Black boy helps basketball player Caitlin Clark with a flat tire—What happened next changed his life forever
Caitlin Clark, one of the brightest stars in women’s basketball, was used to being in control. From the courts of Iowa to the national stage, she had earned every accolade with hard work, dedication, and an unshakable will to win. Off the court, Caitlin’s life was equally curated—interviews, endorsements, and a steady stream of media attention filled her days. She had everything she thought she needed: fame, wealth, success. But there was one thing that always nagged at her—the feeling that something was missing.
One hot afternoon, Caitlin decided to take a break from her hectic schedule. Her favorite car, a sleek black sports sedan, hummed down a quiet, rural road in North Carolina. The sun beat down on the asphalt, and the heat made the world shimmer like a mirage. Caitlin, tired of the constant buzz of her life, was in no particular hurry. She just needed some space.
However, the tranquility of the drive soon came to an abrupt halt. With a sharp jolt, the car skidded slightly before coming to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Caitlin sighed, feeling the familiar frustration of being out of control. She knew what had happened instantly—a flat tire. She had been on the road for hours, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was a flat.
“Perfect,” Caitlin muttered under her breath. She reached for her phone, but there was no signal—of course. She had driven so far out of the way that her GPS had stopped working, and now she was stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no one in sight.
She stepped out of the car, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck, and assessed the situation. It was hot, and she was alone. Caitlin wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with fixing cars—her dad had taught her how to change a tire when she was younger—but something about the isolation of the moment made it feel harder than it should have been.
As she stood there, contemplating her next move, she noticed movement in the distance. A young boy, perhaps 13 or 14, was riding a bicycle toward her, his figure silhouetted against the fading sunlight. He was dressed in an old T-shirt with a faint University of North Carolina Tarheels logo on it, and his sneakers were worn from use.
The boy slowed down as he approached, his eyes taking in the sight of her car and the flat tire.
“Hey, mister,” he called out, though Caitlin couldn’t help but smile at the obvious fact that he was addressing her as if she were much older. “You got a flat?”
Caitlin raised an eyebrow, surprised by his directness. “Yeah, looks like it.”
The boy examined the car for a moment, then whistled low. “Nice car. Better it don’t get flats often.”
Caitlin chuckled at the remark. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”
The boy hopped off his bike and set it down gently, his eyes full of determination. “I can fix that for you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Got a spare in the back.”
Caitlin blinked, incredulous. “You know how to change a tire?”
The boy flashed a crooked, but confident, smile. “Yes, ma’am. My grandpa taught me last summer. Ain’t nothing to it.”
Caitlin stepped back, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and surprise. He moved with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. There was something about the way he carried himself, a quiet confidence that reminded her of the young athletes she had seen rise to greatness on the basketball court.
“You’re sure about this?” Caitlin asked, still skeptical.
The boy nodded. “Yup. My grandpa runs a shop down the street. I’ve helped him with stuff before.”
Caitlin popped the trunk and watched as the boy effortlessly grabbed the spare tire and jack. He worked with a precision that belied his age. In a matter of minutes, he had the car elevated and was removing the flat tire. Caitlin couldn’t help but be impressed by his focus—there was no hesitation in his movements, no sense of doubt. It was the kind of precision she was used to seeing in athletes preparing for a big game.
“What’s your name?” Caitlin asked as she watched him work.
“James Carter,” he replied, not breaking his focus. “I live just down the road with my mom.”
Caitlin nodded, her mind still processing how efficiently he was working. “You’ve done this before, huh?”
James grinned as he tightened the last bolt. “Yeah, plenty of times. It’s just what you do when you need to get things done.”
Within 20 minutes, the job was done. The tire was replaced, and the car was ready to go. James wiped his hands on his jeans and stepped back, surveying his work.
“All set, ma’am,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Caitlin was impressed. “You’re faster than some mechanics I’ve hired,” she said with a smile.
She reached into her wallet, pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills, and offered them to him. “I appreciate the help. Let me give you something for your trouble.”
James hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, I don’t need it. I was just helping out.”
Caitlin blinked, taken aback. “You sure? I can’t just let you do this for nothing.”
James smiled, his eyes steady and unwavering. “It’s fine. I don’t do things for money. I just do it because it’s the right thing.”
Caitlin stood there, the money still in her hand. She had spent years around people who expected something in return for everything they did. Businessmen, agents, sponsors—they all had their prices. But James wasn’t like that. He had refused the money without hesitation, not because he was too proud but because he believed in doing the right thing without expecting anything in return.
She watched as he hopped back on his bike. “If you ever need help again, just ask for James Carter. People around here know me.”
And just like that, he was gone, fading into the distance as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Caitlin stood there for a long moment, processing the encounter. The world she had always known—luxury, wealth, fame—suddenly felt distant, hollow. She had met athletes, celebrities, and billionaires, all of whom had their own agendas, but James Carter was different. He didn’t want anything from her. He simply wanted to help.
As Caitlin drove the rest of the way, her thoughts lingered on the boy. There was something rare about James—a humility and work ethic that Caitlin knew could take someone far in life. But it wasn’t just his work ethic that had struck her; it was his integrity, his refusal to accept anything that wasn’t earned, his belief in helping others simply because it was the right thing to do. That kind of character was something Caitlin admired deeply.
Later that evening, Caitlin found herself thinking about the boy again. She picked up her phone and dialed the number of her business manager. She had to find him.
The next morning, Caitlin drove back to the small town, following the directions she had written down the day before. The town looked much as it had when she passed through, with small houses and a sense of quiet pride in the air. She pulled up to a modest home and knocked on the door.
Linda Carter, James’s mother, answered. Caitlin introduced herself and explained why she was there. Linda smiled, recognizing Caitlin instantly. “James is out back, fixing the fence,” she said. “Come on in.”
The house was simple but filled with warmth—photos on the walls, handmade decorations, and a general sense of love and care. Caitlin was struck by how different it was from her own mansion. This home felt lived in, real.
When James came inside, his eyes widened at the sight of Caitlin standing in the living room.
“You really came back?” he asked, clearly surprised.
Caitlin smiled warmly. “I came to thank you properly. You helped me when I needed it most.”
James shrugged, looking down at the floor. “I was just doing what anyone would do.”
Caitlin shook her head. “Not everyone would do what you did. And I think you’re destined for more than you realize.”
She went on to tell James about the scholarship she wanted to set up for him—an opportunity to study engineering or trade skills, something that would allow him to build a future on his own terms. The conversation continued, and Caitlin could see the hesitation in James’s eyes as he processed what she was offering. But she knew, just as she had seen in her own career, that it was up to him to take the chance.
And just like that, Caitlin Clark, the athlete known for her resilience and determination, had learned the greatest lesson of all: that true greatness wasn’t measured by the number of points scored or championships won, but by the ability to lift others up.
Caitlin Clark credits Black players for building WNBA while acknowledging her privilege
Indiana Fever guard Caitlin Clark has helped take the WNBA to a whole new level of popularity, but she has made sure to remind people that much of the foundation of the league was built by Black stars.
Clark, who was named Time’s 2024 Athlete of the Year on Dec. 10, reflected in the publication’s story on her achievement about how she views her place in the league’s lineage of talent.
“I want to say I’ve earned every single thing, but as a white person, there is privilege,” she said. “A lot of those players in the league that have been really good have been Black players. This league has kind of been built on them.”
“The more we can appreciate that, highlight that, talk about that, and then continue to have brands and companies invest in those players that have made this league incredible, I think it’s very important,” she continued. “I have to continue to try to change that. The more we can elevate Black women, that’s going to be a beautiful thing.”
Clark’s comments refer to her white privilege, defined as the inherent and unearned advantages and benefits white people have over non-white people. According to Learning for Justice, white privilege “exists because of historic, enduring racism and biases.”
The issue of race often came up during Clark’s Rookie of the Year campaign this past season, whether it was her reported rivalry with Chicago Sky star Angel Reese, taking flagrant fouls on the court or her immediate popularity compared to some of the league’s established Black stars.
Las Vegas Aces star A’ja Wilson, a three-time WNBA MVP, spoke to Marie Claire magazine in May about the effect Clark’s arrival has had on other players.
“I felt like I was mentally tired in that whole whirlwind of people constantly saying, ‘A’ja you’re only known because of Caitlin; we’re only here because of Caitlin,’” Wilson said. “And that’s great, I get that, but while you’re here I’m not going to let you discredit me or the work that I’ve done, or my teammates or the people who came before have done.”
Wilson also told The Associated Press that she believes Clark’s race is “a huge thing” when it comes to her popularity.
“I think a lot of people may say it’s not about Black and white, but to me, it is,” she said. “It really is because you can be top notch at what you are as a Black woman, but yet maybe that’s something that people don’t want to see.”
“They don’t see it as marketable, so it doesn’t matter how hard I work. It doesn’t matter what we all do as Black women, we’re still going to be swept underneath the rug. That’s why it boils my blood when people say it’s not about race because it is.”
Black players like Sheryl Swoopes, Lisa Leslie, Candace Parker, Cynthia Cooper and Maya Moore helped establish the WNBA as a top women’s basketball league in the world. The WNBA has also had white stars before Clark, from Sue Bird to Breanna Stewart.
Clark didn’t believe any hard fouls against her by Black players had anything to do with her popularity.
“I never thought I was being targeted,” she told Time. “Obviously, that shouldn’t ever happen within a game. But basketball is physical. Your emotions can get the best of you. My emotions have gotten the best of me many times.”
She also tries not to give oxygen to those looking to make any confrontations or rivalries on the court about race.
“A lot of people that wanted to have opinions on what was happening probably didn’t even watch half the games that they were trying to have a take on and hadn’t supported the W for a really long time,” she said.
