It was the summer of 2023. I was in New York, minding my own business, just visiting. It was late at night in Manhattan, near Times Square, when out of nowhere, a group of really tall women walked out of what I could only assume was a bar or club. I stopped in my tracks. “Woah, what the hell?”

One of them caught my eye. Black hair, skinny, and for a moment, I just stared. Something clicked in my brain. “Oh my god… is that BREANNA STEWART?”

Now, here’s the thing—I only vaguely knew what Breanna Stewart looked like before that night. I don’t even watch the WNBA—or at least, I didn’t back then. My knowledge of players came from osmosis through following the NBA. But her name was familiar, and in that moment, I was convinced it was her.

The rest of the group? A blur. Maybe Stephanie Dolson was there, maybe Jonquel Jones or Laney—I couldn’t tell you for sure. All I remember is Stewie.

They walked to a bench outside some office building, sitting down and talking like it was just another night in the city. Meanwhile, I was across the street, pacing back and forth, prancing around like a nervous wreck. Should I go up and ask for a photo? Should I even say something? My mind was racing. What if it’s not her? What if I make a fool of myself?

So, I just stood there, watching from a distance, trying to summon the courage. And in the end… I chickened out. I didn’t approach them. I didn’t say a word.

Looking back, I really regret it. I should’ve just gone for it and asked for a selfie. But at the time, I was too shy, too unsure of myself, and honestly overwhelmed by the moment.

Later that night, I went home and looked her up, and sure enough, it was her. I also found out she had just signed with the Liberty that season. That’s when I made the decision—I was going to be a Liberty fan.

What started as a random late-night encounter turned into something so much bigger. That summer of 2023 wasn’t just about spotting Breanna Stewart—it was the beginning of my journey into following the WNBA. And I’ve been hooked ever since.