Cindy Brunson had always loved the sound of the crowd. For over a decade, her voice had echoed through living rooms across the country, narrating the highs and lows of the WNBA with the practiced ease of someone who had seen it all. She’d called buzzer-beaters, heartbreaks, dynasties rising and falling. She’d weathered storms—on the court and off. But nothing had prepared her for the storm that came in the summer of 2025.
It started, as so many things did now, with a tweet.
Caitlin Clark, the Indiana Fever’s rookie sensation, had just hit another logo three—her fourth of the night, sealing a win that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Social media exploded with praise for the young star, whose popularity was now eclipsing even the league’s most established names. Cindy, sitting in her Phoenix apartment, scrolled through the comments, her jaw tightening. She’d always prided herself on her objectivity, but something about the Clark mania rubbed her the wrong way.
She fired off a tweet:
“Highlight reels are fun, but real basketball is more than deep threes and hype. Let’s remember the legends who built this league before we crown a new one.”
The backlash was immediate. Clark’s fans, legion and vocal, flooded her mentions. Some called her out for “gatekeeping.” Others accused her of being jealous, or worse. Cindy tried to ignore it. She’d weathered online storms before. But this one was different. It didn’t die down—it grew, fed by clips and screenshots, by fans who saw her words as part of a larger pattern of dismissiveness toward the new face of the league.
A week later, another tweet surfaced—an older one, where Cindy had questioned Clark’s leadership after a heated on-court exchange. The context was missing, but the narrative was set: Cindy Brunson was a “Clark hater.” Suddenly, every broadcast she’d called was being dissected, every comment parsed for bias.
The Phoenix Mercury, her home for the past five years, released a statement: “The Phoenix Mercury are committed to fostering a positive and inclusive environment for all players and fans. Effective immediately, Cindy Brunson will no longer serve as a member of our broadcast team.”
Cindy stared at the email, her hands shaking. Just like that, the career she’d built—gone.
The news spread quickly. Sports blogs, YouTube channels, and Twitter threads lit up with speculation and schadenfreude. Some fans celebrated. Others lamented the loss of a knowledgeable voice. But the message was clear: the WNBA was changing, and those who couldn’t adapt would be left behind.
Cindy’s phone buzzed with messages—some supportive, some not. Her mentor, Cheryl Swoopes, called from Houston. “You okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“I don’t know,” Cindy admitted. “I just… I never thought it would end like this.”
“You’re not the first,” Cheryl said. “And you won’t be the last. The league’s different now. It’s not just about the game on the court—it’s about the game online, too.”
Cindy sighed. She knew Cheryl was right. The WNBA was in the middle of a renaissance, fueled by a new generation of stars and a fanbase that lived and breathed on social media. Caitlin Clark wasn’t just a player—she was a phenomenon, a cultural force. And criticism of her, fair or not, was now a lightning rod.
Days passed. Cindy tried to keep busy, applying for jobs, updating her resume, but the silence was deafening. She missed the rhythm of the season—the travel, the camaraderie, the thrill of calling a close game. She missed the feeling of being part of something bigger than herself.
One night, unable to sleep, she scrolled through her old broadcasts. She watched herself call Diana Taurasi’s record-breaking game, Brittney Griner’s triumphant return, even a young Caitlin Clark’s first WNBA appearance. Her commentary was sharp, insightful. But she could also hear the moments when she’d bristled at the hype, when she’d let her skepticism creep into her voice.
Had she been fair? Or had she let her own biases cloud her judgment?
The next morning, Cindy opened her laptop and began to write. Not a tweet, not a hot take—just an honest reflection. She wrote about the challenges of being a veteran in a league that was changing faster than she could keep up. She wrote about the pressure to have an opinion on everything, the fear of being left behind. She wrote about the joy of watching young players like Clark electrify the game, and the sadness of feeling like there was no place for her voice anymore.
When she finished, she posted it to her blog. She didn’t expect anyone to read it. But within hours, the post went viral. Fans, players, even other broadcasters shared it. Some criticized her, but many thanked her for her honesty. A few even apologized for the vitriol.
The next day, Cindy received an email from a producer at a national sports network. They were launching a new podcast about the evolution of women’s sports, and they wanted her to host. “We need voices like yours—experienced, thoughtful, willing to learn and grow,” the producer wrote.
Cindy hesitated. She wasn’t sure she was ready to step back into the spotlight. But then she thought about the league she loved, about the players who were changing the game, about the fans who cared enough to fight for what they believed in.
She replied: “I’d love to.”
On her first episode, Cindy interviewed Caitlin Clark. The conversation was open, honest, and at times, uncomfortable. But by the end, there was mutual respect.
“Change is hard,” Cindy said. “But it’s also what makes this league great.”
Caitlin smiled. “We’re all on the same team, in the end.”
As the episode ended, Cindy realized something. The sound of the crowd was still there—different, but just as powerful. And for the first time in a long time, she was proud to be part of it.
“Blocking out the noise”: WNBA’s Caitlin Clark fires back at Megyn Kelly in ongoing privilege debate
Caitlin Clark Dylan Buell/Getty Images
WNBA star Caitlin Clark broke the record for assists in her rookie season. And even in the offseason, she can’t help but feed the trolls.
Clark shot back at conservative commentator Megyn Kelly while accepting a Time magazine award for “Athlete of the Year” on Wednesday.
“I think my best skill is just blocking out the noise, and hopefully it continues to be, because with the way things are going and where the WNBA is going, you want that attention, and you embrace it, and that’s what makes this so fun,” Clark told broadcaster Maria Taylor, per Time.
Clark attracted right-wing scorn when she opened up on Monday about her sense of privilege, celebrating the Black athletes who came before her in a Time interview about the honor.
“I want to say I’ve earned every single thing, but as a white person, there is privilege,” Clark said, adding that the “league has kind of been built on” Black players. Kelly took issue with Clark’s suggestion, claiming Clark was “apologizing for being white” in a post to X.
“She’s on the knee all but apologizing for being white and getting attention,” the former Fox News host said. “Condescending. Fake. Transparent. Sad.”
It’s not the first time the rookie of the year has had to navigate thorny issues of race and right-wing grievance. The Indiana Fever guard had to condemn far-right trolls earlier this year for using her race to tear down Black WNBA stars. Clark called the hateful narratives “disappointing” back in June after colleagues pushed her to more strongly combat them.
“People should not be using my name to push those agendas,” Clark told ESPN. “Treating every single woman in this league with the same amount of respect, I think, it’s just a basic human thing that everybody should do.”
