Caitlin Clark And Angel Reese Helped Drive Historic Growth, But Media Companies, Political Figures And Online Platforms Are Profiting From A Racial Culture War That Leaves Black Players Paying The Price
The WNBA is experiencing the kind of attention women’s basketball spent decades demanding. Television audiences are growing, sponsorships are increasing and more WNBA players are becoming household names.
But the league’s rise has exposed something far more sinister: Women’s sports remain trapped at the intersection of sexism, racism and morally compromised institutions. Black women, despite building much of the WNBA’s history and culture, are bearing the harshest consequences of that growth.
As we have long known, sports remain a male-dominated industry. Historically, women athletes have received less coverage, lower salaries and fewer endorsement opportunities, even when they outperform their male counterparts or attract substantial audiences.
Although that gap has begun to narrow, women’s sports accounted for an average of just 15% of sports-media coverage across television broadcasts, streaming services, social media and digital publications in 2022—nearly triple earlier estimates. By comparison, previous long-term studies found that women’s sports received only 5.7% of coverage on ESPN’s “SportsCenter” and 5.1% of television sports-news coverage through 2021.
Race Widens the Coverage Gap
Adding race to the equation widens the disparity even further.
The 2026 WNBA season began without a single Black woman serving as a head coach, despite the league’s predominantly Black player population. A 2020 study of more than 550 WNBA articles from ESPN, CBS Sports and Sports Illustrated found that white players received more than twice as many mentions as Black players. Black athletes won 80% of the league’s major postseason awards, yet the three most-covered players were white.
A’ja Wilson, who won the 2020 Most Valuable Player award and led the Las Vegas Aces to the Finals, received only half as much coverage as Sabrina Ionescu, who played three games before suffering a season-ending injury.
The disparity existed well before Caitlin Clark entered the league. Clark, however, became the accelerant.
Clark has been repeatedly positioned as the face, future and even savior. She secured a reported eight-year Nike agreement worth up to $28 million and a signature basketball deal with Wilson Sporting Goods before winning a WNBA championship or individual league award.
A’ja Wilson had already become a college national champion, a three-time WNBA champion, a league MVP and an Olympic gold medalist before receiving comparable signature-shoe recognition with Nike. Wilson has said the difference cannot be separated from race.
“I think it’s a huge thing. I think a lot of people may say it’s not about Black and white, but to me, it is,” Wilson said when asked about the race element in Clark’s popularity in 2024. “It really is because you can be top notch at what you are as a Black woman, but yet maybe that’s something that people don’t want to see.
“They don’t see it as marketable, so it doesn’t matter how hard I work. It doesn’t matter what we all do as Black women, we’re still going to be swept underneath the rug. That’s why it boils my blood when people say it’s not about race because it is.”
The “Clark and Reese Effect” Creates Historic Growth.
There is no doubt that the “Clark and Reese Effect” has helped transform the league economically.
Clark’s and Reese’s rookie seasons produced historic television ratings, ticket demand and merchandise sales. Economist Ryan Brewer estimated that Clark accounted for approximately 26.5% of the WNBA’s economic activity during her rookie season and suggested that her total impact could eventually surpass $1 billion.
The surge pushed the WNBA into a historic financial era, activating revenue sharing for the first time in 2025 and leading into an 11-year, $2.2 billion media-rights deal with Disney, Amazon and NBCUniversal beginning in 2026.
It also helped produce a seven-year collective bargaining agreement that raised the team salary cap from $1.5 million to $7 million, projected average salaries of $583,000 and maximum contracts of $1.4 million in its first year, with more than $1 billion in player salaries and benefits expected over the life of the deal.
But instead of allowing basketball to remain the central product, private, for-profit companies and powerful organizations often exploit our negativity bias. People pay more attention—and generate more engagement—around bad news, such as racial tensions or political outrage, than good news, like the accomplishments of a Black WNBA player.
From Basketball Rivalry to Racial Culture War
The racial aspect became especially visible through Clark’s rivalry with Angel Reese. Before entering the league, during the 2023 NCAA championship game, Reese made the “you can’t see me” gesture toward Clark and was branded classless and arrogant. Clark had made the same gesture earlier in the tournament and was praised as “fiercely competitive.”
That double standard followed both players into the WNBA, where now hard fouls and routine competition have become fuel for a racial culture war. From DiJonai Carrington, Alyssa Thomas, and Chelsea Gray were portrayed as jealous, bitter or intent on harming Clark. Whenever Clark was fouled, online commentators rushed to frame the incident as evidence that Black women resented a successful white star.
Thomas and members of her family received racist abuse and death threats after Thomas made contact with Clark during a game. Gray was called the N-word and told to “shut up and dribble” after a disputed play involving Clark.
Toronto Tempo coach Sandy Brondello was suspended after referring to Angel Reese as a “protected species” during an argument over officiating. Brondello apologized and acknowledged that the phrase carried a dehumanizing impact when directed at a Black woman.
Meanwhile, 11 Republican members of Congress demanded that the WNBA explain how it was protecting Clark. The lawmakers raised the possibility of federal civil-rights action and suggested that physical play against her might be racially motivated.
The MAGA-ally letter shows how the Trump administration’s rollback against diversity, equity and inclusion has produced a glaring contradiction of political leaders that were willing to invoke civil rights to defend a white player from basketball fouls while Black players received racial slurs and death threats for competing against her.
During a 2024 interview after being named Time’s Athlete of the Year, Clark said, “I want to say I’ve earned every single thing, but as a white person, there is privilege.”
“A lot of those players in the league that have been really good have been Black players. This league has kind of been built on them.” She also called for brands and companies to partner with more Black WNBA players.
The “White Hope”
Sports historian Adam Berg describes Clark as a “Polysemic White Hope,” a figure whose image holds several meanings at once. She can represent women’s progress and extraordinary athletic achievement while also benefiting from a culture that has historically presented white femininity as safer and more marketable than Black womanhood.
With all that being said, the WNBA’s current turmoil poses a larger question, will the league protect their players responsible for its success, or will it continue profiting from the division surrounding them?
That profit motive may leave little incentive to calm the conflict. However, as pundits and Republican lawmakers turn players into political symbols and treat their in-play actions as evidence to push their agenda, the cost will falls on the athletes, especially Black women.
Until then, good night and good luck.
