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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Commentary: The ugly discourse surrounding Caitlin Clark

The Indiana Fever's Caitlin Clark, left, battles for position against the Chicago Sky's Angel Reese (5) a June 1 game at Gainbridge Fieldhouse in Indianapolis.   (Tribune News Service)
By Candace Buckner Washington Post

We should all protect Caitlin Clark. She is the white knight galloping in to save the Dark Continent known as the WNBA, the singular star uplifting an entire women’s sports movement that only now matters because men are watching. She is the No. 1 draft pick learning the rigors of a professional league, but doing so with the same lean and slightly sinewy 152-pound frame from her college days – every time she’s double-teamed and trapped by grown women who refuse to view her as anything other than a scoring threat, the physical contact takes on a greater meaning.

And that’s mostly because she is a minefield, whose explosions are triggered by our worst inclinations. Although she has unprecedented power, Caitlin Clark, somehow, is the one in need of our protection.

Every time the Indiana Fever takes the floor, it seems, Clark is a target. Which would be expected, because her range starts from the moment she enters the arena, and any opposing guard smart enough to have pored over Clark’s college highlights knows that she better play defense for all 94 feet. And yet, when Chicago Sky guard Chennedy Carter committed a flagrant foul by shoulder-checking Clark on Saturday, she became the subject of an ugly discourse that assumes Clark’s frailty – and accuses her rivals of villainy.

The competitive, one-point win by the Fever over the Sky was overshadowed by the physical and verbal back-and-forth between two players. The sequence eventually ended with Carter shedding her good sense and pulling a move that Draymond Green would probably scoff at as lightweight. The fourth-year guard out of Texas A&M did cross the line of fair play. Ever since, however, the moment has been presented as proof that WNBA veterans don’t like Clark and are intentionally roughing her up.

But that’s an insincere way of putting it. Since the usual suspects would prefer spewing their coded language, let’s be more specific: The moment is being magnified as incriminating evidence that brutish Black women are jealous of the league’s supposed savior, and therefore would rather manhandle her than show appreciation.

Every layer peeled from the Carter-Clark episode reveals not only the shallowness of sports commentators when they’re forced to discuss women’s sports – Uh-oh! Catfight! Rarrhhh rarhhhhh! – but also the divisiveness so quickly seized upon in our society. Clark can’t simply be a rookie going through her Welcome to the WNBA phase, something that even the league itself leaned into with its tongue-in-cheek commercial aimed at its newcomers, both the ones on the court and those in front of television screens.

Because Clark is the linchpin drawing sellout crowds and groundbreaking ratings – the marketable star with the agreeable skin color and sexuality – her plight carries a sympathetic bent with her most loyal audience.

They don’t view her as the incredibly fierce woman who has no problem imploring a ref to “call a … foul!” Nor simply as the deserving honoree of the WNBA’s rookie of the month, who despite leading the league with 5.4 turnovers a game and posting one of the lowest field goal percentage at .357, has still put up an impressive offensive line of 15.6 points and 6.4 assists per game. Her most compulsive fans have treated her struggles as cause to protest. Clark is only getting to the free-throw line 4.4 times per game, and now they would really like to speak to a supervisor.

I learned how swiftly the “Clarkies” can turn an innocent observation into an offense, and how dicey it can be to cover Clark when she has a subpar game. After Clark’s much-hyped professional debut, I wrote that Connecticut Sun guard DiJonai Carrington, a Black woman, “stripped her clean at half court.” Yet a male reader corrected me in an email that no, no, Clark was instead “cross; checked [sic] by a so-called top defensive opponent like in the NHL.” Another reader accused me of being “racial” – which I assume is better than being “racist” – because I dared to note Carrington’s defense.

Carter’s flagrant foul, upgraded by the league the next day, only inflamed the hysteria from those either blinded by their affection for Clark, or too ignorant to understand how heated competition works.

The argument that Fever teammates should stand up for the rookie is at least based in the realm of sports, like Buffalo Bills quarterback Josh Allen needing a Mitch Morse to body-slam anyone who messes with the franchise, or the entire Edmonton Oilers roster getting called out for not protecting superstar Connor McDavid. However, those piggybacking on Charles Barkley’s ramble that fouls against Clark somehow prove that players are being “petty” are better off sticking to (male) sports.

Consider what that argument implies. That Clark has elevated the league so much that competitors, paid professionals, should send Clark thank-you notes before every tip-off, then spend the rest of the game ushering her to the paint for open layups. How many other athletes, in the history of mankind, have ever been criticized for competing too hard? And who on Earth would consider Barkley, who once told a female reporter, ‘I don’t hit women, but if I did, I would hit you,’ a thought leader on women? Or as he called WNBA players, “these girls.”

Others have uttered worse. Across social media, Carter has been called a “thug,” her appearance lampooned and her shoulder check viewed as not simply a flagrant foul committed on a basketball court in downtown Indianapolis, but an “assault” perpetrated on the southside of Chicago.

Clark’s fans are engaging in these bigoted narratives, but so are the alarmists who have nothing better to do than to ruin women’s basketball. It would be naïve to think that Clark hasn’t noticed this messiness swirling on social media and in major news outlets. She’s a pro, she has agency. And power. She is not a minor, but rather an adult woman. And if this narrative that pits her against her Black peers makes her uncomfortable, then she needs to speak up and say so. Same goes for the Fever organization – as soon as those in charge are done using their platform to complain that their golden ticket is getting bruised up.

They’d rather paint Clark as the victim of a silent whistle, allowing a growing cult of casuals to scream while storming the court and trashing up the conversation. The angriest of these fans are not here for the basketball, they just want to protect Caitlin Clark.

Just like we all should, apparently. Those in media who create lazy headlines, desperate for your clicks; the male pundits who suddenly want to share their passionate opinions about the WNBA; and the players, in a predominantly Black league, who are being asked to show deference to this White rookie’s popularity. But Clark doesn’t need to be coddled, especially when her army of supporters are the ones throwing a tantrum.