Brittney Griner's Joyful Next Chapter

BOTTEGA VENETA, Knit, at bottegaveneta.com Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

BOTTEGA VENETA, Knit, at bottegaveneta.com Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

BOTTEGA VENETA, Knit, at bottegaveneta.com Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

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In the 17 months since she returned to the United States, Brittney Griner has never been bigger, but not by choice. The six-foot-nine center's career highlights — from breaking out in college basketball at Baylor University and winning the 2014 WNBA championship for the Phoenix Mercury to bringing home gold medals at the 2016 and 2020 Olympics for Team USA — have almost been overshadowed by the events that unfolded in her life in 2022.

It's all in her second memoir, Coming Home, which tells the story of how the Houston-born WNBA champion and Olympic gold medalist was detained by Russian authorities and imprisoned for 293 days. Before her arrest, she had been accustomed to playing for international teams overseas, hooping for the Zhejiang Golden Bulls and Beijing Great Wall in China and the UMMC Ekaterinburg in Russia. As Griner explains it, WNBA players will often play overseas because they are not paid enough Stateside. "We earn about 250 times less than NBA players and have a hard cap on our salaries. In the WNBA that year I made around $220,000. Overseas, I earned a million plus. That pay gap is why I was in Russia in the first place," she writes. In February 2022, when rushing to pack for a trip back to Russia to play in her eighth season there, she forgot she'd left a vape cartridge containing small amounts of cannabis oil in her bag. Griner chronicles the moments leading up to her arrest and the brutal aftermath as her wife, Cherelle Griner — then a third-year law student — rallied the United States government and the biggest names in sports to bring the athlete home. "I needed to do it sooner than later. At least get it out while it was fresh," Griner says now of her decision to write the memoir, which will be published on May 7. "We knew that we needed to start on it last season. But I don't think there was ever a moment where I was like, All right, this is the time. I was just so anxious."

JIL SANDER, Coat, at jilsander.com BURBERRY, Tank Top, at burberry.com COS Pleated Shorts, at cos.com  Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

For the May 2024 cover of the Cut, Griner spoke with fellow Olympian Megan Rapinoe about their experiences as out gay athletes who have been thrust into the political spotlight. Rapinoe and Griner have been in each other's orbits, bumping into one another at various games and events over the years, from the Olympic bubble in Tokyo to the occasional WNBA game — thanks in part to Rapinoe's partner, former WNBA player Sue Bird. "Revolutionary people show up in all types of different ways and she certainly is one," Rapinoe says of Griner. "You'd think she's tough, but she's just a big teddy bear."

Really, she's both. The gay, super-tall Black girl from Texas whom, as she writes, people often perceived as a Black man, and who has survived painful levels of scrutiny for holding those identities, and the buoyant, funny, endearingly scared-shitless parent-to-be who just got back from a camping trip and bought Rollerblades. As she told Rapinoe during their conversation last week, Griner is focused on living as joyful a life as she can now that she's home. About the upcoming birth of her first kid — baby Bash — she told Rapinoe, "Screw the championships and all the trophies and all that; that's going to be the highest peak of my life right there."

Megan Rapinoe: I don't know if you remember, but in 2021 we were on the plane back from the Tokyo Olympics. I definitely had one or two too many drinks, which is probably how I got the courage to come talk to you. [Laughs.] We were just chilling, and I was saying "You've created so much more space for all of us just by existing. You're a tall, gay Black kid from Texas who's a generational basketball player …" Even prior to the detainment, you were this revolutionary kind of figure. And now you're at the center of a whole new revolution, being able to talk about WNBA salaries and being able to talk about safety and why you were in Russia in the first place. Do you think of yourself that way?

Brittney Griner: I feel like I just fell into it 'cause there is my height, the way I sound, the way I dress, I'm not going to conform into this cute buttoned-up little girl who they sometimes want you to be. I kind of said, F that, I'm just going to be me and you're going to have to take it, like or not.

M.R.: How has it been navigating coming back and wanting to just sit and watch movies with Cherelle and go out in your jeep?

B.G.: When I got back it was wild to say the least. Everybody expected me to just be happy right off the bat, like, "You're home. Be happy." And there was a honeymoon stage of being back, but then I hit the wall.

M.R.: When you were in that honeymoon period, was it almost like an autopilot, I'm going to try to go back to just how things were?

B.G.: Definitely tried to go back to how things were — going to the store, helping Relle with groceries — but then there were so many different little triggers here and there. Our address got leaked so people knew where we lived, and we were getting all this hate mail, really nasty, evil things being sent to the house about me and my wife. We had to go to a safe house for a while, and then we had to sell that house, find a new home. I just wanted to go home to my house, the smells that I remember, the memories, the familiarity. But now I'm uprooted, living out of my suitcases with a security detail. I was a basketball name. People knew me from hooping, Baylor …

M.R.: Olympics, WNBA …

B.G.: But a lot more people watch the news, and there were so many more people who knew me, and I could tell when I would be out because I would notice people looking up. You see the people looking up or trying to snap a photo or whatever. It's like a chain reaction. Everybody's like, "Oh shit, do you know who that is?" Just the other day in a hotel, I had this creepy guy get on the elevator. He looked up at me all weird and was like, "Are you the one that was in a Russian prison?" And I was like, "What? Nah." Luckily one of my teammates was with me and stepped in between us. It was weird. Anytime I'm alone and there's someone by me, I'm just like, Why are you here? Are you trying to see if it's me? Are you trying to question me? What is it?

M.R.: Did coming back to the Phoenix Mercury, the same team you've been with since 2013, feel like a safe place to start over from?

B.G.: I can only imagine what it would've been like if I came back, switched teams, switched cities. Oh my God, I think that would've been the end of me. It is no secret: I love being in Phoenix, the area, the familiar faces, but they helped me out so much. Thinking back on it, maybe I shouldn't have played, but it would've gotten much harder now to try to get back into it. At the end of the day, I'm a basketball player, I love playing ball. I need to get back to that, so then I can figure out, Am I still that person? Is this still my identity?

Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

M.R.: Anybody who knows you just loves you. So many people rocked so hard and used whatever lever they could pull to keep your name in the news, writing you letters and wearing your jersey all around. Can you talk a little bit about what you knew of that while you were in prison and how that felt?

B.G.: It was a lot to take in. There were things here and there that I knew about. I remember my lawyer showing me the photo of Steph Curry, Nneka Ogwumike, and Skylar Diggins-Smith at the ESPYs and the "We are BG" on the court, the patches, and it was amazing. But my brain was all over the place. I was just like, Yo, normally you'd only see that on a court or a patch when someone is dead.

My mind was in some dark places while I was over there, but that love and everyone, like you said, wearing jerseys, tweeting, posters, all that, it made me not feel forgotten, I know that. There were so many nights where I went to sleep and was wondering when the next big story is going to come through and then the hype goes down, all the awareness goes down. But I never felt that drop.

M.R.: How do you see yourself showing up in the space of talking about other Americans detained overseas?

B.G.: I'm aware of the platform that I have. A lot of these families have relatives who are in even worse conditions than I was in. So we have to do whatever we can. If it's bringing the families to the game, putting them in front of the camera, having them say something and replay it in the concourse or in the gyms during halftime, 'cause each person we add to the movement is going to push it forward to get those Americans home.

M.R.: What was the moment like when you first saw Cherelle after landing in San Antonio?

B.G.: Oh, I broke down. Even seeing her through the window, before I even got off the plane, I broke down. I could see that she was crying. I was just like, "Please don't bust your ass, because I know there's probably cameras somewhere. Just don't fall. You've made it all this way." But I got over there quick to her, and hugged her. We were embracing, whispering back and forth to each other. I was like, "You're going to kill me, but I don't care. It's been months," and I got a little slight booty grab. [Laughs.] She was like, "Oh, my God, stop." I was like, "All right, all right, all right." That sums up our whole relationship. She's like, "Stop, stop, stop. No, not in public." I'm like, "Nah, whatever." Squeeze squeeze!

M.R.: You never lost yourself!

B.G.: I couldn't. Not fully.

M.R.: In all my interactions with you, I feel so much joy. You're just a big kid. You talk a lot about how this book is a love story. And now you guys have a kid on the way.

B.G.: We had talked about having kids before this happened. I'm glad we waited because it would've destroyed me even more — destroyed us even more — if we had a little one back here while she's fighting to try to get me out. But when I got back, we were like, "Tomorrow's not guaranteed. We need to stop playing around with time. We need to do this." We wanted a new chapter of our life. I knew I was going to be done with playing overseas, so we pulled the gun on it. We've got a little boy on the way, Bash Raymond Griner, and I'm super excited for this next chapter of my life. Anybody who knows me knows I love kids. I've always been right there with my nieces, my nephews. I just love family time. The country, down South side of me comes out.

I can't wait to go fishing and off-roading and teach them everything my dad taught me, them coming to me for advice and watching them learn something or figure something out for the first time. That's going to be the biggest joy. Screw the championships and all the trophies and all that; that's going to be the highest peak of my life right there.

And Baby Bash, I hope, will play basketball! I just want them to play something! They could do art, sports, whatever. Would I be very happy if it was basketball? Of course. But I was a soccer goalie in seventh and eighth grade.

M.R.: You covered the whole goal.

B.G.: I did. I loved it. Loved those rainy days, so I could slide in the mud. I want them to play something, just not football, honestly. That makes me very nervous.

M.R.: Sue said you're going to have a skateboarder on your hands.

B.G.: I would be very happy because my hero growing up was Tony Hawk.

M.R.: Facts. Can you talk a little bit more about your and Cherelle's relationship? And what it was like when you weren't able to communicate easily and regularly?

B.G.: Being away from her was probably one of the hardest things ever. We've known each other 12 or 13 years now. Been married for five of them. We've been through highs, lows, good, and bad, and she's always been there for me. When I was gone, she wrote me four or five letters that said "Open when you're feeling alone," "Open when you're feeling sad," "Open when you feel like this is all your fault," 'cause she knows how I am. Each one was different and those letters meant so much to me.

When I got sentenced to nine years, I wrote her a letter. I'm a realist. I was just like, "Nine years is a long time, babe. I get it," basically giving her an out. I asked, "Can you still be my friend? Write me." She shot that down so quick. She was like, "Don't ever write anything like that again." She never wavered. When I finally got back she was so patient with me. There were so many times when I just wanted to be alone, and then there were days when she couldn't get me away from her.

We had to learn to be together again a little bit. Telling her about my experience, there was one time I was telling her something that had happened. I could see how it was really just destroying her, and I immediately stopped talking. I was like, "Nah, it is hurting you too much. I need to divulge this with my counselor first, and then we can talk about it."

M.R.: What's that like, to both relearn your old life and also craft a new one? Do you guys go to counseling together? Or just talk about the process of "Now we need security" or "Now we need a different house"?

B.G.: Security was the big one. When we left the military base in San Antonio and came back to Phoenix, we flew into the hangar. We had two security guards at that time. They drove us to the house. It was a shock for Cherelle. Everybody thinks she's super outgoing because of how she handled all the interviews while I was away, but it's cringe for her. She does not like being on-camera like that and out in the public. [Laughs.] She's very private: family, close friends, that's it. We get to the new house, we have people putting up security cameras, wiring the cable, doing perimeter checks; they're in the house with us at the time and she's literally like, "I can't do this," beelines to the back where the bedroom is, closes the door and is crying, having a little breakdown.

I get everybody out of the house, and I'm like, "Hey, we dictate how this looks. Whatever we need to do, whatever you need, I've got you. We will figure this out." Fast-forward a little bit, it's working smoothly now. But there were growing pains. It was definitely hard for her. It was hard for me too.

M.R.: So you're playing the season. You've got a baby on the way. You have this book coming out. What do you want for the next five years of your life? What brings you joy when you think about what's coming? I would imagine you have a different perspective after not knowing if it was coming.

B.G.: Big time. For me, honestly, just trying to make the least amount of mistakes as a parent.

M.R.: Yeah. Good luck.

B.G.: I know, right? Everybody's like, "You're going to mess up. It's cool." Everybody keeps saying "They're way more resilient than you think." I'm like, "What does that mean? What? Now you're dropping kids?"

M.R.: What are some of the things that you love to do now that you are home, just for you?

B.G.: A couple of weeks ago, me and one of my really close guy friends, we went camping in my jeep. We stayed out there all night, just camped out, really roughed it. It's not for some people, but I was head over heels. I was so happy, just barefoot out there in the desert, no lights. It was amazing! That brings me a lot of joy. I like fishing, going longboarding and stuff like that. Bought me some skates the other day. I've been skating in my neighborhood a lot.

NIKE X Bode, Scrimmage Pants, at Bode and select Nike retailers CONVERSE, Chuck Taylor All Star, at converse.com  Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

M.R.: Like, four wheels?

B.G.: No, in-line Rollerblades. I'm looking for some four-wheeled skates that are size 17, and that's hard. But I've been pretty crazy with that.

M.R.: So that's how you're taking care of your mental health, clearing your head?

B.G.: One hundred percent. I would say golf, too, but honestly I get more pissed off playing golf sometimes. My driving is really bad right now. I'm open-faced, slicing right every time. My short game's good though.

M.R.: I don't even try to play golf because I'm like, If I'm not going to be as good at golf as I was at soccer, then what's the point? I'm going to be so mad. I'm going to be so fucking pissed!

B.G.: I think that's why I like it so much. It's so hard, and I can't look to the right and left at my teammates, like, "Hey, goddamn, keep them in front." It's on me. Everything's on me now. But it'll make you pull your hair out, for sure.

M.R.: People ask me this, and it's actually kind of annoying, but I'm going to ask you: What do you want people to know about you? Because obviously even before this, it was like people think they know you or they know some of you, and now there's politics attached to it.

B.G.: The weirdest thing for me was being labeled non-American or anti-American. That one kind of irritates me the most, honestly, because my dad was a legit Marine, Vietnam '68 to '69. He fought for our country, then went into law enforcement for 30-plus years. He saw a lot, a lot, especially back then. I came into basketball in ninth grade, so I was a late bloomer in it. Before that, I wanted to go into the military. When everybody asked me "What would you do if you weren't in basketball?" I would've probably been a cop. My life would've been way different. And because I've protested against police brutality, and all of this, I'm labeled as un-American.

And I'm like, What? That makes me more American using my right to protest. What do you mean? People die for standing up for their rights in other countries, and we're lucky enough to be able to fight for our country. And just because I love something doesn't mean I can't challenge it. In most relationships, if you love something or love somebody, you're going to challenge them, too, and you're going to call out bullshit when you see bullshit. Hopefully people are mature enough to understand that.

M.R.: That would piss me off too. Like, you haven't even read the Constitution!

B.G.: It is crazy with some of the stuff I get in the mail now from people with their little bully fingers, their little bully thumbs.

M.R.: I got this piece of hate mail the other day, and it was typed out on a normal 8-by-11 piece of white paper. It was just like, "You're a giant dick." And then it was signed with this guy's name, and a drawing of a little dick at the bottom. And I was like, You typed this out and printed it, just to show me that. I don't even get on social media because it's so crazy. How are you navigating with the level of commentary that happens around you?

B.G.: I remember being in the hospital bed at the military base. I finally got a phone, and I immediately Googled my name. I was like, If there's a threat, I want to know what the threat is. I want to know what people are saying. I started looking up all this stuff. Granted, it pissed me off, but I just wanted to know. Now I don't read it anymore. If I go into my Instagram right now and my DMs, I'll just have a plethora of b.s. It's like, You took so much time out of your day for a person you can't stand. How about you just don't say anything? Or half the time they follow me. I'm like, You don't like me. You don't like what I stand for. Why are you following me? I damn sure don't follow people who I don't because it's going to make me mad. For what?

M.R.: In real life, do you have a more positive interaction with people who are coming up to you?

B.G.: I have a lot of people come up to me saying just how much they prayed for me to come home; they were so happy, thankful. Even some people who — if I was to stereotype them based on the bumper stickers on their car — I would think they may not be happy with me being back, even they'll come up and be like, "No matter what, you don't deserve to be in that prison over there." And I'm just like, "Thank you, I can appreciate that." Because what people fail to realize, no matter what is going on or what the case is, you still have rights as an inmate. Even in our country — and it's not right here, I'm not saying that we have the best jail system because we don't, we know this — there are still rights that you have. And when they violate those rights it's not safe. It's not okay.

M.R.: Was there any part of your experience living in Russia when you played basketball there before that helped you or made it easier to navigate? I was talking to Sue earlier about it today, and she was talking about the sense of social isolation and community isolation that you guys would feel going over there. You have your teammates, and hopefully you have a couple of Americans you're playing with or people you know from before, but you're so far away, there's a time difference, and you really are physically isolated.

B.G.: When I played in China for two years, I was the only American and hardly anybody spoke English. That definitely helped prepare me because once I made it to the actual penal colony, if it wasn't for Alena, Ann, and Kate [fellow English-speaking inmates with whom she became close], I really wasn't speaking at all to people. It was a lot of hand signals, thumb up, real childlike communication. They might know one word in English. They'll come up to you and be like, "Hi." I'm like, "Hi, how are you?" And then now they don't know what to say. [Laughs.] I was fortunate enough to meet those three people who translated a lot for me. It wasn't their job. They're in prison too, but they helped me out tremendously. I wouldn't have made it without them.

M.R.: You talk a lot about Alena, your bunkmate, being that lifeline for you. You found someone who could connect you to that world. Even when you go overseas and you can't speak, it's just hard to do everything. You're catching 5 percent of what's happening. So she was able to cue you in on the world and how to keep safe?

B.G.: She put me on game to a lot in the prison world, how it works, how it works in Russia, which guards are okay, which guards are not okay, the inmates, who did what. Because you start hearing about "Oh, this person did this." "This person did that." "Don't hang out over there." "If someone puts a piece of candy on your bed, don't take it because you're agreeing to someone liking you."

Me and Alena found out that my roommate was basically spying on us. We found a journal with her writing down everything. We had so many meetings with the warden, because they kept trying to figure out things about me. I was like, "First off, just Google my name." Because the things they want to know are like, "What do your parents do?" Look, my dad was a cop. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. That's so trivial. The intel you want, it's really crappy intel. It was just mind games, honestly.

M.R.: I think that's part of the game that happens inside. My brother has been in and out of the carceral system for 25 years. He's sober now. But just listening to his interactions and what he learned, the way that he kept his humanity, really, and connection, family and friends, community, and whatever kind of way was so important. Because it's so easy to slip into just being someone they have in their prison.

B.G.: I mean, I had to just be a prisoner at one point because I am holding on to this hope, and it's just killing me every single day that it's not happening. I literally have to just drop hope at a certain point. Like, I'm a prisoner and that's what I am. All right. This is my job I got to do from sun up to sun down. Head down. I've just got to grind it out.

M.R.: The moment you knew some movement was happening [at the penal colony, where Griner's assignment was clipping threads on a sewing floor] you talk about in your book that you basically fucking drop that sewing kit, and you're like …

B.G.: I was out of there!

M.R.: What did you feel in that moment?

B.G.: I'll back it up. I knew something was in the works. One day, I was brought to talk to some KGB-type agents, and they're talking about, "This could be a trade. But make sure you pay the money." I'm like, Well, if I'm getting a pardon, then I don't have to pay a fine, but okay.

M.R.: So weird.

B.G.: Ann came to me a week or so later and says, "You're going home. It's happening. Get your stuff." I was like, "Fuck that stuff. I don't care." We left. I found out I had made $10 out of all that time working in the penal colony. I was like, "And you can have that $10. I don't care." I signed it over to her.

I was really happy, but I was nervous at the same time. I thought: This could be a big mindfuck. When the day I'm actually supposed to leave comes, they take me to a men's prison in Moscow, and then they rebook me back in, and now I'm like, Oh, shit. They're just moving me to another prison. Now I'm about to be isolated. After a couple of days, I got a note underneath my door that said, "Be ready at midnight" or some late, crazy hour. I didn't even go to sleep. I packed up all my stuff. I slept with my shoes on, and then I finally got to process out. I had put on real clothes, that's when I knew. They took me to the airport after driving me around the Kremlin, and they were like, "Do you know who lives here?" I was just like, "Yeah, I know." They were like, "Our leader lives here." I'm just like, "Jesus Christ. Get me out of this brainwashed ass car."

We get to that airport, and I get on that plane. I was worried someone might shoot the plane down. It wouldn't be the first time. I knew I wouldn't feel safe until wheels are on U.S. soil.

M.R.: That's honestly fucking crazy. I can't wait for that movie, if you ever make a movie.

B.G.: [Laughs.] I was honestly having a really shitty day today. It was just one of those mentally taxing days today. Like I said, highs and lows. I broke earlier, honestly. I needed this — I appreciate you so much.

Photo: Philip-Daniel Ducasse

M.R.: I can't wait to go to your games and see you play. Your baby's going to come out probably taller than me. Though Cherelle's height might bring it down a little bit …

B.G.: She's like, "How is this thing getting out of me, right now?" I was like, "Babe, thank you so much, because there's no way I could have … what? No. Me, pregnant?" Every time I turned around, I would probably hit somebody in the head with my belly. I can't. [Laughs.] Tell Sue I said what's up, if she's around.

Sue Bird: I've been listening in this whole time! How's training camp in San Diego going?

B.G.: This is unreal right now. It's crazy. Kicking our ass, but it's good though, being out here.

S.B.: You're coming to New York this month? We'll be here for that.

B.G.: Hell yeah. Let's go get some wine afterward.

M.R.: That's right. Come to our place. We're all too recognizable to be going out anywhere.

S.B.: What do you mean? I blend all the way in. It's you two fuckers!

B.G.: Nah, I'll put my hood on. Wheel me in a wheelchair. No one will know.

M.R.: "There goes grandpa."

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

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