Women’s basketball has emerged as a national sport, but an undercurrent among fans threatens that standing. Don’t overshadow the game with off-court noise.
Women’s basketball has finally arrived at its defining moment. Much like the NBA’s rise in the 1980s–fueled by the fierce rivalry between Magic Johnson and Larry Bird–a narrative shaped by not only talent but race, region, and personality, women’s basketball has been quietly and steadily building its cultural crescendo. That crescendo erupted onto the national scene between 2017 and 2023 in college basketball, and the ripple effects are now reaching the WNBA in powerful ways.
This movement began with record-breaking talent and dynastic dominance.
USC’s Dawn Staley (Vasha Hunt-Imagn Images)
—Kelsey Plum set the all-time scoring record in 2017 before winning Rookie of the Year in the WNBA.
–South Carolina, under Dawn Staley, built a dynasty, winning titles in 2017, 2022, and 2024.
—A’ja Wilson was drafted first overall in 2018 and cemented her legacy early–so much so that by the time her fellow Gamecock Aaliyah Boston entered the league in 2023, Wilson was already in the GWOAT (Greatest Woman of All Time) conversation. Both women earned Rookie of the Year honors, reinforcing the powerhouse status of South Carolina’s program.
–Meanwhile, Arike Ogunbowale delivered one of the most legendary NCAA tournament performances in Notre Dame history, and then led the WNBA in scoring just a year later.
–In the professional league, the Seattle Storm and Las Vegas Aces captured four championships between 2018 and 2023. The Aces, led by a dominant trio—A’ja Wilson, Chelsea Gray, and Kelsey Plum—won back-to-back titles and drove a surge in viewership and cultural relevance, thanks in part to their performances and personalities.
But even as all this greatness unfolded, Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese were building their legacies in the background. Before the national titles and headlines, they had already faced each other three times from 2021 to 2022. Caitlin was smashing records at Iowa while Angel Reese, then at Maryland, was helping her team win Big Ten titles. Later, she led LSU to a national championship.
The 2023 NCAA Tournament became the tipping point. Both Clark and Reese emerged as superstars. Clark’s fearless play and fiery trash talk earned her the nickname The Clapback Queen. Her “you can’t see me” gesture, done mid-game in the heat of battle, was a highlight that fans adored. When Angel Reese mirrored the same gesture after LSU’s championship win, pointing to her ring finger, it should’ve been received as a celebration of earned greatness. Instead, it sparked controversy. Some tried to turn that championship moment into something ugly–racial and divisive. But in truth, what we saw was exactly what we celebrate in men’s sports: high-level competition, emotional triumph, and unforgettable rivalries.
What Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese gave us was history.
That history lit a fuse. The following season was even bigger. Clark’s Iowa defeated Reese’s LSU in a highly anticipated rematch, bringing catharsis to her fan base. So much so that many didn’t care that Iowa lost in the championship to South Carolina. Her status as the No. 1 draft pick was inevitable. She earned Rookie of the Year and made the playoffs in her first season. In storybook terms, 2023 was Caitlin’s “1980s Jordan” arc—talented, electric, and on the cusp. 2024 may very well be her “1990s Jordan” arc: the rise to dominance.
All of this is great for the game when we let it be. But some haven’t been able to leave it at that.
The “Bad Apple Factory”—a vocal, toxic sector of any fanbase—continues to distort the narrative. They twisted Angel Reese’s celebration into villainy. They cry foul when defenders play Clark hard, as if strong defense equals hatred. They claimed conspiracies when Clark didn’t make Team USA in her rookie year, or when refs don’t blow the whistle every time she drives. These attitudes are not only false—they’re corrosive. This doesn’t help the WNBA. It doesn’t help women’s sports, and it doesn’t even help Caitlin Clark.
Caitlin doesn’t need a cushion. She’s already one of the best to do it at her age, and her career should be allowed to unfold naturally, like Michael Jordan’s did. MJ had to take his lumps before ascending. So will Caitlin. And like MJ, her greatness will be forged in competition, not protected from it.
It’s not about jealousy. It’s not about hate. It’s about competition. The women of the WNBA are elite athletes. They don’t “bow down” to greatness—they challenge it. That’s how sports work.
If you love the NBA, then love the WNBA for the same reasons: rivalries, competition, trash talk, story arcs, and earned respect. Don’t make up fake beefs. Don’t overshadow games with off-court noise. Promote the games. Celebrate the players. And above all—let the game speak.
Watch around the league. Form your own opinions. Don’t let ESPN brainwash you. Separate yourself from the Bad Apple Factory. If you’re not racist, don’t be offended by racism being called out. Think, what would Caitlin do?
