Angel Reese GOES NUTS After DECLARED WORST Shooter in WNBA History!

The spotlight was brighter than ever. The WNBA was buzzing, and two players were at the center of the storm: Caitlyn Clark and Angel Reese. One had the finesse, the grace, the accolades—Caitlyn Clark. The other had the power, the size, and the raw drive—Angel Reese.

But for Angel Reese, it wasn’t just about proving herself against Clark—it was about proving herself against the critics who said she wasn’t good enough, the doubters who labeled her the worst shooter in WNBA history. As Reese stepped onto the court for the new season, she was determined to silence every critic.

However, the statistics told a different story.

The numbers didn’t lie. Caitlyn Clark, the rookie phenom, had already cemented her place in the league. Ranked sixth in the WNBA for shooting efficiency, Clark was making waves with her deep threes, her flawless mid-range shots, and her impeccable free throw percentage. Her game was smooth, clean, and most importantly, efficient.

And then there was Angel Reese, ranked 30th on the same efficiency list, with a shooting percentage that barely hit 46%. The gap between the two couldn’t have been more evident. Clark’s shooting from beyond the arc was at 33.9%, and she was second in free throws, at an astonishing 90.9%. Reese? She was barely holding it together with a 40% conversion rate on two-point shots and a wobbly effective field goal percentage of 39.5%. It was painful to watch, and the comments from fans and analysts were harsh. Angel Reese, once hailed as a powerhouse player, was now facing the harsh reality of the game she loved.

“What happened to the girl who dominated on the college court?” the critics asked.

It was hard for Reese to escape those comments, especially when Caitlyn Clark’s star seemed to shine brighter with every game. The media loved Clark, and the fans adored her. But it wasn’t just the media that Reese had to contend with—it was her own frustration, her own inability to finish around the rim, and her struggle to convert simple shots that should have been easy.

She had the height, the athleticism, the power—but she didn’t have the efficiency. That was what separated her from Clark. And no matter how many times she practiced her perimeter shots, her three-pointers, or her mid-range game, the missing piece—the one thing she had to fix—was her lack of finishing at the basket.

It wasn’t just a fluke; it was a consistent flaw. Fans and players noticed. And Reese, despite her immense talent, couldn’t seem to get out of her own way. The more she tried to force plays, the more her numbers suffered. She knew she had to change, but the road to redemption was steep.

One day, after yet another disappointing game, where she missed easy layups and couldn’t hit her jumpers, Reese sat in the locker room, replaying the events over and over in her mind. “I can’t let this define me,” she whispered to herself.

It was then that her phone buzzed—another training video from her PR team, showcasing her “progress.” She almost didn’t open it, but something inside her pushed her to tap on it.

What she saw made her blood run cold. Her training had been all wrong. Her shots, her footwork—none of it was addressing the real issue. She had been avoiding the hard work.

In the past, Reese had always excelled with power and strength. But now, she needed more. She needed to work on what made her vulnerable.

She needed to face the rim and confront her weaknesses head-on. Instead of practicing three-pointers and perimeter shots—moves she rarely used in actual games—Reese needed to focus on her inside game. The layups. The finishes. The shots she should have been making without hesitation.

It was time to redefine her game.

Over the next few weeks, Reese completely changed her approach. She threw herself into rebuilding her technique. She spent hours in the gym, working on finishing at the basket. She watched endless videos of Caitlyn Clark’s game, not just to admire, but to understand her approach to getting open and making the most of every opportunity. She focused on her footwork, her angles, and the finesse needed to finish with ease. No more avoiding the problem.

The change wasn’t instant, but slowly, the results began to show. She wasn’t perfect, but she was getting better. Each day, her finishing at the rim improved. Her numbers from inside the paint were climbing, and her confidence began to build.

Then came the game that would define her.

Facing Caitlyn Clark’s team, Reese took the court with a new mindset. This time, it wasn’t about proving she was better than Clark—it was about proving she was better than the player who had been holding herself back.

As the game went on, Reese’s efforts to finish at the basket began to shine. She wasn’t just focusing on perimeter shots anymore; she was attacking the rim with confidence, making the layups and finishes that had once eluded her. It wasn’t flashy, but it was effective. And by the end of the game, Angel Reese had found her rhythm. She had faced her weaknesses and turned them into strengths.

“This is just the beginning,” Reese thought, as the final buzzer echoed through the arena.

And just like that, she had begun to reshape her legacy—not as a player who tried to beat Caitlyn Clark, but as a player who finally embraced the hard work necessary to reach her true potential.

Reese’s redemption was more than just about numbers. It was about growth, humility, and the willingness to confront what had been holding her back. The journey wasn’t over, but for the first time in a long while, Angel Reese finally understood what it took to become a true champion.