Jimmy Kimmel had the UCLA Bruins women's basketball team on his show Tuesday to celebrate their first national championship in program history, and couldn't resist turning the moment into a political bit aimed at President Donald Trump.
During a group interview on "Jimmy Kimmel Live," the late-night host asked players Lauren Betts, Kiki Rice, Gabriela Jaquez, and Angela Dugalić whether Trump had reached out to congratulate them. The players said no. Kimmel then pulled out a silver trophy he described as fake and urged the team to present it to the president if they receive a White House invitation, Fox News Digital reported.
Head coach Cori Close sat nearby and laughed. The studio audience played along. But the stunt drew immediate criticism online from viewers who said Kimmel hijacked a team's crowning achievement to score cheap political points.
After the players confirmed Trump hadn't contacted them, Kimmel offered his prediction:
"I'm sure you know he's busy. Um he's in two weeks you'll hear from him. In the event that you do get invited to the White House and you decide to go to the White House, I have something for you."
He then produced the fake trophy and laid out his plan:
"What I want you to do is bring this fake trophy we've made to the White House. He's not going to know. But when you bring a trophy, he sometimes takes it and keeps it for himself. So, this is for you guys to take to the White House. And then you can say, 'President Trump, we want you to have this.' And he'll be so happy. You'll probably get an endowment and you'll be able to keep the real one."
The bit was built on the premise that the president could be fooled by a cheap imitation. It was framed as a joke, but it landed as something else entirely, a late-night host using a group of young women athletes as props in his running feud with the White House.
UCLA's victory was historic. The Bruins defeated the South Carolina Gamecocks 79-51 in the national championship game over the weekend at Mortgage Matchup Center in Phoenix. It was the program's first women's basketball title ever.
South Carolina, led by Dawn Staley, had reached the national title game three consecutive seasons and won it all in 2024. UCLA's dominant 28-point win was no fluke, it was a statement performance by a team that earned every bit of its celebration.
On April 7, the Bruins were honored at center court during a Los Angeles Lakers game against the Oklahoma Thunder at Crypto.com Arena. Former President Barack Obama posted on social media congratulating the team on their win. The players had every reason to enjoy the spotlight on their own terms.
Instead, Kimmel steered the conversation toward the president before the players could even settle into their chairs. The question about whether Trump had called wasn't a setup for the athletes to talk about their achievement. It was a setup for Kimmel's punchline.
Users on X were quick to call out the segment. One wrote: "Even celebrating their championship he has to make it about himself and his hatred for Trump. What an a**hole." Another asked: "What will he do when Trump is out of office? Is the show cooked?"
Even some who found the bit amusing acknowledged the problem. One user posted: "This is funny, but I dislike that he used them to smite the frump."
The backlash followed a familiar pattern. Kimmel says something political, critics push back, and the host digs in. It's a cycle that has defined his show for years, and one that increasingly overshadows whatever entertainment value his program once offered. The broader trajectory of late-night television's decline as a cultural institution makes episodes like this feel less like comedy and more like political programming with a studio audience.
This wasn't an isolated moment. Kimmel has made antagonizing the right a central feature of his show. Earlier this year, he mocked Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin's background as a plumber, comparing him to Super Mario and questioning his qualifications to lead DHS.
When the backlash came, from Republican senators including Cynthia Lummis and Ted Cruz, who called the remarks insulting to blue-collar workers, Kimmel doubled down on his show.
"Let me make this very clear, I'm not upset that the head of Homeland Security used to be a plumber. I'm upset that he isn't still a plumber," Kimmel said. He added: "I wouldn't put a plumber in charge of Homeland Security for the same reason I wouldn't call a five-star general to pull a rat out of my toilet. OK? We all have our areas of expertise."
That controversy prompted sharp responses from figures like Mike Rowe, who challenged Kimmel's dismissal of skilled trades and the people who work in them. Rowe's pushback resonated with millions of Americans who saw in Kimmel's joke exactly the kind of coastal condescension that drives distrust of media elites.
The Mullin episode revealed something Kimmel's defenders prefer to ignore: his political humor punches in one direction, and it often punches down at the people he claims to champion. Mocking a man's honest trade isn't satire. It's snobbery. And the backlash wrote itself.
What made Tuesday's segment particularly grating was the dynamic in the room. These were college athletes, young women who had just accomplished something extraordinary. They didn't sign up for a political segment. They came on a talk show to celebrate.
Kimmel didn't ask them about the game plan that dismantled South Carolina. He didn't ask Lauren Betts about her performance or Kiki Rice about the team's chemistry. He asked about Trump. And then he handed them a fake trophy and a script for how to embarrass the president.
The players were polite. They went along with it. But that's the problem, they were put in a position where going along was the only comfortable option on live television. A host with real respect for their accomplishment would have let the championship breathe on its own.
The shift in late-night from entertainment to political advocacy has been well documented. Networks are already rethinking the format, CBS recently moved away from Stephen Colbert's "Late Show" in favor of a different approach entirely. Audiences have been voting with their remotes for years.
Here's what Kimmel didn't mention: the UCLA Bruins just won a national championship by 28 points. That's a program-defining, legacy-making achievement. The players on that couch earned a moment that had nothing to do with Washington, nothing to do with late-night ratings wars, and nothing to do with Jimmy Kimmel's political opinions.
Whether or not President Trump contacts the team, and Kimmel himself predicted "in two weeks you'll hear from him", the Bruins' accomplishment stands on its own. A 79-51 demolition of a three-time consecutive title-game participant doesn't need a gag trophy to be memorable.
But Kimmel couldn't help himself. The same impulse that led him to mock a cabinet secretary's blue-collar roots led him to turn a championship celebration into a bit about deceiving the president. The pattern is consistent, and the target never changes.
The players deserved better. They earned the biggest win in UCLA women's basketball history. They got a late-night host who couldn't let them enjoy it without making it about himself, and about the man who lives rent-free in his monologue.
