Angel Reese Silently Skips Big Game to Attend Funeral of 9-Year-Old Fan Battling Cancer — Then Dedicates Her Next Performance to Her “Little Angel”
In a world where professional athletes are often defined by stat lines, contracts, and viral moments, Angel Reese reminded everyone what it truly means to be a role model. Just days before a high-stakes Chicago Sky matchup, Reese made a decision that no one saw coming—not her coaches, not the press, not even her teammates.
She didn’t show up for tip-off.
Instead, she showed up at a quiet church in a Chicago suburb, dressed in black, with no cameras, no entourage, and nothing in her hands but a single bouquet of white lilies.
She was at a funeral.
The service was for a 9-year-old girl named Maliyah, a devoted Sky fan who had spent the last two years fighting leukemia. Throughout her brutal rounds of chemotherapy, Maliyah never once missed watching a Sky game from her hospital bed. Her favorite player? Angel Reese. And every time she went in for another treatment, she wore a Sky jersey—always number 5.
“She said Angel made her feel brave,” Maliyah’s mother later told local reporters. “She believed if Angel could fight hard on the court, she could fight hard in that hospital chair.”
Angel had never met Maliyah in person. But she knew about her.
A nurse at Lurie Children’s Hospital had shared Maliyah’s story with the Sky earlier in the season, and Angel had sent a handwritten note, a pair of signed sneakers, and a custom Sky jersey with Maliyah’s name on the back. “You’re stronger than me,” Angel wrote. “Keep fighting. I’m rooting for YOU.”
Three days before the Sky’s matchup against the Connecticut Sun, Maliyah passed away peacefully in her sleep.
When Angel found out, she was devastated.
According to team staff, she didn’t ask for permission to miss the game. She simply informed them, “I need to be somewhere more important.”
On the morning of the funeral, as mourners gathered inside the small community church, no one expected the 6’3″ basketball star to quietly walk through the doors. No publicist. No social media announcement. No attention drawn.
Just a young woman mourning a young fan.
Angel sat quietly in the back of the church. When Maliyah’s casket passed by, she stood and placed her bouquet of lilies atop it—white flowers for the girl who wore her jersey like armor. Witnesses said she wiped away tears during the service and didn’t speak unless spoken to. When it ended, she hugged Maliyah’s mother and whispered, “She made me want to be better.”
Angel slipped out before most people even realized she had been there.
It wasn’t until the next day that her absence from the game sparked questions. Fans were puzzled. Commentators speculated. But Angel remained silent—until tip-off of the next game.
That’s when everything changed.
When she stepped onto the court against the New York Liberty, something felt different. There was no pre-game joking, no half-smiles. Just a quiet focus on her face.
From the opening possession, Angel Reese played like a woman possessed.
She scored 22 points. Grabbed 18 rebounds. Dished out 4 assists and blocked 2 shots. It was one of her most complete and dominant performances of the season. But it wasn’t the stat sheet that told the story—it was what she said after.
During the postgame press conference, Angel finally broke her silence.
“I wasn’t in the last game because I had to say goodbye to someone special,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “Her name was Maliyah. She was nine. She wore my jersey to every chemo appointment. I never met her, but I loved her.”
She paused, visibly emotional, and then continued.
“Tonight, every bucket I made, every rebound I grabbed—that was for her. I told her mama I’d play this one for Maliyah. And I did.”
There was no grand gesture, no camera-ready speech. Just honesty. Just heart.
Social media exploded.
Fans began sharing photos of Maliyah in her Angel Reese jersey, smiling weakly from a hospital bed. Hashtags like #ForMaliyah and #AngelForAnAngel began trending nationwide. Even rival players took to Instagram to applaud Angel’s act of humanity.
WNBA legend Sue Bird tweeted, “This is why we play. Not for applause, not for money. For the kids watching, the kids who believe. Angel Reese gets it.”
Candace Parker reposted a photo of Maliyah in her jersey with the caption: “A real one. Salute, @angelreese5.”
The Chicago Sky organization quietly announced they would be honoring Maliyah with a permanent seat in the arena for the remainder of the season, draped with her #5 jersey. The seat is right behind the Sky bench—Angel’s request.
As for Angel, she hasn’t said much since. She continues to play, continues to grind. But those close to her say she’s carrying a different kind of motivation now.
In a league often scrutinized for what happens on the court, Angel Reese reminded everyone of what matters off of it. In a time when athletes are expected to be brands, she chose to be simply human.
A little girl believed in her. Wore her jersey. Fought her hardest because of her.
And Angel showed up—not as a superstar, but as a friend. As a teammate in spirit. As a woman who understood that sometimes, the most important arena isn’t the one with lights and cameras. It’s the quiet pew of a church. The empty seat behind the bench. The heart of a child who believed.
Angel Reese played one of her best games of the season. But she didn’t dedicate it to stats, standings, or revenge.
She dedicated it to a little girl named Maliyah.
Her “little angel.”
