Caitlin Clark Takes Another Hit—But It’s the WNBA’s Silence That’s Hurting Players Most

Just when it seemed the Caitlin Clark controversy had reached its peak, the Indiana Fever rookie took another physical blow—this time from Las Vegas Aces guard Jackie Young. The elbow to Clark’s jaw, which occurred during a heated Wednesday night matchup, sent both players crashing to the floor. The referees reviewed the incident, only to dismiss it as incidental contact, and no foul was called.

It wasn’t just the hit that stung—it was what it represented. In a league that’s finally drawing massive attention thanks to breakout stars like Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese, there’s growing concern that the WNBA is more focused on harnessing rivalries for revenue than protecting its players from physical harm and online harassment.

At the center of that storm is WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert, who’s now facing intense scrutiny for her response—or lack thereof—to escalating tensions, racially charged commentary, and threats directed at players.

In a recent CNBC interview, Engelbert was asked directly about the toxic behavior surrounding the Clark-Reese rivalry: “What do you do as a league when fanbases are saying some very uncharitable, even threatening things about your players—when racism, sexism, and homophobia enter the conversation?”

Rather than confronting the issue head-on, Engelbert pivoted to marketing. “One thing that’s great about the league right now,” she said, “is that we sit at the intersection of sport, fashion, music, and culture. There’s no more apathy—everyone cares. It’s a little like the Bird–Magic moment from 1979. You need rivalries. That’s what makes people watch.”

To many, that answer felt like a dodge—and a dangerous one. The comparison to the NBA’s legendary rivalry between Magic Johnson and Larry Bird minimized the current situation, which is less about competition and more about race, identity, and player safety.

Shortly after, the Women’s National Basketball Players Association (WNBPA) issued a firm response. Executive Director Terri Jackson released a statement that read in part:

“There is absolutely no place in sport or in life for the vile hate, racist language, homophobic comments and misogynistic attacks our players are facing on social media. This is not about rivalries or iconic personalities fueling a business model. This kind of toxic fandom should never be tolerated or left unchecked. It demands immediate action—and frankly, should have been addressed long ago.”

This isn’t an isolated concern. Numerous players have spoken out about the abusive messages and threats they receive online. Angel Reese, in a recent interview, revealed that she’s been sent AI-generated explicit images and death threats. Diamond DeShields, a player who overcame a spinal tumor that once left her temporarily paralyzed, has seen fans mock her condition postgame, even wishing her dead. And Aaliyah Boston, unable to cope with the online vitriol, chose to completely unplug from social media.

In response to the backlash, Engelbert eventually released a brief follow-up statement online, saying:

“There is absolutely no place for hate or racism of any kind in the WNBA or anywhere else.”

But for many players and fans, the damage was already done. The Commissioner’s initial failure to unequivocally denounce racism and hate speech—particularly in a league built by and for Black women and LGBTQ+ athletes—felt like a betrayal.

Las Vegas Aces forward Alysha Clark summed it up best:

“At the end of the day, we’re human beings. We’re not just marketing tools. We deserve respect and safety—on the court and off.”

Brianna Stewart, another WNBA star, expressed disappointment in Engelbert’s comments and emphasized that the league must take a stronger stand on inclusivity and safety. “Yes, Clark and Reese are helping grow the league. But when race becomes a dividing line and fans begin to pick sides based on skin color, that’s not growth. That’s danger,” Stewart said.

Indeed, the league’s success is undeniable. Viewership has skyrocketed. Attendance is climbing. Sponsorships are pouring in. But the cost is beginning to show.

Clark, a white rookie phenom from Iowa, has been elevated to superstar status overnight. Reese, a Black powerhouse from LSU, is often vilified in the same headlines that praise Clark. That racial dynamic hasn’t gone unnoticed by fans or players. And instead of setting a standard of respect and protection, many argue the league is fanning the flames for clicks and contracts.

The WNBA must ask itself: what kind of league does it want to be?

Is it one that encourages healthy competition while fiercely defending its athletes from hate? Or is it one that treats player rivalries as revenue streams, regardless of the personal cost?

Caitlin Clark didn’t just take a hit on Wednesday night—she became the latest symbol of a league grappling with its identity. Players are asking for more than pay equity and media exposure. They want to feel safe. They want to be respected. And they want a commissioner who will stand with them—not above them.

Engelbert has done impressive work growing the business side of the WNBA, no one denies that. But leadership isn’t just about deals and ratings—it’s about values. And in moments like this, values matter most.

As the season rolls on, fans will keep watching. The drama will keep unfolding. But until the league starts prioritizing player dignity over marketing narratives, the victories off the court may continue to come at too high a cost.