🚨 JUST IN: Aces accused of bullying and manipulating Dearica Hamby after her pregnancy as a WNBA investigation erupts ⚡.BT

The story was supposed to be about a championship team celebrating its glory. Instead, it detonated into one of the most controversial scandals the WNBA has faced in years. And at the center of it all stands Dearica Hamby—pregnant, betrayed, and refusing to stay silent.

Just months after helping the Las Vegas Aces secure a historic championship, WNBA forward Dearica Hamby found herself pushed out of the franchise she gave everything to. Her crime? According to her, it wasn’t poor play, bad attitude, or contract drama—it was the fact that she got pregnant.

Hamby, a respected veteran and two-time Sixth Woman of the Year, took to Instagram with a revelation that sent shockwaves across the basketball world: she says the Aces bullied, manipulated, and discriminated against her once they learned she was expecting her second child.

And the accusations are not light. According to Hamby, the team questioned her commitment to basketball, accused her of becoming pregnant intentionally to “take advantage” of her contract, and even suggested she failed to “take precautions” to avoid pregnancy. For a league built on the language of empowerment, equality, and women’s rights, the contrast could not be more explosive.

Hamby says she learned she was being traded after months of mistreatment, cold behavior, and offensive comments from members of the Aces’ management—comments that implied her pregnancy made her unreliable, uncommitted, or simply not worth the investment. She claims she was promised certain benefits and reassurances during her contract extension… promises that conveniently evaporated once the team realized she’d soon be a mother again.

Even worse, Hamby says she was accused of signing her extension while “knowingly pregnant,” a claim she flatly denies. She insists she had no idea she was expecting when she negotiated her new deal, and that she has remained transparent, communicative, and dedicated every step of the way.

But transparency, she says, was met not with understanding—but with “coldness, disrespect, and disregard.”

Hamby’s statement described not just a professional disappointment, but a deeply personal betrayal. She wrote about being heartbroken, traumatized, and blindsided by an organization that preached “family” but refused to practice it. Even more disturbing, she noted that many of the people involved were women—some mothers themselves—who still weaponized her pregnancy against her.

“I have had my character and work ethic attacked,” Hamby wrote. “Being traded is part of the business. Being lied to, bullied, manipulated, and discriminated against is not.”

The Aces organization, fresh off a championship and widely praised for their star-studded roster and aggressive team-building, suddenly looked less like a model franchise and more like a cautionary tale. As Hamby described her experience, fans quickly noticed the irony: a league that advocates loudly for women’s rights and reproductive freedom was now being accused of punishing a woman for choosing motherhood.

Hamby also pointed out another contradiction: many WNBA stars are mothers. The league has long touted the progress of its players balancing elite athletic careers with parenthood. Cheryl Swoopes missed part of the inaugural 1997 season due to pregnancy. Skylar Diggins-Smith missed the entire 2019 season after giving birth. Under the 2020 collective bargaining agreement, protections for pregnant players were strengthened—at least on paper.

And yet here was one of the league’s most respected players saying the system had failed her anyway.

“We fought for provisions that would finally support and protect players who are parents,” Hamby wrote. “This cannot be used against me.”

As her story spread, fans turned their attention to Aces head coach Becky Hammon, one of the most influential figures in the league and its highest-paid coach. Many wondered: What did Hammon know? Did she object? Did she participate? Hamby never mentioned her by name, but speculation erupted instantly.

Meanwhile, the WNBPA issued a statement saying they had begun an investigation. Whether the league will take action—or simply issue a vague statement and move on—remains to be seen.

But one thing is clear: Hamby is done staying quiet.

Her Instagram post closed with gratitude toward Las Vegas fans and excitement about her future with the Los Angeles Sparks, the team she was traded to. Despite the pain, she expressed determination to continue her career, contribute to her new team, and push for change in a league still figuring out how to treat its own players.

Her supporters—including WNBA teammates, analysts, and even former NFL star Reggie Bush—flooded her comments with love, anger, and solidarity.

Hamby’s story is already becoming a defining moment for the WNBA—a moment where the league must choose whether it will truly stand for women and families, or whether its empowering image is just branding.

Because in the end, this controversy isn’t just about one player.
It’s about whether pregnancy is treated as a human reality—or as a punishable offense.

And for the first time in a long time, the league is being forced to answer that question publicly.