“WNBA RATINGS SCANDAL: ESPN, CBS, AND THE GRINER CULT CAN’T STOP CAITLIN CLARK FROM BURNING THEIR HOUSE DOWN”
The WNBA has always wanted a savior. For years, they propped up Brittney Griner as the “face of the league,” pouring airtime, sponsorships, and endless ESPN slobbering into her image while the actual product on the court crumbled. The narrative was simple: Griner was not just a player, she was a movement, a martyr, a corporate mascot wrapped in orange and purple.
But here’s the problem: America wasn’t buying it.
The ratings didn’t budge. The ticket sales didn’t spike. Even Griner’s high-profile detention in Russia, which ESPN milked for every last drop of sympathy coverage, didn’t create long-term fan engagement. The league’s “chosen one” couldn’t deliver the numbers.
Then Caitlin Clark walked in—and everything the WNBA’s puppet masters tried to suppress exploded into the open.
The Clark Quake That Shattered the Script
Caitlin Clark didn’t just show up to play; she showed up to torch the old order. Every arena she entered sold out. Every broadcast she appeared on set new records. Every highlight clip broke the internet within minutes.
In April 2025, when Clark’s Fever clashed with Griner’s Mercury, ESPN and CBS thought they’d stage-manage the “passing of the torch” moment. They wanted Griner to remain queen, Clark to bow politely, and the narrative to stay sanitized. Instead, America saw the truth: Griner was slow, tired, and overhyped, while Clark lit up the court like a dynamite stick in sneakers.
The public reaction? Brutal. Clark’s jersey sold out nationwide. Her highlights topped ESPN’s own NBA reels. Meanwhile, Griner’s stat line became the punchline on sports radio.
No corporate spin could disguise what fans were seeing with their own eyes: Caitlin Clark wasn’t the future of the WNBA. She was the WNBA.
ESPN’s Rigged Game
But of course, ESPN couldn’t just admit it.
Instead of giving Clark her crown, the network doubled down on its old tricks—massaging highlight reels, burying Clark under endless Griner think-pieces, and even cutting Clark’s live interviews short to pivot back to “the Griner story.” It was insulting.
One viral moment from May showed exactly how rotten the coverage had become: after Clark dropped 42 points in a nationally televised game, ESPN’s post-show devoted more time to a pre-recorded Griner interview about “leadership” than Clark’s actual performance. Fans online lost their minds. Hashtags like #LetClarkSpeak and #ESPNBias trended for days.
And yet, ESPN execs didn’t care. Why? Because Clark’s dominance threatened everything.
If Clark was the star, then years of manufactured Griner worship were exposed as fraud. If Clark carried the ratings, then ESPN’s credibility as the “truth-teller of sports” collapsed. And if Clark’s fresh, unapologetic playstyle drove the culture, then ESPN’s cozy relationship with corporate sponsors who loved the “safe Griner brand” went up in flames.
So they did what they always do: spin, spin, spin.
CBS Joins the Circus
CBS wasn’t any better.
Desperate for WNBA relevancy, CBS Sports leaned into “conflict framing”—not Clark vs. opponents, but Clark vs. Griner. Every broadcast was edited to create the illusion of rivalry, even when Griner wasn’t remotely competitive.
In one particularly pathetic stunt, CBS aired a segment titled “Clark Can Learn From Griner’s Legacy,” as if the rookie phenom who tripled ratings in a single season needed advice from the league’s most overexposed disappointment. Fans laughed, then raged. Clark wasn’t learning from Griner—Griner was clinging to Clark’s momentum like a lifeboat.
But here’s the kicker: CBS needed Griner to stay relevant, even as Clark pulled all the weight. Without Griner, CBS would have to admit they’d bet on the wrong horse for a decade.
So instead of celebrating Clark’s historic rise, they drowned her in forced narratives, fake rivalries, and desperate attempts to keep Griner’s name glued to hers.
Fans Aren’t Stupid Anymore
Here’s the part CBS and ESPN didn’t calculate: fans in 2025 aren’t passive. They don’t just swallow corporate scripts anymore. They watch the games. They track the stats. They stream the highlights on TikTok and call out the spin in real time.
And what they saw was undeniable: Clark’s arrival was the WNBA’s only lifeline.
Ticket sales? Up 80% in Fever road games.
Merch sales? Clark jerseys outsold the rest of the league combined.
Broadcast ratings? Every Clark game smashed records, even doubling the NBA Summer League.
Meanwhile, Griner’s games dragged like dead weight. Empty seats, flat ratings, and a mountain of excuses from ESPN.
The internet had receipts, and fans weren’t afraid to use them. Threads comparing Clark’s impact to Griner’s were brutal. Headlines like “Clark Saves WNBA While Griner Sleeps” dominated independent blogs. Even rival players quietly admitted Clark was “the one.”
The machine couldn’t hide it anymore.
The Backlash Begins
Of course, the league’s old guard didn’t take kindly to Clark’s takeover.
On the court, she was targeted with cheap fouls, “message plays,” and blatant physical intimidation. Off the court, anonymous leaks accused her of being “selfish,” “entitled,” and “privileged.” Every time Clark dominated, the whisper campaigns got louder.
But here’s the thing: every attempt to tear her down only made her stronger. Fans saw the bullying for what it was—a desperate, bitter resistance from players and execs terrified of losing relevance.
And Clark? She just kept dropping 30-foot bombs and smiling while the stadium shook.
The Ratings Don’t Lie
By the end of Q2 2025, the numbers were undeniable:
Clark-led games averaged 2.4 million viewers, rivaling NBA primetime.
Non-Clark games struggled to break 500k, with some dipping below reruns of Shark Tank.
Fever merchandise revenue alone eclipsed half the league’s total merch sales.
ESPN tried burying the numbers in “quarterly averages,” but independent analysts tore through the data and exposed the truth: Clark wasn’t just saving the WNBA—she was the WNBA.
And Griner? She didn’t even crack the top 5 in jersey sales.
The Collapse of the Griner Myth
By July, the narrative finally imploded.
Articles once praising Griner’s “legacy” started hedging: “Is Clark Already Surpassing Griner?” Talk shows that once worshipped Griner suddenly pivoted to Clark as “the new face of women’s basketball.” The machine, cornered, finally began to pivot—but too late.
Griner’s brand was toxic, a relic of a failed marketing experiment. Clark’s brand was wildfire—unstoppable, uncontrollable, and burning through every excuse CBS, ESPN, and the WNBA tried to throw in her path.
The Verdict
The WNBA wanted Griner to be its savior. ESPN and CBS wanted her to be their ratings shield. Instead, Caitlin Clark walked in and burned the whole fraudulent empire to ash.
The networks tried to suppress her, but she broke through. The players tried to intimidate her, but she thrived. The old narratives collapsed, the new reality took over, and the fans made their choice.
Clark is the star. Clark is the draw. Clark is the league.
And no amount of ESPN spin, CBS propaganda, or league-office manipulation can change that.
Final Word
In the end, the WNBA’s biggest scandal isn’t just its ratings—it’s the years wasted worshipping false idols while the real future was ignored.
Clark didn’t just arrive to play ball. She arrived to expose the rot.
And now, with every three-pointer she sinks, every sold-out arena she commands, and every ratings record she shatters, she’s sending a clear message to the league, to CBS, and to ESPN:
Your era is dead. Mine has just begun.
