In the swirling world of sports fandom, allegiances are often drawn along the lines of hometowns, favorite teams, or beloved athletes. But for many Black men in America today, a new and uncomfortable line has emerged—one that cuts through the heart of what it means to be a fan and, more deeply, what it means to be part of a community.
The latest flashpoint? Caitlin Clark, the electrifying white basketball phenom whose deep three-pointers and highlight-reel performances have captured the attention of the entire sports world. But for some, especially within Black communities, supporting Clark has become unexpectedly controversial—a symbol of deeper tensions and unresolved issues about race, loyalty, and identity.
“Read the Room”: The Pressure to Choose
On a recent episode of the YouTube channel “Keep the Vision,” the host addressed his audience with a palpable sense of frustration. “This is getting very nasty,” he began, his tone weary. “If you are of color, you cannot be a Caitlin Clark fan at this point as a Black person. This is what is being said to us.”
He recounted conversations and social media posts where Black men were told, sometimes bluntly, that rooting for Clark—or any white athlete—was a betrayal. “We’re not talking politics. We’re not talking about people’s houses. We’re talking about what the player is doing on the court,” he said, incredulous. “But we can’t even like a white female basketball player. It’s a crime now.”
The message was clear: in the current climate, Black men were being told to “read the room”—to understand that supporting Clark, especially publicly, was insensitive or even disloyal, given the larger issues facing Black women athletes like Angel Reese, who has faced her own share of criticism and attacks.
The Game Versus the Optics
The conflict isn’t really about basketball, the host argued. “We’re talking about the game. Y’all keep talking about everything else and how much she has gained. This ain’t the time,” he said, echoing the words he’d heard from others. “Your sister is being attacked. Your daughter is being attacked. Your cousin is being attacked. Like, this ain’t the time not to read the room. Read the room. There’s a larger issue at play.”
For many, the issue isn’t Clark herself, but what her popularity represents. The meteoric rise of a white female athlete in a league where Black women have long dominated is seen by some as a reflection of broader societal patterns—where Black excellence is overlooked and white newcomers are celebrated.
Against this backdrop, even a simple compliment from a Black male athlete or celebrity—LeBron James tweeting “great game,” for example—can be seen as a slight against Black women athletes who have fought for recognition and respect. “He can’t even say good game. This is crazy,” the host lamented. “Y’all have lost your damn minds about this, bro.”
Fandom in the Shadows
The result, he said, is that Black men feel pressured to hide their admiration for Clark or other white athletes. “Now we have to be fans in silence,” he joked. “We have to sneak and look at our phone and make sure ain’t nobody around. Come on, man. Stop it.”
He pushed back against the idea that fandom must be policed along racial lines. “Nobody could just be honest with how they feel or what they enjoy watching. Y’all need to be careful about what y’all post, what y’all say, because there’s a larger issue at hand,” he warned, repeating the advice he’d heard.
But he refused to accept it. “I’m not going to play this game with you. I’m going to like who I like. I’m going to enjoy watching who I enjoy watching regardless of their skin color.”
The Double Standard
The host pointed out the double standard in how Black male fans are expected to show unwavering support for Black women athletes, but are criticized for showing admiration for white athletes. “If you ask 90% of Black men that are being honest who are NBA fans, who’s the best player in the NBA? Some people, we all, you know, we have the Mike-LeBron debate. But LeBron’s older now, so we don’t really think he’s the best currently. We have no problem saying, ‘Hey, I think Jokic is the best player in the league. He’s from Serbia. He’s white. We don’t care. We love Luka.'”
He noted that it’s always been about the game, not the player’s race. “It’s about the sport. It’s about the game. This is not about race. You guys for so long have wanted equality in sports. Y’all want equality in money. Y’all want all of these things but can’t accept the attention that comes with it. It’s ridiculous.”
A Larger Issue, or a Manufactured Divide?
Despite the host’s insistence that fandom should transcend race, he acknowledged that for some, the situation is “bigger than basketball.” Angel Reese, he said, “deserves better.” The attacks on her and other Black women athletes are real, and the sense of solidarity is understandable.
But he also argued that the current climate is pushing people apart, forcing them to “pick a side” and stifling honest conversation about the game itself. “We are being told who we can and can’t enjoy watching play a game. It’s sad, man. This is sad. Y’all got to get a grip.”
Moving Forward: Can We Just Enjoy the Game?
As the episode drew to a close, the host made a plea for sanity—and for a return to what sports are supposed to be about. “The sooner we can get back to the game and stop trying to make it about everything… This is why a lot of men don’t even deal with women in sports. I’m just being honest with you.”
He challenged his viewers to keep their focus on the court, not the color of the athletes. “I’m going to continue to enjoy the game. I’m and I’m going to let y’all continue to be a part of the circus and the foolishness. I’m not going to let you trick me into not being able to like and watch who I want to watch.”
In a world increasingly divided by identity and politics, the simple act of being a fan—of cheering for the athlete who inspires you, regardless of race—has become a small act of rebellion. Whether that will be enough to bridge the divide remains to be seen. But for now, at least, some are determined to keep their eyes on the game.
