When it comes to star power, Caitlin Clark isn’t just another promising rookie—she’s an economic and cultural force. But with fame, inevitably, comes friction. As Clark gears up for her second WNBA season, the claws are officially out. And this time, the attacks aren’t just coming from opposing defenders. They’re coming from players, pundits, and corners of the internet who seem increasingly disturbed by just how high she’s flying.

Clark and the Indiana Fever are scheduled to appear in 41 nationally televised games this season—more than any other team in the WNBA, and more than any team in the entire NBA. The defending WNBA champions? They’re at 32. The Celtics, winners of the NBA title? Just 34. That’s not a scheduling fluke. It’s a reflection of what fans want to see.

Ticket sales have exploded. Six WNBA franchises have moved home games to NBA-sized venues just to accommodate demand when Clark comes to town. The Chicago Sky, Washington Mystics, and Dallas Wings are among those making the shift. Even teams that initially downplayed her impact are scrambling to cash in on what has become the hottest ticket in professional sports.

THE CLAWS ARE OUT for Caitlin Clark — And It’s Getting UGLY

Yet somehow, this moment of unprecedented opportunity for the WNBA has ignited division. Instead of embracing the attention, some players and fans have responded with skepticism, resentment, and even open hostility. Star player Napheesa Collier, a respected leader in the league, recently questioned the Fever’s primetime exposure, calling it “kind of crazy” that the defending champs weren’t getting more games. But critics were quick to point out that the Liberty—last year’s runner-up—are already receiving more national broadcasts than most NBA franchises.

What players like Collier seem to miss is this: fans aren’t being manipulated into watching Clark. They’re begging for the chance to see her. Her presence guarantees ratings. Broadcasters know it. Advertisers know it. League executives know it. Clark is the engine driving the WNBA’s current boom.
Caitlin Clark Took ESPN Disrespect Personal - YouTube
This isn’t speculation—it’s data. WNBA merchandise sales are up 600%. Clark’s preseason game in Iowa sold out a 15,000-seat arena in minutes. TV ratings for her games routinely outpace other league matchups by factors of two or three. Even preseason exhibitions now attract record-setting viewership.

Her teammates? Benefiting. Her opponents? Benefiting. The league itself? Benefiting. So why the bitterness? Why the subtle digs and coded complaints?

Some critics have resorted to undermining Clark’s popularity by suggesting her success is rooted in race. It’s a divisive narrative, one that erases the hours she’s spent in the gym, the generational talent she brings to the game, and the genuine enthusiasm she’s sparked in fans.

Let’s be clear: nobody is denying the hard work and contributions of players who’ve come before her. But ignoring Clark’s impact doesn’t elevate anyone else—it only dims the light on what could be the league’s biggest breakthrough moment.

Even simple acts of kindness from Clark have been weaponized. When USC’s Juju Watkins went down with a season-ending injury, Clark sent her well-wishes on social media, referring to the young phenom as a “kid.” What followed was a wave of outrage from critics who insisted the term was somehow condescending or racially charged—a stunning reach by any standard.

And yet, Clark’s support from veterans is quietly growing. Lisa Leslie, Cheryl Miller, and even Diana Taurasi have acknowledged her impact. Leslie called her the catalyst for “a new era” of women’s basketball. Taurasi, who once warned that “reality was coming” for Clark, recently reversed course and praised her growth.

The Fever, meanwhile, have stacked the deck. With new additions like DeWanna Bonner, Natasha Howard, and Sophie Cunningham—all players with championship pedigrees—Clark won’t have to shoulder the burden alone. For the first time in her professional career, she’s entering a season with a team that’s not just built to compete—but built to win.

And the WNBA is watching. This isn’t just a second act for Clark—it’s the start of something bigger. A league ready to transform. A team ready to rise. And a player ready to silence the noise not with words, but with wins.

For those still hoping Clark will falter, be warned: she’s not fading. She’s only getting stronger. And whether you cheer her or jeer her, she’s the name everyone’s going to be talking about.