Bias on and off the court

Caitlin Clark is to the WNBA what Larry Bird was to the NBA in his heyday. Not only is she the face of a franchise, but also one of the most recognized faces of an entire elite pro basketball league.

The difference is, the Boston Celtics and the NBA knew how to capitalize on Bird’s star power. The Indiana Fever and the WNBA seem to be doing everything in their power to hide Clark under a bushel—much to their detriment.

When the Celtics drafted Bird in 1979, he was something of an anomaly. In a league filled with black players from urban areas, Bird was a white country boy—aka “the Hick from French Lick” (his Indiana hometown). Though he was not the NBA’s only white player, his dominance against black players certainly made him stand out as much as his skin color did.

In fact, from the get-go, Bird’s jaw-dropping skill set won the respect of his black peers. And his penchant for trash talk seemingly endeared him to them—especially since he could clearly back it up on the court.

Like Bird, Clark has jaw-dropping basketball skills, but her experience on the professional level appears to be radically different. Never mind that the white Fever superstar, who has all but single-handedly increased league television viewership, ticket sales, and player salaries, has openly expressed her admiration for the WNBA stars who preceded her: Sheryl Swoopes, Lisa Leslie, Cynthia Cooper, Dawn Staley, and Maya Moore—all of whom are black. During an appearance on TV’s Saturday Night Live last year, Clark called them “the women who kicked down the door so I could walk inside.” That doesn’t seem to matter to players in a league that is 80% black and strongly seems to resent white players on the court.

Nor does it seem to matter to the teams themselves and to the networks tasked with promoting the league.

Why?

I can sum it up in two words: the concept of white privilege. Now, I’m by no means suggesting that Clark is where she is because of privilege. There is simply a false perception that she and other white players don’t deserve their success. That is extended also to Clark’s successor as the league’s No. 1 draft pick, Dallas Wings guard Paige Bueckers.

It’s why, in separate interviews with TIME Magazine, Clark and Bueckers have claimed they’ve benefited from white privilege. Perhaps they sincerely believe that their black sisters in the WNBA haven’t received the media coverage or marketing opportunities they deserve. However, whenever they talk about white privilege, Clark and Bueckers almost sound like they’ve been bullied into kowtowing to the woke mob—and they’re saying it because their livelihoods, if not their physical health, depends on it.

I’m reluctant to compare Clark to Jackie Robinson lest I spark outrage. But given that Major League Baseball took virtually no action to protect the black ballplayer who broke its color barrier in 1947 from racist invective and worse, the WNBA’s refusal to protect Clark from similarly ugly treatment makes the comparison in some ways apt.

Apparently, it’s not white privilege but minority privilege and LGBTQ privilege that exists in the WNBA. That’s the message the WNBA has sent with its failure to protect the player who now serves as its most famous face. If the league wishes to avoid alienating new fans and thereby forfeiting the billions in revenue that Clark has the potential to bring in, it needs to change its messaging—fast.