INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA – JUNE 19: Caitlin Clark #22 of the Indiana Fever argues a call with a referee during a game against the Washington Mystics at Gainbridge Fieldhouse on June 19, 2024 in Indianapolis, Indiana. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, User is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. (Photo by Emilee Chinn/Getty Images)
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Each time a WNBA opponent makes hard contact with Caitlin Clark, a familiar sequence of events typically follows. Over the past few weeks that sequence has consisted of a missed whistle, a viral clip, a wave of outrage, a quiet league review, followed by an outpouring of commentary from coaches, teammates, broadcasters, and fans insisting that the sport’s most visible player must be protected. And while the implicit instinct behind some of that chorus is largely understandable, and in many cases may be sincere, the language used often unknowingly relies on sentiments and language that perpetuate decades of harmful stereotypes about women athletes.
Specifically, what we are seeing as people attempt to protect Cailtin Clark is the harmful framing of women athletes as either fragile and in need of protection, while simultaneously characterizing other’s as too physical and classless. The outcome of these storylines is also increasingly becoming harmful to the growth of the sport. Given that women’s professional sport continues to grow at historic rates, it is unfortunate that one of the biggest storylines is being told through a frame that is reviving harmful stereotypes about women athletes.
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA – JUNE 22: Valeriane Ayayi #11 of the Phoenix Mercury reaches for the ball against Caitlin Clark #22 of the Indiana Fever at Gainbridge Fieldhouse on June 22, 2026 in Indianapolis, Indiana. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, User is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. (Photo by Michael Hickey/Getty Images)
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Physical Play Double Standard
The most recent example of protection came on June 24, when Phoenix Mercury forward Alyssa Thomas pressed a closed fist into Clark’s neck during a scramble for a loose ball and drew no whistle. The league reviewed the play the next day, upgraded it to a Flagrant 2, and suspended Thomas for one game. In the hours between, Indiana Fever head coach Stephanie White described the no-calls as “absolutely unacceptable,” “egregious,” and “utterly disrespectful,” and accused WNBA officials of failing to safeguard a “generational talent.” It was not the first such moment. The Chennedy Carter hip-check, Angel Reese’s forearm, and the Jacy Sheldon–Marina Mabrey physicality followed similar sequences, and each became a national conversation on whether Clark, specifically, was being adequately protected.
UNCASVILLE, CONNECTICUT – JUNE 13: Caitlin Clark #22 of the Indiana Fever tries to get around Saniya Rivers #22 of the Connecticut Sun in the first quarter at Mohegan Sun Arena on June 13, 2026 in Uncasville, Connecticut. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, User is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. (Photo by Sean D. Elliot/Getty Images)
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Critically, Clark is also a white player in a league that is roughly 70% Black, and the opponents repeatedly noted as her aggressors (e.g., Thomas, Carter, Reese, Sheldon, and Mabrey) are mostly Black women. A protection narrative that is also being built around a white player, with Black women as a recurring threat she must be shielded from, feeds directly into the long history of Black women athletes being characterized as overly physical, aggressive, and classless, and in extreme cases, ‘thugs’ or the infamous ‘nappy-headed hoes’ commentary from former radio host Don Imus, referring to the Black women players on the Rutgers Women’s Basketball Team. That standard is not as easily carried over for white women athletes regardless of their style of play. White women athletes who play a more physical game against their Black women counterparts are more likely to be described as merely playing hard. As a result, the most consequential outcome that should be at the center of these conversations is that Clark’s defenders have framed her treatment in a manner that is rebuilding harmful stereotypes across women’s sport.
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – MAY 08: Veronica Burton #22 of the Golden State Valkyries battles for the ball with Jade Melbourne #5 of the Seattle Storm during the second quarter at Climate Pledge Arena on May 08, 2026 in Seattle, Washington. (Photo by Jack Compton/Getty Images)
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Harmful Framing
For example, women athletes are routinely portrayed as emotional, powerless, and reliant on their coaches or superiors, resulting in their infantilization, all while their men athlete counterparts are framed as rational and confident.
Recent investigations of social media discourse have also documented racialized components to framing the actions of white and Black women athletes. Speocifcally, samilar on-court gestures are often interpreted differently depending on the race of the athlete performing them, such as the “you can’t see me” gesutre used by Clark and Angel Reese in the 2023 NCAA women’s tournamnet. Clark was largely praised for her confidence and competitiveness through the gesture, while Reese was condemned online as “classless” and a “thug” for nearly identical behavior. This difference in interpretation of the same action has been noted as a mechanism by which to police Black women.
Ultimately, these processes also do not need to be as overt as what is occurring with Clark and the physicality of the league. Often, this framing and infantilization of women athletes can be perpetuated through instances as small as naming conventions, where women are referred to by first names and men by surnames or women as ladies and men as athletes, which subtly codes woman athletes as inferior, weak, or in need of protection.
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – JUNE 10: Kelsey Plum #10 of the Los Angeles Sparks fights through the contact from Stefanie Dolson #31 of the Seattle Storm during the third quarter at Climate Pledge Arena on June 10, 2026 in Seattle, Washington. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photograph, User is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. (Photo by Jack Compton/Getty Images)
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Reviving Harmful Stereotypes
The consequences of the current framing unfortuantely extend beyond Clark. Each time hard contact against her becomes a highly visible debate about whether she is being protected, the players who fouled her, who are often disproportionately Black, and in some cases queer, are often classified as aggressors and villains. Importantly, players across the WNBA have called out this dynamic directly in their comments to the media. Phoenix’s Natasha Cloud, asked about the outrage over fouls on Clark, characterized the contact as normal basketball and argued that the reaction was rooted in racism. Angel Reese and Sue Bird have also made comparable observations.
In basketball culture, defending a teammate is typically a fundamental value of the game. For Clark, this unwritten rule has been on full display as her teammates have shown a willingness to physically stand up for her during heated exchanges and her coaches have advocated for more consistent foul calls. Unfortunately, becuase women’s sport has long battled harmful stereotypes of infantilization, and Black women athletes continue to battle racist stereotypes, those instances of defending Clark are shifting from merely showing supporting for your teammate/player into “this fragile star must be shielded from dangerous women” at all costs.
While much of the contact Clark absorbs during games is real and the calls for more consistent officiating are largely warranted, the implicit and stereotypical framing of these conversations are harmful to the sport. Women’s basketball has spent decades fighting to be taken seriously as a physical, competitive, professional product, and any narratives that cast one of its most visible players as a fragile star in need of protection from physical (mostly Black) opponents is ultimately undermining that progress.

