Stephen A. Smith has never been one to tiptoe around controversy, and this week he made that crystal clear with a scathing critique of the WNBA’s leadership and veteran players over their handling of Caitlin Clark, arguably the league’s most transformative star in decades. In a viral monologue aired on ESPN, Smith did more than voice concern—he issued a full-throated warning. His central message: the WNBA is fumbling its golden opportunity, and much of the blame lies with how it has allowed gatekeeping figures like Sheryl Swoopes to influence the narrative around Clark.
Smith didn’t hold back. He laid into both WNBA Commissioner Kathy Engelbert and high-profile veterans who he said are “hesitant and resistant” to fully embrace Clark’s impact. “Higher television ratings, higher attendance—that doesn’t come courtesy of a league,” Smith said. “It comes courtesy of the players that play in the league. And in her case, she was the most popular. Which means she could have helped your bottom line. Which means you should have seen that from day one and maximized it. But you didn’t.”
What makes Clark’s case unique is how fast and how widely she’s captured attention. A rookie with the Indiana Fever, Clark’s impact is already measurable in ways that go beyond statistics. With 41 out of 44 of her games being nationally televised, and teams moving matchups to NBA arenas just to accommodate demand, Clark has become the kind of draw the league has never seen before. Yet despite this, the WNBA has failed to create an infrastructure to support or celebrate her rise.
Stephen A’s outrage was sparked not just by what’s happening, but what’s not happening. There was no big press conference when Clark won Rookie of the Year. No media blitz. Just a phone call during practice in Connecticut before a playoff game. Contrast that with the way other players receive their honors—full ceremony, press availability, and media coverage. For Smith and many others, the message was clear: Clark is being treated as a problem, not a gift.
And then there’s Sheryl Swoopes. The Hall of Famer and three-time WNBA MVP has been consistently dismissive of Clark’s accomplishments. She has gone on record questioning Clark’s legitimacy, her media hype, and even her scoring records. What’s more troubling is not just the critique itself but the pattern of minimizing Clark’s influence. Smith pointed out that Swoopes, despite knowing the game at the highest level, has chosen to leave Clark’s name out of key conversations intentionally. “You know basketball better than most men who’ve played the game. There is no way in hell you accidentally left Caitlin Clark’s name out of your list of Indiana Fever contributors,” Smith said. “Stop it. You know that.”
It’s not just commentary—it’s culture. Smith identified a deeper issue brewing beneath the surface: a reluctance from league veterans and leadership to share the spotlight. He described it as “counterproductive jealousy,” arguing that Clark is not only the best thing to happen to the WNBA in years, but perhaps ever. And yet, rather than surrounding her with support, the league seems to be treating her as a disruption to the status quo.
What should be an open embrace has instead become a cold reception, and the data shows the consequences. Clark is generating unprecedented attention. Her jersey sales, social media metrics, and live game attendance have all exploded. Corporate sponsors have flocked to her, and she’s graced magazine covers, won national awards, and even broken records in the trading card market. A Caitlin Clark card recently sold for $366,000, surpassing Serena Williams’ previous record. Yet the WNBA’s internal response to all this has felt muted.
Commissioner Kathy Engelbert has added fuel to the fire with her public appearances. In interviews on 60 Minutes and CNBC’s Power Lunch, Engelbert offered vague corporate talking points and failed to address the fundamental issues fans are demanding answers on. When asked directly about Clark’s impact, Engelbert defaulted to the line, “No league is ever about one player.” Technically true, but strategically tone-deaf. In an era where athletes like Serena Williams, Simone Biles, and even Tom Brady have defined their sports, denying Clark her place at the center of the WNBA’s renaissance seems both foolish and short-sighted.
Meanwhile, Clark continues to take physical punishment on the court with little to no protection from officials. The inconsistency in refereeing has become another flashpoint. Clark has received technical fouls for actions that would never be called against league veterans. One viral moment saw her hit with a technical for slapping the post out of frustration after missing a shot. No warning, just a penalty. It was a moment that highlighted a growing double standard in how Clark is officiated.
Compare that to similar incidents in the NBA, and the imbalance becomes glaring. NBA stars are often given the benefit of the doubt, especially when they are marquee attractions. Yet Clark, who is arguably the most significant needle-mover in the WNBA today, has been offered none of that leeway.
Smith also touched on how the league is missing the mark with storytelling. Clark isn’t just an athlete—she’s a narrative. She comes with a built-in audience from her days at Iowa, where she drew record-shattering viewership during the NCAA tournament. Her rivalry with Angel Reese helped fuel an entire wave of renewed interest in women’s basketball. These aren’t just viral moments—they are the foundation for long-term fan engagement. And yet, the WNBA hasn’t built on that momentum. No docuseries. No real-time behind-the-scenes coverage. Just highlight reels and press releases.
For Smith, this isn’t just about one player—it’s about the league’s future. Clark represents a rare phenomenon: a star who attracts mainstream attention without needing controversy, scandal, or gimmicks. She’s changing the WNBA’s relevance in real-time, and the league’s leadership should be doing everything in their power to amplify that effect.
Instead, the WNBA is walking a tightrope of politics, tradition, and misplaced pride. Veterans like Swoopes want to protect the legacy they built. Leadership wants to avoid putting all their eggs in one basket. But as Smith so bluntly pointed out, the eggs are already in that basket. Everyone knows it. Fans, sponsors, networks. The only question is whether the WNBA will realize it in time.
Clark’s rise should be a unifying moment. A rising tide that lifts all boats. But so far, the league’s response has been fragmented, and its leadership hesitant. The opportunity is still there, but it won’t last forever.
Smith’s words were not an attack on the WNBA—they were a plea. A call to recognize a moment in history and act accordingly. To set aside personal bias, institutional ego, and outdated thinking, and finally embrace the star that could take the league to the next level.
The WNBA doesn’t need to manufacture hype. Caitlin Clark is already delivering it. All the league has to do now is keep up.
