A’ja wilson vs. napheesa collier: Seven Games of Trauma & Greatness

Watching the Minnesota Lynx and Las Vegas Aces go at it, and one thing hit me like a Courtney Williams crossover and middy—this should be a WNBA Finals series.

Forget “one night only,” this is heavyweight theater begging for a best-of-seven.

The Aces stretched their winning streak to a franchise-best 13 after smacking the Lynx 97-87 in Vegas. A’ja Wilson hung 31, Jackie Young tossed in 20, Chelsea Gray cooked up 13 points and 10 assists, and NaLyssa Smith chipped in 10. That’s the kind of box score that makes you want to print it out, frame it, and hang it in a Las Vegas sports bar.

But this isn’t just another regular season win. This is A’ja vs. Phee, Wilson vs. Collier, elephants stomping on ants.

And we’re the ants. We get to sit there, crushed under history, begging for more.

Heavyweight Slugfest

Napheesa Collier came into the game leading the league in scoring with 23.5 a night. The Aces strangled her offense and held Collier to 12. That’s not just a slowdown—that’s locking the gym doors and swallowing the key.

Wilson?

Now the betting favorite to win league MVP, she didn’t just put up 31 points, she did it while rewriting the record book mid-game. She needed two field goals to pass Katie Smith for No. 18 all-time. She ended up with 12, leapfrogging Smith and Tangela Smith, climbing to No. 17 before the Lynx could blink. Oh, and she grabbed 8 boards, sliding past Breanna Stewart and Crystal Langhorne into 19th all-time in rebounds. That’s the basketball equivalent of flooring a Lamborghini past traffic while waving in the rearview.

Wilson now owns 12 thirty-point games this season. That’s double what the next closest player has. Her career total sits at 36, and only Diana Taurasi’s 54 is above her. A’ja isn’t just flirting with greatness—she’s leaving voicemails and registering for joint credit cards.

But Collier isn’t rolling over. The Lynx embarrassed the Aces with a 53-point loss earlier this year, and they won the season series 3-1. Phee has not held back her punches this year, like her whole career depends on it. She’s Naruto staring down Sasuke with everything on the line—except instead of chakra blasts, it’s contested pull-ups and mid-post footwork.

And the résumé this year? It’s absurd.

The Lynx have the best record in the league and clinched the top seed. Collier won Player of the Month in May, June, and July. She was an All-Star captain, walked away with All-Star Game MVP, and just casually became the first player in WNBA history to lead the league in scoring while shooting 50-40-90 over the course of the first seven games. Oh, and this season she also became the 29th player ever to notch 50 career double-doubles.

The League Needs This Series

Courtney Williams keeps turning back the clock, making her All-Star nod look like the easiest call of the summer. Jackie Young just crossed the 1,000-assist mark, proving she’s not just a bucket, she’s a basketball Swiss Army knife. Chelsea Gray recorded her 18th points-assists double-double, tying her for fourth all-time in that category with Ticha Penicheiro. She doesn’t just pass dimes—she passes brunch menus with extra syrup.

The stage is perfect. The rosters are stacked. The stakes scream Finals.

If we’re lucky enough to get this matchup in October, the marketing department can take a vacation. Wilson pulls out her inevitable Nike signature shoe. Collier rocks out in custom Jordans. Nike family showdown. You could film a commercial with both of them in a parking lot and it would still break the internet.

Last year’s Finals were one of the most-watched in league history. A Wilson-Collier series smashes that ceiling. This isn’t just basketball—it’s mythology dressed in sneakers. A’ja trying to prove she’s the best player alive. Collier trying to storm the castle and plant her flag. The storyline could sell itself in stone tablets.

If Phee loses MVP to A’ja again, that’s déjà vu pain. That’s two years straight of walking to the stage, watching Wilson take the hardware, and smiling through the fire. But picture this—Collier loses MVP, then flips the script in the Finals. She snatches Finals MVP in A’ja’s house, with confetti raining down. That’s the kind of revenge arc that makes writers jealous.

And don’t underestimate what’s at stake for Wilson either. Every time she passes a legend on the all-time list, her shadow grows. Every 30-piece she drops, the argument grows louder: best player alive. Not best power forward. Not best defender. Best player alive. Full stop.

And if this thing goes seven games? Goosebumps.

We’d be talking about one of the greatest series in women’s basketball history. The kind of series people rewatch on YouTube 20 years later when they can’t sleep. The kind of series that turns casual fans into lifers.

This isn’t just about two teams. This is about the WNBA planting its flag and saying: we’ve got rivalries, we’ve got storylines, and we’ve got the kind of star power that makes everything else look small.

So yeah—give me seven games of this. Give me A’ja and Phee trading haymakers until somebody collapses with the trophy. Anything less feels like a crime against basketball.