ESPN Just Tried to ERASE the Caitlin Clark Effect — And Got EXPOSED
When Caitlin Clark was ruled out of the 2025 WNBA All-Star Game, all eyes were on the league. Would the players and the event itself shine without the rookie sensation? The answer, it turns out, was more revealing than anyone expected—not just about the WNBA, but about ESPN’s approach to covering Clark’s impact. In a move that’s now sparking widespread backlash, ESPN appeared to deliberately downplay the “Caitlin Clark effect” in their coverage and ratings reports. But fans and analysts caught on instantly, and the network’s selective storytelling is now being exposed for what it is: an attempt to rewrite the narrative of women’s basketball’s most transformative star.
The controversy started with the numbers. After a weekend of All-Star festivities, ESPN proudly announced that the 2025 WNBA Skills and Three-Point Contest had averaged 1.3 million viewers, up 89% from the previous year. That’s an impressive jump, and the network made sure everyone noticed. But when it came to the All-Star Game itself, ESPN compared the ratings not to 2024—the year Clark played and set records—but to 2023, before Clark entered the league. Their headline: “WNBA All-Star Game up 158% from 2023.” What they didn’t mention? Compared to 2024, viewership was actually down 36%, from 3.4 million to 2.2 million.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. ESPN has a habit of cherry-picking data when it comes to Clark’s impact. After the 2025 WNBA draft, the network boasted that viewership was up 119% compared to 2023. But why skip 2024, the year Clark’s draft drew a record 2.45 million viewers? The answer is simple: comparing to 2024 would have meant admitting that viewership had dropped by nearly half. The same pattern emerged during March Madness, when ESPN compared early-round ratings to 2023, but abruptly stopped those comparisons once the numbers fell below Clark-era highs.
For Clark’s fans, the omissions were glaring. Social media erupted with questions and criticism. Why was ESPN so reluctant to acknowledge the player who had single-handedly brought millions of new fans to women’s basketball? Why frame the numbers as “historic” when they were, in fact, lower than last year’s record? The answer, many believe, lies in a delicate balancing act between promoting the league and protecting the egos of other players and stakeholders.
The league itself has been caught in similar contradictions. When Clark won Time Athlete of the Year, some voices within the WNBA called for the entire league to share the cover, as if her individual achievements were somehow unfair or incomplete without group recognition. When Clark won an ESPY, even her own coach seemed hesitant to praise her without immediately shifting credit to “all the great players in the league.” And when Clark’s fans—now the largest and most passionate in the WNBA—are discussed in the media, the tone often turns negative, with accusations that they’re “toxic,” “racist,” or “ruining the league” by not supporting other players.
The result is an ecosystem where Clark’s unprecedented impact is both undeniable and, at times, unwelcome. Ticket prices and ratings soar when she plays; they plummet when she doesn’t. Her games against top teams have consistently drawn the highest viewership in decades, and her presence has doubled franchise values and brought in a wave of new investment. Yet instead of embracing this growth, some in the WNBA and at ESPN seem determined to downplay it, spinning statistics and shifting narratives to make it seem as though women’s basketball’s rise is a collective achievement rather than the result of a singular phenomenon.
The 2025 All-Star Game was a perfect example. With Clark sidelined, ticket prices dropped 48% and the broadcast lost over a million viewers compared to the previous year. Yet ESPN’s coverage glossed over the decline, focusing on selective year-over-year increases and avoiding any direct mention of Clark’s absence. When All-Star weekend players donned protest shirts demanding higher pay, the moment was framed as a united front—until Kelsey Plum called out Clark’s team for not joining the pregame meeting, sparking more division and backlash online.
In the court of public opinion, the spin backfired. Fans and journalists alike pointed out the obvious: if Clark had played, ratings would have likely soared past last year’s record. Even without her, the game was the second most-watched in WNBA history—a fact that only underscores her transformative effect. The attempt to erase or minimize her impact only made it more obvious.
The lesson for ESPN, the WNBA, and anyone invested in the league’s future is clear. The Caitlin Clark effect is real, and trying to hide it only makes fans more determined to spotlight it. Rather than gaslighting viewers or taking subtle shots at Clark, the league and its partners would do better to embrace the growth she’s brought, welcome her fans, and acknowledge that sometimes, one player really can change everything.
In the end, ESPN’s attempt to rewrite the narrative was exposed by the very audience they tried to mislead. The numbers don’t lie, and neither do the millions of new fans tuning in every week. The Caitlin Clark effect isn’t just a story—it’s the story of women’s basketball in 2025. And no amount of spin can erase that.
