Aces security director more than A’ja Wilson’s bodyguard

Like the world’s easiest game of Where’s Waldo, you can usually spot Leon “Sonny” Watson in any photo of reigning MVP A’ja Wilson on the job. At 6 feet, 8 inches tall, the Aces’ security director is hard to miss — and always there.
Watson’s demeanor and stature is intimidating to outsiders. He has a background that affirms he’s not someone to mess with. But within the Aces’ organization, Watson’s nickname is often uttered in a singsong tone that reflects just how fond everyone is of him. The same experiences that hardened him are what make his presence with the Aces so valuable.
“He’s just a warm, kindhearted person — and someone that I know that could take a damn bullet for me, which is crazy,” Wilson said.
Watson showcased that duality at almost 10 p.m. on Aug. 19 in the media room at Michelob Ultra Arena following a 74-72 victory over the Atlanta Dream, the Aces’ eighth straight win.
Freshly 49 years old, he stood at the doorway with his arms crossed after ushering Wilson to the podium. His eyes steadily panned back and forth between the front of the room and the back wall, silently surveying for potential threats.
“It’s Sonny’s birthday, y’all! Everybody wish Sonny a happy birthday!” Wilson exclaimed before taking questions.
Watson finally cracked a smile when someone responded to Wilson’s celebratory declaration by playing the kind of air horn sound often used to hype up the crowd at a nightclub.
Attentive, trustworthy
Wilson has a consistent pregame warmup routine. Every game, the three-time MVP sprints out of the tunnel to the sound of cheers. As she shoots from each range and practices one-on-one moves, the early crowd watches in anticipation for her to hit the jets again.
Even on his birthday, Watson didn’t miss a beat. Well before she prepared for her sprint back, he signaled to an Aces staffer to move something too small to see from the path she was sure to take so that she wouldn’t trip.
Wilson doesn’t take it for granted.
“He sees things before I even think about them, and I’m a pretty aware type of person,” Wilson said.
Private about her relationship with Miami Heat center Bam Adebayo, Wilson didn’t hesitate to mention her boyfriend when talking about Watson.
“Sonny is just a huge part of my family. He looks after my parents when I’m in game. He looks after Bam when I’m in different situations,” she said. “I’m truly grateful to have somebody like that in my circle, because I don’t really invite a lot of people in. Especially now at this stage in my career.”
Wilson, a devout member of the BeyHive, knows that her fan base refers to Watson as “Julius” in a reference to Beyonce’s longtime bodyguard.
“It’s hilarious,” she said. “But when we talk about men that are going to protect at all costs, the similarities are there.”
Watson doesn’t just look out for Wilson and the Aces. He also tries to sharpen their game.
“He does kind of give me pointers,” Wilson said with a smile, declining to provide specifics. “It scared me at first. I thought something was going on, but it’s pretty cool to see the game from his point of view.”
Aces coach Becky Hammon doesn’t mind his input, either.
“He texts me all the time. We talk. He was a high-level player.” Hammon said. “But I think it’s more important how much the (players) trust him.”
‘Just dominant’
There’s a reason the Aces enjoy Watson’s expertise on and off the court. He was close to being in their shoes.
Watson, who wasn’t introduced to basketball until the seventh grade, grew up in Los Angeles with dreams of becoming a professional boxer. But his lanky, fast frame translated to the court — and eventually landed him in the hospital at the start of his senior year at Crenshaw High School.
“I had to get 44 stitches in my right shoulder,” Watson said. “I got a scar that I will never get rid of. I see it every day.”
In December 1993, Crenshaw was an unstoppable basketball juggernaut, and Watson was its standout center. With three minutes left in the first half of a key game against Faith Baptist, Watson invigorated the crowd by slamming down a put-back.
The emphatic bucket shattered the backboard and eventually silenced the audience upon the realization that Watson, primed to help his team to a second consecutive California State Division I championship, was seriously hurt. It wasn’t the glass that lacerated Watson’s shoulder, but the fallen rim.
Marques Johnson, a former NBA player and college basketball Hall of Famer, watched as a Crenshaw alumnus and father. His son, Kristian Johnson, was Watson’s teammate. The elder Johnson had also grown close with Watson, working with him as an AAU coach.
“I’ve never been in a situation like that where I actually witnessed a shattered backboard. You could see the white meat. It was a nasty, gruesome kind of gash,” Johnson said.
The game stopped as Watson was taken to a hospital with Crenshaw leading 71-23. His team went on to win the state championship, but, with Watson sidelined, fell short of a national title despite a national No. 2 ranking by USA Today.
“If we had Leon, we would have won,” Johnson said. “It was a cruel twist of fate because we were without one of the most dominant bigs in the country. He blocked about 10 shots a game in one tournament.”
Trying to save a life
Being referred to as “Leon” is a tell for Watson. He was named after his father, who used “Sonny” as a nickname first, and Watson isn’t likely to respond to anything else now.
“If I’m called Leon, I know I knew you from when I was in my youth,” Watson said.
If you know that name, it’s likely that you also know the rest of his story.
After recovering from his shoulder injury, Watson continued his career at Dixie Community College in Utah, where he was considered one of the nation’s top 10 prospects, according to a 1995 Los Angeles Times article.
Watson thought his earth-shattering high school dunk would be his “once-in-a-lifetime” experience on the court. Then, he found himself in a familiar but safer situation when he halted a game at Salt Lake Community College after he broke some of the foundation of the rim.
He went on to play in the NBA Summer League, along with stints for the Belize national team, the Harlem Globetrotters and overseas clubs in Europe and the Middle East.
Wilson knows about his shattered backboard days and credits them for his ability to understand her.
“He knows how fans are going to interact from his playing days,” she said. “He knows that some days I may not want to (be bothered) because he’s probably had that feeling. And he stops it from a mile away.”
Watson retired after 11 years because he knew he could make a bigger impact elsewhere.
“I was tired of dealing with the politics of sports and all the favoritism for some,” he said.
Once his playing career ended, he searched for purpose in volunteer work, joining programs to address drug addiction, gangs, human trafficking and homelessness, issues he said he saw “up close” growing up in Los Angeles.
“I wanted to do something to make a change in the community where I lived,” he said. “I know you can’t save every life, but if I can just save or change a few, it’s all worth it.”
Time keeps proving that the basketball community is the one he was never meant to leave.
Security every player deserves
A wide smile flashed on Brittney Griner’s face as she clasped hands with Watson while warming up for the Dream. When the veteran center got inadvertently hit in the face during the game, Watson was one of the first people to rush to her aid despite his priorities with the home team.
Their time in Phoenix overlapped, as Watson worked for the NBA’s Suns and WNBA’s Mercury, for which Griner was a star player until she left for Atlanta as a free agent in the offseason.
“He was just always super intentional, like went above and beyond,” Griner said. “He knows basketball. I always felt super protected when he was around. … I feel like every player in this league deserves to have that sense of security.”
Heightened security has become an issue for the WNBA. In 2023, Griner’s first season back after a 10-month detainment in a Russian prison, she was confronted in the airport by an inflammatory blogger while traveling with the Mercury.
The league called Griner’s safety a top priority and said they had planned for her to fly private even before the incident, but didn’t instate charter flights for the entire league until the 2024 season. In recent years, other high-profile players have dealt with stalkers and spoken about growing unease when they travel to away games.
Hammon, a former WNBA player who also coached in the NBA, never understood why increased safety measures took so long.
“When I came into this league, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t there already,” she said. “Why isn’t security traveling? Why aren’t they on the bus with us? My first year as a coach, I really pushed hard for (more).”
That’s why Watson is so frequently seen with the Aces.
“He needs to be around. You’re not going to build that trust unless he’s around all the time,” Hammon said. “They know they can call him up at 4 a.m., and it’s never going to get back to me.”
It just so happens that Watson is now visible enough for his hometown crowd to take note.
“We saw a picture of him with (Wilson). She’s walking down the hall; he’s in the background,” Johnson said.
That’s just how Wilson likes it. She knows that if other people can see Watson, he saw them first.
Contact Callie Fin at cfin@reviewjournal.com. Follow @CallieJLaw on X.