. Waived, picked up and now contributing for a new team. But for many fringe players, the soul-searching begins after the chaos of getting released ends.
DeShields couldn't stomach the idea of sitting around Atlanta waiting for her phone to ring.
After spending a week back home, she decided to move to Los Angeles to work with a trainer and physio she knew. Because the Sun released her for medical reasons, they owed her a percentage of her salary, about $20,000, but that wouldn't last long in L.A. She carefully budgeted her travel and training expenses and reached out to some WNBA friends in the L.A. area who might be able to help her find a place to stay. Lexie Brown, a childhood pal and former teammate who is playing for the Storm in Seattle, offered DeShields her L.A. apartment. DeShields thanked the universe for Brown's generosity and for her lucky break. She moved to the West Coast.
Weeks later, she signed a contract with OGM Ormanspor, a professional team that plays in the Turkey Women's Basketball Super League in Ankara. She left earlier this week and will return next spring just in time for WNBA training camps. The setback has made her goal even clearer.
"When I get back on the court, I plan on making an impact," DeShields said. "I'll definitely be back playing next summer."
It took Turner a bit more time to figure things out.
When she got back to Texas, she worked out with a personal trainer two hours a day, but she kept asking herself, "What was the point of this workout?" USA Basketball invited her to play in a 3x3 tournament in Washington D.C., but her heart wasn't in it. Hammon's voice kept ringing in her brain. On the one hand, she felt immense gratitude to Hammon for taking a shot on her. But those words stung.
When she wasn't in the gym, she stayed home and fixated on the future. She muted any news about the WNBA on her social media. She couldn't bear to see people getting re-signed and getting second chances. The thought of watching the season made her stomach curdle, so she distanced herself. She went out with friends practically every night to avoid the games.
But basketball's pull was too great. One day, she made a promise to herself: I will spend the next seven to eight months getting stronger, bigger and more physical. I will get a call for training camp next season. I will show Hammon -- and everybody else -- what I am capable of doing.
She signed with Landerneau, a team in the French league. She got on a call with head coach Wani Muganguzi. He told her all the right things. They loved her unorthodox style of play and wanted to help her develop.
She left for France on Aug. 12.
"[I'm going to use] those stumbling blocks as stepping stones to get back to the W," she said. "But not only get back to the W, but dominate at a level that shocks everybody."
Unlike Turner, Sellers loves watching her friends and former teammates in the WNBA. After she was waived for the second time, she started texting them -- Diamond Miller, Brionna Jones, Shatori Walker-Kimbrough -- and absorbed their perspectives on how to keep believing. "Your time will come," they told her.
She found a small gym in northern New Jersey near her fiancee's house. She also regularly went to her fiancee's mom's AAU gym to keep developing her skills.
"The world's not over because I didn't make the WNBA on my first try," Sellers said.
Some days, she heard news of a player getting injured and she stared at her phone wondering if she'd get a call to become their replacement. She's not the kind of person to wish an injury on anybody, but she's aware of how -- in a perverse way -- news of an injury makes her hope.
She knows what she wants. And she's willing to wait. And work.
"I've always told people, there is no plan B to basketball -- it's just basketball," Sellers said. "That's just kind of what you're waiting on... is someone to give you a chance."
JONES FOUND A second and then a third team to give her a chance. And as grateful as she is, life on the fringe has created some serious snarls.
Atlanta, where she spent the first two seasons of her career, had become her home. Now Atlanta didn't want her.
After she was released, she moved back home to Santa Cruz, California, so she could work with her trainer and physio. She remembers first going back to her team-assigned apartment and sorting her life's belongings into piles. What do I need for the immediate future? What can I leave behind?
Turns out her partner was one of the things she had to leave behind. He stayed in Atlanta, moved into their rental property (along with many of Jones' belongings) and kept his job until he started law school in the fall.
Two weeks after Jones returned to her parents' home, she signed a hardship contract with the Phoenix Mercury. She knew what she was getting into: She would be there for a week or so to fill the gap while Alyssa Thomas and Natasha Mack recovered from their injuries. Their return would mean a full roster and no room for Jones. It wasn't ideal, but she wanted to keep playing. She took it as a networking opportunity and developed friendships with the players and met with coaches. Then, four games and a week later, on June 8, she returned home to the Bay Area. She'd done what was asked of her, and she was onto finding her next gig.
A week later, on June 17, she heard from the Wings. It was another hardship contract, this time to help bridge injury absences and departures of players representing their national teams. She played two games before she was waived to make space for the European players who were returning to Dallas.
Jones packed her suitcase and returned to the Bay Area. Again. She still believed she could land a roster spot. Somewhere. But the discourse online bothered her. "If you don't know the W, you're like, 'Haley keeps getting cut,'" Jones said. "But the reality of a hardship contract is that I was there to fill a role." Nothing more. Nothing less.
Jones stopped looking at the internet and continued training.
Almost two months after she was waived by the Dream, Jones received another call from the Wings. This time, they offered her a contract to play through the end of the season. She triple-checked with them that it was not another hardship contract before she allowed herself to get excited. She quickly packed two suitcases and a carry-on bag, flew to Dallas and signed on July 9. She brought mostly cotton and linen outfits that would help her get through the summer in Dallas.
She and her partner are doing long-distance for the foreseeable future as he pursues law school and she goes after her WNBA dreams that nearly slipped away. She's cautious about putting down roots. But she has learned that home is people, not a place. And she's slowly finding her people in Dallas.
The past three months, the constant moves and the constant uncertainties have made her more resilient. When she walks onto the court, she doesn't linger much in the past, but neither does she fixate on the future. She plays like today is all she has. And it shows.
In the 19 games she has played since signing her rest-of-season contract, she's averaging 8.3 points, 3.6 rebounds and 2.3 assists. She started 13 straight. Fine is the line between star and spectator.
But Dallas, at 9-32, won't make the playoffs this season. Jones' job is secure for three more games. Next season, the league expands to Toronto and Portland. More jobs will be open. Players such as DeShields, Sellers and Turner will be working to land them. A new class of draftees will join the fray.
Back home in the Bay, Jones has a bedroom drawer reserved for her Atlanta Dream swag. This season, she cleared out two more: one for her Mercury swag and another for her Wings swag. Her mom asked her if she'd like to give any of it away to Goodwill, but Jones decided to keep it. She just might need it someday.
"Who knows what the future holds for me," she said.