Monica McNutt found herself in the middle of a firestorm after a recent appearance on ESPN where she suggested that Caitlin Clark’s popularity with young fans was primarily driven by race. But the real shock came when she extended that idea to include children, implying that little girls were drawn to Clark not because of her skills or accomplishments but because of her skin color. The backlash was swift and relentless, as fans and commentators from all backgrounds pushed back against what many saw as a reckless and unnecessary injection of identity politics into a moment that should be about celebrating women’s basketball.
The core of McNutt’s statement was that Clark, being a white girl from the Midwest, represented something that a lot of people connected with—and not always for the right reasons. But the problem wasn’t just that she made this point. It was how she framed it. By bringing children into the argument, McNutt crossed a line that turned what might have been a provocative discussion into something deeply offensive for many viewers. She took the innocence of youth fandom and used it as a backdrop to suggest unconscious racial bias, undermining the sincerity of kids who simply admire a great basketball player.
To imply that young fans cheering for Clark are motivated by race instead of genuine admiration for her skill set is both condescending and unfair. Basketball, particularly at the professional level, has always drawn fans based on excellence. Players like Diana Taurasi, Candace Parker, and Sue Bird didn’t build massive followings because of their race—they did it through dominance, charisma, and consistency. Clark is following in that tradition. Her explosive style of play, deep three-point range, court vision, and relentless competitiveness are what have captivated audiences—not the color of her skin.
Clark’s popularity didn’t begin in the WNBA. She was breaking records and drawing record-setting TV audiences at the University of Iowa long before she ever turned pro. Her games routinely topped the charts in terms of viewership, and arenas across the country sold out to catch a glimpse of her playing. If race was the primary factor, why didn’t previous white WNBA players spark this same reaction? Stars like Sue Bird, Becky Hammon, and Kelsey Plum have all had excellent careers, but none created the kind of phenomenon that Clark has. The answer is not race. The answer is impact.
Clark plays a brand of basketball that is electric. She pulls up from 30 feet and sinks shots with Steph Curry-level confidence. She threads impossible passes through traffic, drawing audible gasps from the crowd. She plays with fire and flair, and she backs it up with numbers. That is what people are tuning in for. That is what fans, young and old, of all races, are coming to see.
What makes McNutt’s comments even more frustrating for many is the timing. The WNBA is finally experiencing a cultural and financial renaissance. Attendance is up. Merchandise is flying off shelves. Social media engagement is at an all-time high. Clark has played a huge role in that surge, but so have players like Angel Reese, A’ja Wilson, and Sabrina Ionescu. The league is full of talent, and fans are responding. But instead of celebrating this golden era, commentators like McNutt are trying to fracture it, drawing lines where there were none, creating divisions where there should be unity.
The truth is that kids aren’t thinking about race when they watch their heroes play. They’re thinking about the game-winning shot, the crossover, the no-look pass. They’re thinking about how they want to be like Clark or Reese or Wilson because of how they play, not because of how they look. To turn those moments into a race debate is not only unnecessary, it’s damaging.
The broader implication of McNutt’s commentary is also troubling. When you suggest that Clark’s popularity is primarily a function of her race, you are also implying that Black players are less marketable or less celebrated for reasons beyond their control. That is an insult to the brilliance of players like Wilson, who has been dominating for years, or Reese, whose charisma and competitiveness have turned her into a household name. These women are stars in their own right, and they don’t need false dichotomies to validate their value.
What’s also notable is how many fans immediately pointed out the flaws in McNutt’s logic. Social media exploded with photos and videos of diverse crowds—Black, white, Hispanic, Asian—all coming together to celebrate women’s basketball. There were clips of Clark signing autographs for young Black girls, of families cheering her name in cities far from her hometown. Her appeal is not limited to a demographic. It’s built on the universal language of basketball excellence.
And it’s not just Clark who benefits from this momentum. The entire league is gaining. Players across the board are enjoying more exposure, more endorsement opportunities, and more respect. The sport itself is growing in popularity, and that should be the focus. Media personalities should be lifting up these athletes, not tearing them down or reducing them to the color of their skin.
When Clark made the All-WNBA First Team, it wasn’t because of politics. It was because of performance. When she leads the league in viewership numbers, it’s because fans want to watch greatness. That’s how sports work. Fans respond to winners, to talent, to those rare athletes who bring something new to the game. Clark is one of those athletes. Her style of play has expanded what is possible in the women’s game. She’s changing the geometry of the court, forcing defenders to guard far beyond the three-point line, and creating more space for her teammates. That’s not about race. That’s about revolution.
Unfortunately, by introducing narratives like the one McNutt shared, we risk losing the focus. We risk turning a moment of celebration into one of division. And that hurts everyone involved—the players, the fans, and the sport itself. If we want the WNBA to continue to grow, we need to center the conversation on basketball, not racial scorecards.
The real power of sports lies in its ability to bring people together. When a little girl sees her hero hit a logo three-pointer or make an impossible assist, she’s inspired to chase her own dreams. That inspiration shouldn’t be questioned or diminished because of someone else’s political agenda. Clark is not responsible for the narratives others attach to her. She’s responsible for the joy she brings to fans every time she steps on the court. And that should be enough.
So while McNutt’s comments may have sparked controversy, they also sparked an important reminder. Basketball is for everyone. Its magic lies in what happens between the lines, not in the color of the players’ skin. Let the kids cheer. Let the fans celebrate. Let the game grow.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3OpLZzRl8g
