Angel Reese’s Workout Gave Me INSANE Results in Just Weeks

Angel Reese was once celebrated as the face of a new era in women’s basketball. Her charisma, social media presence, and confidence made her a household name. But in the offseason, as WNBA players returned to the grind of training, Reese’s latest workout video left fans and analysts confused—and even concerned.

The video, uploaded by her PR team, was supposed to silence critics and showcase growth. But instead, it reignited an old conversation: is Angel Reese focusing on the right things?

In the footage, Reese is seen working on her pull-up jumper, mid-range game, and even a few long-distance threes. Yet the moves looked awkward, the pace slow, and most importantly—there were no coaches in sight. No trainers, no development staff, no one offering guidance. Just a camera capturing drills that, statistically speaking, don’t reflect her real in-game struggles.

It didn’t help that the video dropped just as the Indiana Fever released their own training footage. The contrast was stark—and impossible to ignore.

Lexie Hull and Caitlin Clark were seen in Fever’s gym, drilling with precision. Every move they practiced had a purpose—Lexie draining corner threes to space the floor for Clark’s drives, Aaliyah Boston working on left-handed floaters in response to how defenses shut her down last season. Their development coach, Keith Porter, even flew out to work one-on-one with Boston, ensuring her growth wasn’t just individual, but aligned with the team’s championship strategy.

Basketball fans noticed.

In Reese’s case, there was none of that. Despite being a 6’3” post player, her video focused on perimeter shots rather than the close-range layups she’s struggled with. Her 44.5% finishing percentage within 5 feet was among the worst for her position in the WNBA. Analysts pointed out that nearly half of her rebounds came from her own missed shots. This inflated her rebounding numbers while exposing a deeper issue—inefficiency near the rim.

Even more damning, legends like Shaquille O’Neal and Lisa Leslie had both publicly advised Reese to improve her layup technique. Lisa Leslie once told her directly:

“The biggest advice I have for you is how you shoot your layups. We’re going to fix that. That’s fixable.”

Yet, Reese’s new video ignored that entirely. There was no footage of her correcting form under the rim, no drills targeting her finishing ability. Instead, fans saw jump shots—many of which she hardly takes in real games.

Meanwhile, the Fever’s videos went viral, garnering millions of views—not just for athletic flair, but for the strategy behind them. Analysts praised the Fever’s system: every player training for their specific in-game role, correcting real problems from the past season, and building chemistry. It was less about showmanship, more about substance.

One segment showed Natasha Howard fine-tuning short-roll finishes, while Brianna Turner focused on rim protection and vertical spacing. Even DeWanna Bonner, a veteran, was seen improving her pick-and-pop timing to support Caitlin Clark’s court vision. It was, as one analyst said,

“a basketball ecosystem growing in front of our eyes.”

Reese’s video, on the other hand, lacked structure. No signs of involvement from the Chicago Sky coaching staff. No clear goal. Just repetition of moves that didn’t address the core issues. One fan commented:

“Why is she working on three-pointers when she can’t even finish layups?”

The stats supported the criticism. Reese’s overall field goal percentage was only 39.1%, and she shot less than 15% from the 5 to 9 feet range. For a power forward, those numbers are troubling.

Some fans defended her, arguing she was trying to expand her game. But others pointed out the absence of accountability, the flashy but flawed drills, and the lack of coaching presence. More than a few questioned if Reese was being set up for long-term success—or if her development was being sacrificed for social media attention.

Reese has undeniable talent, a strong fan base, and a captivating presence. But in the WNBA, results matter. As the Fever quietly build a championship culture—one practice, one role-specific drill at a time—players like Reese face a choice.

Will she listen to the advice of legends, refine her weaknesses, and elevate her game to the next level? Or will her training remain a highlight reel of surface-level moves, disconnected from the demands of the real game?

The next season may tell us everything.