A 10 game suspension and at least a $10,000 fine is what Christine Brennan (who has been covering sports for
the last 45 years)
suggests is warranted.
Brennan was the first woman sports writer at The Miami Herald in 1981 and the first woman to cover Washington’s NFL team as a staff writer at The Washington Post in 1985.
She has covered every Olympic Games (22 of them), summer and winter,
since the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles.
Her column from last night:
Caitlin Clark made the WNBA bigger. It’s still playing small | Opinion
Christine Brennan
USA TODAY
Updated June 25, 2026, 7:21 p.m. ET
A fist to the throat. That’s the picture that has immediately become part of WNBA lore. In it, Caitlin Clark, the most famous, marketable and important women’s professional team sport athlete in history, is being
punched by Alyssa Thomas, whose earnings, fame and way of life have all been greatly enhanced over the past couple of years by the woman she is hitting.
For three seasons now, in ways big and small, the WNBA and its players have continued to show their
unabashed jealousy, disdain and outright hatred for the greatest thing to happen to them. The league’s paltry
one-game suspension of Thomas, with a tiny $1,000 fine (she makes a base salary of $1.2 million a year) and no mention of punishment for the officials overseeing the incident, barely begins to address the problem.
Ten games and a fine well into five figures would have sent a significant message. One game does not.
Clark is getting pummeled on a regular basis and WNBA commissioner Cathy Engelbert — who was given the greatest gift, in Clark, any women’s sports commissioner has ever received — has done precious little about it, until today, kind of, just a little.
What an opportunity she had to throw the book at Thomas, who has a history of dirty play, including severely injuring Minnesota Lynx star Napheesa Collier’s ankle last year. Thomas also happened to knee Clark in her left groin, which was injured last season, moments before her fist ended up on Clark’s neck.
The hit parade against Clark started way before this:
A brutal hip check from Chennedy Carter in Clark’s rookie year, an eye poke from Jacy Sheldon and
a freight train of a shove from Marina Mabrey last year. Cheap shots all. No one was ever suspended. Other fouls were not called. Clark argues with the refs, of course, and throws up her hands, something she has done since high school and AAU ball and definitely overdoes at times, although rarely is she wrong in her complaint.
Sadly, Engelbert’s history in the WNBA’s Clark era has been to disappear when she should rise. She has avoided when she should engage. In interviews about Clark, she “and Angels” or “and Paiges” when she should say what is undeniably true: it’s Caitlin Clark. She’s the one. No need to add other names.
If we’re talking TV viewership, moving to bigger arenas, sponsorships, bringing in waves of new young fans who want her autograph and will be around for the next 50-60 years, shoes, apparel, trading cards, you name it — no one else belongs in the same sentence.
What is especially aggravating about Engelbert’s inability to give Clark her due and keep her safe when the league desperately needs her presence for its financial future is all the possibilities the WNBA is squandering by refusing to fully embrace Clark’s superstardom. Many women who grew up playing sports at the beginning of Title IX, women like Engelbert and me,
dreamed of a time when a women’s team sport athlete would take over the nation the way Clark has. Team sports were always strictly the domain of men. Women excelled in the Olympics, tennis and golf, but team sports? They were not ours.
And then, and then … along comes a young woman in Iowa who is chucking shots from the parking lot and confidently celebrating as they go in.
As social media clips spread and State Farm commercials launched, fans lined up for hours across the Big Ten during the winter for Iowa games — as if Taylor Swift or Beyoncé was the one on stage that night. Fans came in the tens of thousands to do something I still cannot believe I am writing: Watch a woman play basketball.
Thirty years earlier, I would appear on sports radio talk shows while covering a Women’s Final Four, or before a 1990s WNBA game, and would get laughed at by men who thought it ridiculous we were even talking about women’s hoops. Now those guys, or their sons or grandsons, proudly wear their No. 22 jerseys not only to WNBA games but to the grocery store and the gas station.
This is the point in the Clark conversation when those in the league and WNBA media who have been actively minimizing Clark’s extraordinary impact for three seasons will say she’s just another very good player, that A’ja Wilson and Paige Bueckers are better (Wilson certainly is, and Bueckers might be, although her statistics are not as good as Clark’s).
And this is where I will say back: That’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about attendance and TV viewership and all the things Clark brings to the league to generate bigger revenue, bigger contracts, bigger arenas and bigger opportunities for all.
Just last week, Wilson and Bueckers played in a prime time Las Vegas-Dallas game on USA Network. It drew 457,000 viewers. The next day, Clark and the Indiana Fever played the lowly, expansion Toronto Tempo, also in prime time on USA Network. One million people watched.
This was not a one-off. When Clark was first injured last season and disappeared for two weeks, more than half the TV audience for the league disappeared too, according to Nielsen. Playoff numbers without her dropped similarly. Perhaps the most stunning sports TV viewership statistic of all is how Clark drew 18.9 million viewers to her last college game, the NCAA women’s final — four million more than watched the men’s national championship game the next night. Again, a feat that seemed unimaginable until Clark made it happen.
Just a month later, Clark’s fame and the accompanying security risks
forced the WNBA to initiate charter flights immediately upon her arrival after decades of making players endure commercial flights, middle seats and missed connections. Thomas was among dozens of veteran players who benefitted.
In her rookie WNBA season, Clark and the Fever drew an average of 17,036 at their home games, more than the average home attendance of five NBA teams that year.
In her rookie season last year, Bueckers couldn’t consistently sell out a 6,251-seat arena. In 20 home games held there, seven sold out.
These facts make some longtime WNBA players, reporters and fans (especially those from UConn) mad, even sad. I understand they wish a player like Maya Moore, Clark’s favorite growing up, would have been so famous that everyone -- sports fan or not -- knew her name, as they do with Clark. I wish it happened too. But it didn’t. Do they want the small thing to stay small forever?
Of course race and sexual orientation play a massive role in this conversation. The WNBA is a league that is 74% Black or mixed-race, with a sizable gay population, according to my book, "On Her Game: C