PHILADELPHIA – Women’s basketball and women’s sports in general have a hero in their midst. Neither cherishes her enough. Caitlin Clark isn’t just a spunky, trash-talking rookie guard who plays for the Indiana Fever and, like Steph Curry, launches ICBMs with less conscience than the crazy brigadier general in “Dr. Strangelove.” Through no contrivance of her own, she has become iconic. A female icon for the sporting world. An American icon for her country … which she will not be allowed to represent. Clark was not named to the U.S. Olympic women’s basketball team. This, in the same fortnight in which she was flagrantly fouled frequently and violently enough that a legion of numskulls drew comparisons to the Neanderthal NBA of the 1980s and 1990s – an NBA that the NBA has been trying to outgrow for the past two decades.
They have spited their noseless faces. They have bitten their feeding hand. They are ignorant of the buttered side of their bread. This is so dumb. Clark should not be beaten and hidden, like my golf game. She should be protected and displayed, like a priceless work of art. It was so easy.
The WNBA should have sent a message. The message: Knock it off. It should have suspended Chicago Sky enforcer Chennedy Carter, the most egregious assailant thus far, who hip-checked Clark to the floor in a game June 1. Carter could have appealed her suspension from one of the chartered flights whisking her hither and thither; the WNBA is flying private for the first time this year, thanks in no small part to the financial windfall that is Caitlin Clark. USA Basketball should have sent a message and named her to the squad.
The message: She’s bigger than all of us, and we will profit from her presence. AT&T, Microsoft and the three alcohol vendors (yeah ladies) must be super stoked that the most popular athlete in the richest country will not be representing their brands this summer. Nike, an Olympic sponsor that also just signed Clark to a $28 million deal, is getting shafted twice. It’s probably ecstatic she won’t be wearing her signature shoe in front of a global audience in the most fashion-conscious city on the planet. The WNBA and Team USA, like so many “traditionalists,” just don’t seem to get it:
This is the WNBA’s big chance. SHE IS HER Women’s basketball finally has a crossover superstar. It has, maybe, a six-month window. The Caitlin Clark Phenomenon is fresh in people’s minds. They should saturate our consciousness with all things Caitlin (no, not Jenner). This is their best window to sell season tickets and WNBA jerseys and Team USA sweatshirts; their best chance to sell to the world their magnificently talented league and their magnificently entertaining game. It doesn’t matter if Clark isn’t the most magnificent player in that game. She’s the most important player, maybe in the history of the league. Consider: She drew more than 20,000 fans Friday to a game played in Washington to an arena that holds five times more people than the Mystics’ usual home court, where the game originally was scheduled. This was the WNBA’s biggest regular-season crowd in 25 years, and those fans didn’t show up to witness great basketball. The competing teams had three combined wins and 20 combined losses.
Clark is that big. For the past two years, despite the dominance of golfer Nelly Korda and the brilliance of reigning WNBA MVP Breanna Stewart and the continued existence of the greatest gymnast in history, Simone Biles, it was Clark who captured the hearts of American sports fans, playing an electric game out of backwater Iowa City. Why? Because she’s audacious and authentic, crass and efficient. She owns her faults and fights her own battles. In other words, she’s the quintessential American.
