
When Breanna Stewart stepped onto the stage to accept Sports Illustrated’s 2025 Innovator of the Year award, the moment felt ceremonial. By the time she finished speaking, it felt revolutionary.
This wasn’t a victory lap. It was a declaration.
Stewart, standing in the spotlight on behalf of herself and co-founder Napheesa Collier, used her speech to reframe what innovation in women’s basketball actually means—and who gets to define it.
The award recognized Unrivaled, the new player-driven league co-created by two of the most powerful voices in the WNBA. But Stewart made it clear: this wasn’t about a trophy, a title, or even validation from a legacy media institution.
This was about control.
“Unrivaled doesn’t exist without her vision,” Stewart said of Collier, immediately redirecting attention away from herself and toward the partnership that sparked the movement.
Even in absence, Collier’s presence loomed large—a reminder that this league was never about one star, but a shared refusal to accept the status quo.
From the opening moments, Stewart shifted the tone. What started as light humor quickly gave way to something sharper, more intentional. She spoke not as an athlete grateful for recognition, but as a builder explaining why the structure had to change.
Unrivaled, Stewart explained, was never just about creating something new. It was about creating something better.

A league designed by players, for players.
A league that reflects athletes’ value, voices, and futures.
A league that doesn’t ask women to wait.
That distinction matters.
For decades, women’s basketball has been trapped in a paradox: growing popularity paired with structural limitations, star power without equivalent leverage, visibility without autonomy.
Stewart’s speech cut through that contradiction. Innovation, she argued, isn’t a shiny idea—it’s the courage to rebuild systems that no longer serve the people inside them.
And courage, she made clear, doesn’t happen in isolation.
She credited the athletes who believed in the idea before it had proof. The partners who took a risk without guarantees. The fans who refused to settle for incremental progress. Each acknowledgment reinforced a deeper truth: Unrivaled isn’t a rebellion fueled by ego—it’s a collective response to years of being told “not yet.”
Then came the line that changed the room.
“This award isn’t just for us,” Stewart said. “It’s for every woman who’s ever been told to wait her turn.”
That wasn’t rhetoric. It was recognition.
Because Unrivaled exists precisely because waiting stopped being an option.
Rather than lobbying endlessly for change within rigid systems, Stewart and Collier chose a different path. They built their own table—and invited others to sit with them. In doing so, they sent a message that reverberated far beyond the ceremony: women’s sports no longer need permission to innovate.
The significance of the moment goes deeper than one league or one award. Stewart accepting Innovator of the Year isn’t just about entrepreneurship—it’s about power shifting into the hands of the athletes themselves. For the first time, players aren’t merely the product. They’re the architects.
And that reality is unsettling for anyone invested in maintaining control.
Unrivaled challenges long-standing assumptions about offseason play, compensation, visibility, and ownership. It questions why elite women athletes must chase opportunities elsewhere, why their labor is often undervalued, and why their ideas are treated as risky rather than necessary.

Stewart didn’t mention those conflicts explicitly—but she didn’t need to. The subtext was unmistakable.
The league is watching. The industry is watching. And perhaps most importantly, the next generation is watching.
By closing with “we’re just getting started,” Stewart turned what could have been a capstone moment into a starting gun. This wasn’t the culmination of a journey—it was a signal flare.
Sports Illustrated gave Stewart an award for innovation. Stewart used the stage to redefine innovation itself.
Not as disruption for attention.
Not as change for optics.
But as ownership, intention, and refusal to shrink.
In a landscape where women’s sports are finally receiving unprecedented attention, Stewart’s speech landed as both celebration and challenge. Growth without structural change, she implied, isn’t progress—it’s delay.
And delay is something she and Collier are no longer willing to accept.

As the applause faded, one thing became clear: this wasn’t just a speech about Unrivaled. It was about a future where women athletes don’t wait to be included—they build, lead, and decide.
The award may say Innovator of the Year.
But the message was timeless.
Pull up a seat. The table is already being built.





