In a provocative interview with The New York Times , Las Vegas Aces star A’ja Wilson reignited a firestorm by claiming that Caitlin Clark’s meteoric rise in the WNBA is “100% about race.” Wilson, a two-time MVP and Olympic gold medalist, argued that Clark’s popularity—marked by sold-out arenas, a $28 million Nike deal, and record-breaking viewership—stems solely from her being white, not her talent.

The comments, echoing similar remarks Wilson made in 2024, have sparked intense backlash, with fans, analysts, and social media users accusing her of fueling division in a league riding a wave of unprecedented growth. As the WNBA grapples with its identity, Wilson’s claims threaten to overshadow the sport’s progress and deepen tensions around race and marketability.

Wilson’s Claims: A Divisive Narrative

Wilson’s Times interview was unapologetic. “It’s 100% about race,” she stated, asserting that Black women in the WNBA, no matter their achievements, are “swept underneath the rug.” She added, “It doesn’t matter what we do as Black women, we’re still going to be ignored, and people just don’t want to see us as marketable.”

The remarks directly targeted Clark, the Indiana Fever guard whose 2024 rookie season transformed the league, drawing 54 million TV viewers and a 48% attendance surge. Wilson’s insinuation—that Clark’s fame is unearned and rooted in racial bias—echoes her 2024 comments, where she suggested white players like Clark get endorsement deals purely for their skin color.

The timing of Wilson’s remarks is telling. They come weeks after Clark’s Nike signature shoe sold out instantly, mirroring the rapid sell-out of Wilson’s own Nike shoe in April 2025. Clark’s 2025 season is poised to build on her rookie exploits—19.2 points, 8.4 assists, and the WNBA’s single-season assist record—while her off-court charisma, from logo threes to fan interactions, has made her a cultural phenomenon. Wilson’s decision to double down on race as the sole driver of Clark’s success has struck many as not just divisive but hypocritical, given her own marketability.

The Caitlin Clark Effect: Talent or Race?

Wilson’s claim that Clark’s popularity is “100% about race” ignores the data. Clark’s impact is measurable: her 2024 preseason game in Iowa drew 1.2 million viewers, outpacing the 850,000 for the WNBA semifinals featuring Wilson’s Aces. Her regular-season games sold out arenas, with 14,998 fans packing her college arena in one instance. Clark’s jersey outsold nearly every athlete’s, per Fanatics, and her 700,000 All-Star fan votes set a record. These aren’t abstract metrics—they reflect a generational talent who plays with flair, drawing comparisons to Steph Curry and Pistol Pete Maravich.

Clark’s marketability transcends race. Her logo threes, no-look passes, and relentless passion resonate with fans of all backgrounds. Kids with homemade signs—Black, white, and everything in between—flock to her games. Her $1 million-plus earnings, driven by Nike, State Farm, and Gatorade deals, reflect her ability to move product, not her skin color. As one X user put it, “Caitlin’s filling seats and breaking records. That’s not race—that’s star power.” Wilson’s narrative, by contrast, dismisses Clark’s 2024 Rookie of the Year award, her triple-doubles, and her role in doubling 2025 draft ticket prices to $99.

Wilson’s Contradiction: Marketability Undermined?

Wilson’s argument unravels under scrutiny. Far from being “swept under the rug,” she is one of the WNBA’s most visible stars. A 2020 No. 1 pick, Wilson led the Aces to a 2022 championship, earned two MVPs, and secured an Olympic gold medal. Her Nike deal, complete with a signature shoe that sold out in minutes, places her among the league’s elite endorsers. She graces magazine covers, stars in WNBA promos, and plays for the league’s most dominant team. If Black athletes were unmarketable, as Wilson claims, why has Nike invested heavily in her? Why is her name synonymous with excellence?

The hypocrisy frustrates fans. Wilson’s claim of victimhood clashes with her success, undermining her credibility. “You can’t cry ‘I’m not marketable’ while cashing Nike checks and headlining ads,” one X post read. Critics argue that Wilson’s focus on race detracts from her own achievements and poisons the league’s narrative. Her comments also ignore the success of Black athletes like Serena Williams, who earned $95 million in endorsements, or Michael Jordan, whose Jordan brand generates $4 billion annually. LeBron James, Shaquille O’Neal, and Naomi Osaka further debunk the notion that Black athletes can’t secure lucrative deals.

The WNBA’s Identity Crisis

Wilson’s remarks expose a deeper tension within the WNBA. The league, long a platform for social justice, is at a crossroads. Clark’s arrival has brought mainstream attention—sold-out arenas, prime-time TV slots, and a surge in sponsorships. Yet, some veterans, including Wilson and DiJonai Carrington, seem resentful of her spotlight. Carrington’s 2024 comments about Clark’s “privilege” and Wilson’s repeated race-based critiques suggest a refusal to embrace the new fans Clark has drawn. This internal conflict risks alienating the very audience the WNBA needs to sustain its growth.

The backlash on X was swift. #SupportCaitlin trended alongside posts calling Wilson’s comments “petty” and “divisive.” One user wrote, “A’ja’s a beast, but saying Clark’s fame is all race is just wrong. She’s hurting the league with this.” Fans point to Clark’s humility—she signs autographs until her hands ache and deflects praise to teammates—as a contrast to Wilson’s rhetoric. The irony is stark: Clark’s rise has boosted the entire WNBA, with higher salaries and bigger marketing budgets. As one analyst noted, “Caitlin’s tide is lifting A’ja’s boat, but she’s too busy sinking it.”

The Cost of Division

Wilson’s comments aren’t just about Clark—they’re a symptom of a broader crisis. The WNBA, once a niche league with 450,000-viewer games, is now a cultural force, thanks to Clark’s 1.2 million-viewer preseason draw and 54 million total viewers in 2024. But instead of celebrating this, some players frame Clark’s success as a zero-sum game, where her popularity diminishes Black athletes. This mindset, as one X user put it, “is toxic and wrong—success isn’t a pie.”

The rhetoric also risks alienating fans. Casual viewers, drawn by Clark’s flair, are now wading through headlines about race and resentment. Postgame beefs and activist-like rhetoric from players like Wilson and Carrington paint the WNBA as a battleground, not a sport. “I came for basketball, not identity politics,” one fan tweeted. If this continues, the league could squander its momentum, reverting to the low ratings and financial struggles of its past.

A Path Forward: Unity Over Division

The WNBA stands at a pivotal moment. It can embrace Clark’s spark—her ability to draw millions—and unite behind a shared goal of growth. Or it can sink into infighting, letting jealousy and racial narratives derail progress. Wilson, as a leader, has a choice: celebrate her own success (MVPs, championships, Nike deals) and welcome Clark’s contributions, or continue framing herself as a victim, alienating fans and sponsors.

Clark, for her part, remains focused. Her 2025 season, under coach Stephanie White, is expected to elevate her game further, with deeper shooting and stronger leadership. Her response to Wilson’s comments, if any, will likely mirror her 2024 approach: let the stats speak. Fans, meanwhile, are rallying, with #100PercentClark trending on X. “Caitlin’s my role model,” one young fan posted. “She’s awesome, and it’s not about color—it’s about basketball.”

Wilson’s attack on Clark isn’t just misguided—it’s a self-inflicted wound. By reducing Clark’s success to race, she undermines the WNBA’s unity and risks tarnishing her own legacy. The league needs stars like Wilson and Clark to coexist, not compete in a narrative of resentment. As the 2025 season looms, the WNBA must decide: will it rise together, or tear itself apart? The answer lies in moving beyond division and focusing on what matters—the game.