The WNBA does not need a white knight

Caitlin Clark is a generational star, but she is not the league.

By Megan Armstrong

If you let certain pockets of the internet tell it, the WNBA will fold before Caitlin Clark heals from her quadriceps strain. Dispelling this myth is easy: Pay attention to the WNBA.

On May 30, the Indiana Fever hosted the Connecticut Sun and executed a 16-0 run in the fourth quarter. DeWanna Bonner drilled three triples, reminding everyone why she’s the WNBA’s third all-time leading scorer. When 2023 Rookie of the Year and two-time All-Star Aliyah Boston gave the Fever a 75-74 lead, 16,000-plus fans roared so loudly that the ION broadcast crew didn’t hear the whistle when a foul was called on Boston on the Sun’s ensuing possession.

As the Fever put on a show (though ultimately lost), Clark was a spectator like everyone else, and people still cared.

“For those who don’t realize it, supporting the league is supporting Caitlin,” Sue Bird, a first-ballot 2025 Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame inductee, said on a recent episode of A Touch More with Sue Bird & Megan Rapinoe. “If you want to support Caitlin, you have to support the league. She’s a part of that ecosystem. She doesn’t get to just separate herself out.”

When Indiana announced the reigning rookie of the year would miss at least two weeks, the news was immediately met with sensationalized headlines about cratering ticket prices.

And isn’t reducing something’s worth to capitalistic valuation such a predictably American thing to do? I’m not naive. Professional sports are a business. But the mainstream media, largely white and misogynistic, fails to acknowledge that the WNBA does not need to hit arbitrary markers to be successful. Perhaps it’s because it’s ignorant of all the markers the WNBA already smashed through.

In September 2023, when asked by All The Smoke host Stephen Jackson about fans wanting the WNBA to be as big as the NBA, Kelsey Plum said, “When I get comparisons to the NBA, it’s like apples and oranges. We’re so young. Where we are in our league versus where the NBA was [in its 26th year] ... we’re technically bigger. [...] I tell fans all the time, like, don’t come support me. Come watch me play. When you go watch Devin Booker play, you’re not saying, ‘I’m here to support Devin.’ No, you say, ‘I wanna see this man hoop.’ ... There’s a language difference. This isn’t charity. I think that matters. That respect factor matters.”

Since its 1996 inception, the league has brought so much value, fighting for social justice and providing a safe place for underrepresented (and underappreciated) communities. As Candace Parker, three-time WNBA champion and two-time league MVP, said this week on First Take, “We are, in our league, a majority of the minority in this country.” More than anything, the WNBA has been home to some all-time hoopers. And people wanted to watch them from the jump. The league’s first-ever game between the Los Angeles Sparks and New York Liberty drew 5.04 million viewers on June 21, 1997, per Sportico. Real ones remember Lisa Leslie on Sister, Sister, or Dawn Staley, Rebecca Lobo, Teresa Edwards, and Sheryl Swoopes on Martin. It’s not the players’ fault that broadcast partners failed to see what was always right there until last June, when the WNBA announced an 11-year media rights deal valued at about $2.2 billion with the potential to reach $3 billion.

Alas, the current-day WNBA is still discussed within a reductive framework. The least people could do is be honest about all of it.

Clark’s injury is a bummer for the Fever and fans alike—as is the case when anyone’s favorite player gets hurt—but how insulting to diminish the entire league to one player. Clark is a generational star, but the league does not live and die by her. She brought in a new audience, sure, but it is not superior to the audience that has been here. I’m pretty sure Clark would agree with that, especially since she grew up appreciating the league and idolizing Maya Moore.

So, why is it so hard for some people to admit?

Racism, sexism, an utter lack of common sense, or a disinterest in watching the league about which they suddenly have so many opinions? Take your pick.

It’s a shame because the unrelenting commitment to hammering home Clark as the WNBA’s savior robs of the truth. The truth is so much better. So much fuller.

The WNBA and its players association are negotiating a new collective bargaining agreement to fairly reflect the gains players have made over decades. The league has expanded for the first time in 17 years—the Golden State Valkyries became the 13th franchise this season, with Toronto and Portland set to join next year. Players are finally receiving the necessary working conditions to be world-class athletes, as more and more teams announce plans for state-of-the-art training facilities.

A’ja Wilson, the best player alive, sold out her first-ever Nike A’One signature shoe drop in less than five minutes. Angel Reese will release her Reebok signature shoe next year. Owners of the reigning champion New York Liberty sold shares at a record valuation of $450 million. Ellie the Elephant, New York’s mascot, is more famous than many professional athletes.

The Atlanta Dream partnered with Cash App and Playa Society, Esther Wallace’s apparel brand, to unveil a custom court design with “Pay Some Respect to Women’s Sports” at center court. Shortly thereafter, the Liberty hosted a SLAM Night celebrating Natasha Cloud gracing the SLAM magazine’s cover.

It’s true: 2024, Clark’s inaugural campaign, saw the WNBA pull its most-watched regular season since 2000 and highest attendance since 2002, and Indiana’s home attendance set a single-season WNBA record. Clark and the Fever became appointment television overnight.

But it didn’t happen in a vacuum. The WNBA had already improved its national viewership by 22% from 2022 to ‘23. Game 5 of the 2024 WNBA Finals between the Liberty and Minnesota Lynx became the most-viewed WNBA Finals game in 25 years, topping out at 3.3 million viewers. The Valkyries sold out their first three home games and became the first WNBA franchise to welcome over 18,000 fans at each of those three games. The aforementioned Clark-less Fever-Sun game on May 30 averaged 851,000 viewers, according to Sports Media Watch, and ION is averaging 555,000 viewers so far this season — a 39% increase from this time last year.

“I’m asked so many times if I’m resentful in any type of way for where the WNBA is now,” Parker added on First Take. “My job was to leave the game better than when I came into it.”

The game is better than ever—so much fun!—because of legends like Parker. This league’s backbone is, and has always been, women who deeply care. The least people can do in return is care enough to look for the truth. Those who do will be rewarded with too many compelling storylines to choose from. And why choose only one?

I guess I’m contributing to the problem by writing this many words to convince a disingenuous group of people of the WNBA’s worth beyond Clark. So, if you’ve read up to this point with a bubbling rage that I’m somehow spitting in Caitlin Clark’s face, this next part is really all you need to know.

“There is no business in bigotry when it comes to the WNBA,” Nneka Ogwumike, WNBPA President and Seattle All-Star forward, said on Jemele Hill’s Spolitics podcast last fall.

The WNBA’s truth is not for you.

The women of the WNBA do not need to prove anything to you. Hell, Caitlin Clark doesn’t even need you.

Watch them or don’t.

They’ll still be there.

They always were.

Megan Armstrong is a freelance journalist, podcast producer, and perpetual content consumer. Her work has appeared in Billboard, Boardroom, Esquire, GQ, GRAMMY.com, NYLON, Teen Vogue, The Kansas City Star, The Hollywood Reporter, UPROXX, and elsewhere.

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