“Draft Night Dread: Haley Van Lith’s Chicago Nightmare and the Return of Angel Reese”

For most young athletes, WNBA Draft Night is a culmination—a celebration of years of sweat, sacrifice, and dreams realized. The cameras pan to tearful families, million-dollar smiles, and hugs rehearsed for months. But when the Chicago Sky called Haley Van Lith’s name with the 11th pick of the 2025 draft, the fairytale script was shattered. The world watched as Van Lith’s face, frozen in disbelief, told a story of dread and déjà vu that no amount of media training could hide.

This wasn’t nerves. This was horror. And the reason for that horror? The inescapable shadow of Angel Reese.

For the uninitiated, Van Lith and Reese were teammates at LSU—a partnership that, on paper, should have been a powerhouse. In reality, it was a statistical and emotional quagmire for Van Lith. After starring at Louisville as a dynamic, 20-point-per-game scorer, Van Lith’s numbers cratered at LSU, dropping to a paltry 11.6 points per game. The chemistry was off, the system stifling, and the fit disastrous. So, Van Lith did what any ambitious athlete would do: she transferred, landing at TCU and immediately reclaiming her scoring touch with an average of nearly 18 points per game.

It was a calculated move, a bet on herself, and it paid off—until fate, in the form of the WNBA draft, dragged her right back to square one.

The cameras didn’t miss a beat. As her name was called, Van Lith’s expression shifted from blank shock to a forced, trembling smile. The internet exploded. “HVL is feeling sick,” one fan tweeted, echoing the collective sentiment of basketball Twitter. The draft, meant to be her coronation, felt more like a sentencing. For Van Lith, the moment she realized she’d be reunited with Reese—her statistical kryptonite—was a gut punch that played out in real time for millions to see.

The numbers don’t lie. At Louisville, Van Lith was the unquestioned star, the engine of her team’s offense. At LSU, with Reese dominating the ball and the spotlight, Van Lith’s role shrank, her touches evaporated, and her confidence visibly waned. The contrast was stark. When she left and debuted at TCU, she poured in 24 points in her first game, a clear sign that the problem wasn’t her talent—it was the fit.

Now, with the Sky, the nightmare threatens to repeat itself.

Angel Reese, for her part, couldn’t have been happier. Minutes after the draft, she took to social media: “We ain’t do it right the first time. Let’s run it back.” For Reese, the reunion is a chance at redemption, a second shot at a partnership that never quite clicked. For Van Lith, it’s a rerun of a horror show she thought she’d escaped.

The reactions were swift and merciless. “She cut the cancer out and it came right back,” one viral comment read. Fans remembered all too well the sight of Van Lith standing open on the three-point line at LSU, waiting for passes that never came as Reese chased her own stats. The fear is that Chicago’s offense will become a repeat of that dynamic: Reese dominating, Van Lith relegated to a supporting role, her scoring and career prospects withering on the vine.

It’s not just emotional drama—it’s cold, hard math. In the pros, a player’s value is measured in numbers. A three-point drop in scoring can mean the difference between starter and benchwarmer, between endorsements and obscurity. For Van Lith, the risk is existential. She rebuilt her reputation at TCU, proving she was more than her LSU struggles. Now, she faces the prospect of seeing all that hard work undone by a situation she never wanted to revisit.

The Sky’s front office and coaching staff now face a critical decision. Do they recognize the toxic dynamic that nearly derailed Van Lith’s college career? Can they foster a new system that allows both players to flourish, or will they repeat the mistakes of LSU’s past? The answer could determine not just Van Lith’s future, but the trajectory of the franchise itself.

There’s a cruel irony in the timing. Just as Van Lith had clawed her way back into the spotlight, she’s been thrust back into the shadows. Social media is already calling for the Sky to trade her before she ever suits up alongside Reese. The fear is palpable, and the skepticism justified.

For Van Lith, this is more than a basketball challenge—it’s a test of mental fortitude, of resilience in the face of déjà vu. Her journey has become a psychological thriller, a story of escape and recapture, of talent suppressed and reborn. The world will be watching to see if she can rewrite the ending.

The question remains: Will Chicago finally get it right, or is Van Lith doomed to relive her worst basketball nightmare on the brightest stage of her career?