Brittney Griner, the WNBA star and Olympic gold medalist, recently opened up about her painful experiences at Baylor University, criticizing her former coach, Kim Mulkey, for what she describes as deeply hurtful treatment due to her sexual orientation.
Griner has now issued a strong ultimatum, declaring that if Mulkey is not removed from her current coaching position, she will leave the United States to compete professionally for another country.
Griner, who led Baylor to an NCAA championship in 2012 under Mulkey, has publicly shared that she endured significant emotional distress while playing under the legendary coach due to her sexuality.
Speaking candidly in recent interviews, Griner said, “She insulted me deeply. I felt ostracized, unsupported, and profoundly hurt by the lack of acceptance.”
The relationship between Griner and Mulkey, previously considered a formidable player-coach duo, appears to have fractured irreparably.
Griner, a prominent LGBTQ+ advocate, accused Mulkey of contributing to a toxic environment for gay athletes at Baylor—a historically conservative Christian university located in Waco, Texas.
Griner explained, “The pain of being gay at Baylor wasn’t just a personal struggle; it was amplified by the silence and sometimes outright hostility from those who were supposed to support and guide me.

Kim Mulkey’s refusal to openly support LGBTQ+ athletes made it harder for everyone like me.”
Mulkey, now coaching at Louisiana State University (LSU), has faced criticism in the past for her silence regarding LGBTQ+ issues, especially considering her influential role as a leading figure in women’s college basketball.
Her reluctance to address these topics publicly, particularly regarding Griner, has drawn considerable backlash from advocates, fans, and now, directly from Griner herself.
“I never expected my coach to wave a rainbow flag, but basic respect and acknowledgment of my identity wasn’t too much to ask,” Griner expressed.
“She had immense power to make a difference for young athletes struggling like I was, but instead, she chose silence or subtle hostility.”
Griner’s statement has triggered widespread debate, garnering attention from media outlets, fans, and athletic organizations alike. Baylor University, which has historically struggled with its approach to LGBTQ+ inclusion, faces renewed scrutiny over its institutional culture.
Advocates argue that Baylor and other universities should use this situation as a turning point, reinforcing the necessity for genuine support structures for LGBTQ+ student-athletes.
Griner’s ultimatum—demanding Mulkey’s removal from coaching if Griner is to remain competing under the American flag—places significant pressure on LSU, Baylor, and even USA Basketball.

Her announcement could lead to notable ramifications in the sports world, highlighting the ongoing battle for LGBTQ+ rights and representation in athletics.
If Mulkey remains at LSU, Griner has expressed willingness to leave the U.S. and represent another nation in international competitions. This dramatic step underscores the depth of her frustration and her commitment to fostering change.
“It isn’t about revenge or personal bitterness,” Griner clarified. “It’s about making clear that silence in the face of discrimination and discomfort isn’t acceptable anymore. Young athletes should never feel alone or unwanted because of who they are.”
Sports organizations, advocacy groups, and public figures have largely voiced support for Griner. Prominent LGBTQ+ rights organizations see Griner’s bold stance as a rallying cry for necessary change, urging athletic bodies to adopt more rigorous policies protecting LGBTQ+ athletes.
Social media erupted with mixed reactions, highlighting deep divisions within the sports community. While many expressed admiration for Griner’s courage and her insistence on accountability, others criticized her ultimatum as unfairly targeting Mulkey personally.
Yet, despite some pushback, the predominant sentiment remains supportive of Griner’s courage in addressing a long-standing issue.
Experts in sports sociology emphasize that Griner’s actions could have profound implications, potentially forcing a reexamination of institutional practices regarding sexuality in collegiate and professional athletics.

Baylor, in particular, has the opportunity—and responsibility—to address past wrongs and demonstrate a genuine commitment to inclusivity.
Griner, whose bravery extends beyond her athletic prowess, has continually used her platform to advocate for marginalized communities.
Her willingness to speak candidly about her experiences has already inspired countless young athletes grappling with similar challenges.
“I know this is bigger than me,” Griner stated, acknowledging the broader implications of her stand.
“If my experience can spare someone else from feeling isolated or less-than because of who they are, then I’ve done my job. But the institutions that allowed such treatment must also do theirs.”
Moving forward, the sports world awaits responses from Baylor, LSU, and relevant authorities such as NCAA and USA Basketball.

These institutions face a critical choice: acknowledge past shortcomings and take meaningful steps toward inclusivity, or risk losing a prominent athlete and advocate.
For Brittney Griner, the situation transcends mere personal grievance. It has become a powerful call to action, spotlighting urgent changes needed to ensure that no athlete must ever again endure what she experienced at Baylor.
The outcome of her stand will undoubtedly influence the future landscape of LGBTQ+ rights and acceptance in sports.
As Griner’s bold declaration reverberates through the world of athletics and beyond, it becomes increasingly clear that her courage in confronting discrimination is not only reshaping conversations around LGBTQ+ rights in sports but also setting an unprecedented benchmark for accountability and action.
Whether institutions rise to the occasion or falter under scrutiny, Griner’s impact is undeniable and enduring.
News
The auditorium glitched into silence the moment Joel Osteen leaned toward the mic and delivered a line no pastor is supposed to say in public. Even the stage lights seemed to hesitate as his voice echoed out: “God will NEVER forgive you.” People froze mid-applause. Kid Rock’s head snapped up. And in that weird, suspended moment, the crowd realized something had just detonated off-script.
The crowd expected an inspiring evening of testimony, music, and conversation. What they got instead was one of the most explosive on-stage confrontations ever witnessed inside a church auditorium. It happened fast—36 seconds, to be exact.But those 36 seconds would…
The room stalled mid-breath the moment Mike Johnson snapped open a black folder that wasn’t on any official docket. Cameras zoomed. Staffers froze. The label on the cover — CLINTON: THE SERVER SAGA — hit like a siren. Johnson leaned toward the mic, voice sharpened enough to scratch glass, and read a line that made every timeline jolt: “Her email is criminal.”
Here’s the thing about made-for-TV government: it knows exactly when to hold a beat. Tuesday’s oversight hearing had the rhythm down cold—routine questioning, polite skirmishes, staffers passing notes like we’re all pretending this is not a stage. And then Mike…
🔥 “THE FLOOR SHOOK BEFORE ANYONE COULD SPEAK.” — Investigator Dane Bonaro didn’t walk into the chamber — he tore through it, slamming a blood-red binder onto the desk with a force that made the microphones hiss. The label on the cover froze the room mid-breath: “1.4 MILLION SHADOW BALLOTS.” He locked eyes with the council and snarled, “You want the truth? Start with this.” For one suspended second, every camera operator lifted their lens like they’d just smelled a political explosion.
Here’s a scene you’ve watched a hundred times if you’ve spent enough hours in hearing rooms and greenrooms: a witness with a flair for performance, a committee hungry for a moment, and a gallery of reporters quietly betting which line…
🔥 “THE SMILE FLICKERED—AND THE ENTIRE STUDIO FELT IT.” — Laura Jarrett walked onto the Saturday TODAY set with the kind of calm, polished glow producers dream of. Cameras glided, lights warmed, and the energy felt like a coronation. But right as she settled between Peter Alexander and Joe Fryer, something shifted — a tiny hesitation in her smile, the kind that makes everyone watching sit up a little straighter. And then it came: a voice from outside the studio, sharp enough to snap the broadcast in half. For a full second, no one moved.
Here’s the thing about TV milestones: they’re designed for easy applause. A new co-anchor takes the desk, the chyron beams, the studio lights do their soft-shoe, and everyone is on their best behavior. It’s a ritual as old as morning-show…
🔥 “THE ROOM STOPPED LIKE SOMEONE CUT THE OXYGEN.” — What’s racing across timelines right now isn’t framed as a speech, or an interview, or even a moment. It’s being told like a rupture — the instant Erika Kirk, normally armored in composure, let a single tear fall while standing beside Elon Musk. Witnesses in these viral retellings swear the tear didn’t look emotional… it looked inevitable, like something finally broke through her defenses. And when Musk turned toward her, the entire audience leaned in as if they already knew the world was about to shift.
It was billed as a calm forum on human rights—an hour for big ideas like freedom, transparency, and the obligations that come with having a public voice. The stage was washed in soft gold, the kind of lighting that flatters…
🔥 “THE ROOM WENT DEAD IN UNDER A SECOND.” — What unfolded inside the Senate chamber didn’t look like a hearing anymore — it looked like a trap snapping shut. Adam Schiff sat back with that confident half-smile, clutching a 2021 DOJ memo like it was the final move in a game he thought he’d already won. Staffers say he timed his line perfectly — “Your rhetoric ignores the facts, Senator. Time to face reality.” But instead of rattling Kennedy, something in the senator’s expression made even reporters lean forward, sensing the shift before anyone spoke again.
It didn’t look like much at first—another oversight hearing, another afternoon in a Senate chamber where the oxygen gets thinned out by procedure. Then Adam Schiff leaned into a microphone with a lawyer’s confidence, and John Neely Kennedy pulled out…
End of content
No more pages to load