How History Should Remember This Era Of The WNBA [Op-Ed]
Like any die-hard sports fan, when I think about the history of my favorite sports, I think about the moments I have lived through and experienced as a fan. Certain performances in the WNBA are impossible to shake because the excellence you witness on the floor creates an immediate energy loop in the stands.
One of those times happened for me in a game I attended in person last season: a Sparks-and-Wings matchup that marked Dallas Wings guard Paige Bueckers’ first time playing in Crypto.com Arena as a WNBA player.
Sitting in the building that night, watching the number one overall draft pick as she wowed the crowd by racking up a record-breaking 44 points – a staggering feat considering her team would end the season with only ten wins – it was clear then that Bueckers had what it took to be Rookie of the Year and that we were all witnessing a future GOAT in action.
The history we carry as fans is also anchored to the small, intimate moments that the television cameras completely miss. One of those moments for me happened earlier this season when the Wings returned to Los Angeles, this time with their new number-one draft pick, Azzi Fudd, in tow.
Walking along the courtside seats during pre-game warmups, I caught Fudd’s eye as she seemed to be registering that I was wearing a jersey with her name and number emblazoned across it. As she quickly averted her eyes, a small smile peeked through, slipping out before she could fully contain it.
That quick, unguarded moment still stays with me as part of how I will remember that game, this season, and Fudd as a rising star in the WNBA.
In that brief interaction, it dawned on me that it might have been a dream come true for her: getting ready to play in the same arena where the Sparks and Lakers won championships, and seeing someone wearing a jersey there with her name on it.
Bueckers’ 44 points will live in a box score forever. Fudd’s smile will only live on through my retelling of it. In sports, books and articles are written, and leagues keep some historical record, but the bulk of the narrative and lore is passed down like a family heirloom by fans among friends and across generations of families.
History has a way of condensing years, and sometimes decades, of shifting political landscapes, social movements, and global conflicts into a sanitized Wikipedia entry or a sterile, one-paragraph summary stripped of nuance at the bottom of a textbook page.
Who is entrusted with writing history dictates what people and facts are included, who is mentioned, what context is included, and which perspectives frame the narrative.
Historians also call this a memory gap: the stark divide between those who witnessed history as it was being made and those who only learn about it after the fact on a school syllabus.
One can see how easily memory gaps form by analyzing the current state of the WNBA as it reaches its 30-year milestone this season. Tracking the league’s daily movements requires navigating a relentless cycle of changing storylines, fluctuating box scores, and player injuries that suddenly alter a team’s trajectory.
A much larger narrative has overshadowed these standard basketball metrics, fracturing the league into two distinct spaces. On one side are those who champion Indiana Fever guard Caitlin “Contusion” Clark. On the other side are those who view her as an overrated talent and a stain on the league, a living symbol of white mediocrity entering a space built by Black excellence and receiving automatic institutional protection for merely existing, rather than earning it through performance.
The WNBA and mainstream sports media have spent the past several years constructing an untouchable mythos around Clark, prematurely crowning her as a transcendental, foundational savior who single-handedly saved the league. The WNBA’s marketing plan and the massive commercial infrastructure behind it have relied on highly curated highlight reels to intentionally mask her glaring defensive flaws, heavy turnover rates, and persistent on-court tantrums.
History will likely remember the distorted nature of this era through performances like her recent 45-point game, destined to be archived in the official record as an unblemished milestone. The standard box score will obscure the reality that night, keeping future generations from seeing how the referees deferred to her, applying an entirely different standard that rewarded her with an astounding 19 free throw attempts.
Broadcast commentators later declared she had scored more points in a single game than any other player in WNBA history, a false claim that erased players like A’ja Wilson and Marina Mabrey, who are two of three players who have scored 53 points in a single game.
This rewriting process extends directly into the games, where Clark’s ongoing on-court antics continue to put Black women in physical danger. Columnist Nancy Armour wrote about this in USA Today, noting that Clark’s constant theatrical flopping and histrionics are creating a volatile environment for Black women.
Instead of correcting the behavior, Clark continues to double down on her defiance. Recently, after picking up a technical foul that put her one away from suspension for a game, her post-game response was that she is “never gonna back down.” That choice of words carries a heavy political resonance, mirroring the “Never Back Down” slogan and rallying cry used by Trump, MAGA acolytes, and white nationalists to justify aggressive defiance.
When this unyielding entitlement clashes with Black excellence on the court, it triggers severe real-world harm. Anytime Clark’s fans perceive a Black player has slighted her, they often respond with a barrage of vitriolic racial attacks and explicit death threats towards them.
To add insult to injury, this toxic racist behavior has been couched under the dangerous framing of a culture war. If you didn’t know the behaviors this inaccurate umbrella term was used to contain, it would be easy to assume that the culture war within a women’s professional league would be about trivial consumer preferences like whether fans were clamoring to get their hands on A’ja Wilson’s private edition Susie Carmichael’s shoes vs those eager to buy Contusion Clark’s debut sneaker. It’s a shoe that looks so much like it was inspired by modems and WiFi routers that I’ve been calling them the Clark Router Pro Max 100s.
Ultimately, when the dust settles on this WNBA marketing cycle and the league’s great white hope retires, those entrusted with writing the history of this era should resist the impulse to write it through the lens of a player who was ultimately overrated and stoked racial hostility in a league built by Black women.
I hope when the history is written, it will focus on the players, many of them Black women, who didn’t need a referee’s whistle, a curated media engine, or the full focus of the W’s marketing arm to make the case for their greatness.
Instead, the focus should be on A’ja Wilson, who has emerged as the face of the WNBA through hard work, talent, and determination. Wilson has already amassed more regular-season MVP awards than any other player in WNBA history, establishing an undisputed dynasty with the Las Vegas Aces and winning multiple championships.
While a deeply talented rookie class deserves recognition for bringing fresh energy to the floor, the historical record must also leave room to celebrate the veteran forces who routinely outplay the hype entirely under the radar. This milestone season should leave room to recognize those players, like Phoenix Mercury star Alyssa Thomas, who just recorded her 26th career triple-double. To put her historic dominance in context, Thomas holds the record for the most triple-doubles in league history, while the player with the second most has only accumulated five.
If this league is to survive its own commercial hyper-fixation, the history of this era cannot be told through a single, fragile investment. Future sports purists must pass down the stories of the women who sustained the foundation and who outplayed the spectacle, refusing to let lazy reporting or curated narratives dictate the record.
The authentic history stays alive through the true fans of women’s basketball who carry the memories of Aja’s dominance on the floor and retell moments like the flash of joy on Fudd’s face during warmups. Passed down across generations, these memories keep this golden age securely anchored by the uninterrupted excellence of Black women.
SEE ALSO:
Republicans Are Using The WNBA, Caitlin Clark To Dismantle Title IX
WNBA’s Uneven Whistle Continues To Put Black Women In Danger [Op-Ed]
