Caitlin Clark, a name synonymous with precision shooting and unshakable confidence, had just experienced a loss she never anticipated. It was her first-ever WNBA playoff defeat, a moment she had hoped would cement her legacy as a winner. Instead, it left her with a profound sense of disappointment. After the final buzzer, Caitlin could no longer hear the roar of the crowd or the words of encouragement from her teammates. All she could see in her mind were the critical moments of the game—the missed shots, the turnovers, and the trust her teammates had placed in her. She couldn’t stop blaming herself.
Emerging from the locker room, Caitlin noticed her teammates doing their best to regroup and find solace. Instead of staying with them, she chose to leave quietly. She didn’t want anyone to see her in such a vulnerable state. As she walked out of the arena and into the stillness of the night, she carried the heavy weight of the loss with her. Driving through empty streets, the glow of streetlights blurred past her car windows. Normally, after a game, Caitlin would feel a sense of excitement, replaying her standout moments and strategizing ways to improve. But tonight, the silence in her car felt deafening, amplifying her disappointment and confusion.
“How did this happen?” Caitlin asked herself. She had dedicated her entire life to basketball, pouring countless hours into practice and overcoming obstacles to become one of the most talented players in the league. Yet, this one loss made her feel like all her efforts had been overshadowed. Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood, playing basketball in the backyard with her brother, pretending to be the hero in high-stakes moments. But tonight, the hero in her story had fallen short.
As she drove past quiet neighborhoods and darkened storefronts, Caitlin felt an overwhelming urge to find peace—something to help her make sense of the emotions swirling inside her. It was then that she noticed a small, modest church tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Its stained glass windows glowed faintly in the night, and a sense of calm seemed to radiate from the building. Without thinking too much, Caitlin pulled over and stepped out of her car. The cold night air hit her skin as she stood in front of the church, staring at its simple wooden doors. She wasn’t particularly religious, but something about this place drew her in. Maybe it was the need for a moment of quiet, or perhaps it was the hope of finding some clarity amidst the chaos in her mind.
Caitlin pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The cool, still air of the church enveloped her, and the faint smell of candles filled the space. She noticed the flickering lights of dozens of candles at the altar, their glow casting a warm, inviting light. The pews were nearly empty, with only a few people scattered throughout, each lost in their own quiet prayers. Caitlin slowly walked toward the front of the church and sat down in one of the wooden pews. She clasped her hands tightly together and stared at the candles, her thoughts racing. The images of the game replayed in her mind—the moments she felt she had let her team down, the shots that didn’t fall, the opportunities missed.
She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, her voice trembling. “God, I don’t know what to do. I’ve worked so hard for this, and it still wasn’t enough. What now?” As she sat there in silence, tears began to fill her eyes. She thought about all the sacrifices she had made to get to this point in her career. Basketball had always been her escape, her passion, and her identity. But for the first time, it felt like the weight of it all was too much to bear.
A gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you okay, my child?” Caitlin looked up to see a kind-faced priest standing nearby, his hands clasped in front of him. He wore a simple white robe with a gold cross around his neck. “I don’t know,” Caitlin admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I had everything figured out, but now I’m not so sure.” The priest nodded, his expression warm and understanding. “Sometimes life has a way of humbling even the strongest among us. But those moments of doubt can also be opportunities to grow. Would you like to talk?”
Caitlin hesitated for a moment before nodding. The priest gestured toward a small room off to the side of the church, and Caitlin followed him inside. The room was simple and quiet, with a small wooden table and a few chairs. Caitlin sat down, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could let her guard down. Her hands rested on the edge of the table, trembling slightly. The priest took a seat across from her, his kind eyes steady and patient, giving her the space to collect her thoughts.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Caitlin admitted, her voice barely audible. “I’ve worked my whole life for this moment—being in the playoffs, playing at the highest level—and now that I’ve failed, it feels like I’ve let everyone down: my teammates, my family, my fans, even myself.” The priest leaned forward slightly, his expression soft but serious. “Do you truly believe you failed?” he asked gently. Caitlin hesitated, her eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know. I’ve always thought that winning was the only way to measure success, and tonight I came up short. I let the pressure get to me. I wasn’t the leader my team needed.”
The priest nodded thoughtfully, letting her words hang in the air for a moment before speaking. “Caitlin, it’s natural to feel this way after a setback, especially when you’ve poured so much of yourself into something. But let me ask you this: when you play, do you only play for the victory, or do you play for something more?” The question caught Caitlin off guard. She looked down at her hands, thinking back to why she had started playing basketball in the first place. She remembered the countless hours spent practicing in her driveway, the pure joy of hearing the ball swish through the net, and the thrill of playing alongside teammates who had become like family.
“I play because I love it,” she finally said, her voice steadying. “Because it’s a part of who I am. But it’s hard to separate that from the expectations—my own and everyone else’s.” The priest offered a small smile. “It’s clear that you’re passionate about what you do, and that passion is a gift. But sometimes we confuse our worth with the outcome of our efforts. Success isn’t just about the results; it’s about the journey, the growth, and the impact you have on others along the way.”
Caitlin wiped a tear from her cheek, the priest’s words beginning to resonate with her. “But how do I move forward from this? How do I face my team, my fans, and everyone who believed in me, knowing I didn’t deliver?” The priest leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the table. “Remember that you’re human, Caitlin. No one is perfect, not even the most talented among us. The greatest leaders aren’t the ones who never stumble; they’re the ones who rise after a fall and show others how to do the same. You’ve already inspired so many people with your talent and determination. This moment, this challenge, is just another part of your story.”
Caitlin took a deep breath, the weight on her chest feeling just a little lighter. “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way,” she admitted. “I’ve always felt like I had to be perfect to deserve success.” The priest shook his head gently. “Perfection is an illusion. It’s the pursuit of excellence, the willingness to learn, and the courage to keep going that truly matter. And from what I’ve heard tonight, you have all of those qualities in abundance.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet of the room offering Caitlin a sense of calm she hadn’t felt since the game ended. Finally, the priest stood and walked over to a small shelf, pulling out a leather-bound journal. He handed it to Caitlin. “Here,” he said. “Use this to write down your thoughts. Sometimes putting your emotions into words can help you make sense of them, and when you look back, you might be surprised at how much you’ve grown.”
Caitlin hesitated before taking the journal, running her fingers over its smooth cover. “Thank you,” she said softly. The priest smiled warmly. “You’re not alone in this, Caitlin. Remember that, and don’t be afraid to lean on the people who care about you. You’re stronger than you think, and this moment doesn’t define you. It’s how you respond to it that will.”
As Caitlin left the room and stepped back into the main hall of the church, she felt a newfound sense of clarity. The candles at the altar flickered softly, their light casting warm shadows across the pews. She approached the altar, lighting a candle of her own. Closing her eyes, she whispered a quiet prayer—not for victory or perfection, but for the strength to move forward, one step at a time. Caitlin left the church that night with the leather-bound journal in hand and a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in weeks. For the first time since the playoff loss, she wasn’t consumed by regret or the weight of expectations. Instead, she felt a glimmer of hope—a realization that her journey wasn’t over; it was just beginning.
The next morning, Caitlin woke up early and opened the journal for the first time. She began writing, letting her emotions spill onto the pages. She wrote about the playoff game, her mistakes, and the feelings of inadequacy that had been eating away at her. But as she continued, her words began to shift. She started to write about why she loved basketball—the freedom she felt on the court, the joy of playing alongside her teammates, and the pride of representing her family and fans. Day by day, Caitlin made journaling a habit. It became a space where she could reflect on her fears, celebrate her victories, and remind herself of the lessons she was learning along the way. She didn’t shy away from acknowledging her struggles, but she also began to recognize her growth and resilience.
Two weeks later, Caitlin returned to practice with her team. She walked into the gym with a calm confidence that surprised even herself. Her teammates greeted her warmly, their respect for her unwavering despite the loss. In her first team huddle back, Caitlin addressed her teammates. “I want to apologize,” she began, her voice steady but emotional. “I let the weight of that game get to me, and I didn’t show up the way I should have. But I’ve realized something: we’re not defined by one game or one moment. We’re defined by how we pick ourselves up and move forward, and I’m ready to do that with all of you.”
The gym erupted in cheers as her teammates surrounded her, their support palpable. Caitlin’s coach patted her on the shoulder. “Welcome back, Caitlin. We’ve got work to do.” From that day on, Caitlin approached every practice and game with a renewed perspective. She no longer played with the sole goal of winning but with the intention of giving her best effort and supporting her team. She embraced her role as a leader, not by being perfect but by being authentic and resilient.
Months later, Caitlin found herself back in the playoffs. This time, the stakes were even higher, but she was ready. Standing on the court before the tip-off, she glanced at the packed arena and thought about how far she had come since that first playoff loss. She wasn’t the same player who had walked off the court in tears; she was stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. When the game began, Caitlin played with a fire that ignited her team. She hit clutch shots, made key assists, and rallied her teammates during tough moments. The game went down to the wire, but this time, Caitlin wasn’t afraid of the pressure. As the final buzzer sounded, her team emerged victorious, advancing to the next round.
Caitlin’s teammates rushed to her, celebrating the hard-fought win. But for Caitlin, the victory wasn’t just about the scoreboard; it was about proving to herself that she could overcome anything. Later that night, as Caitlin sat in the locker room, she opened her journal and wrote, “This isn’t the end of the journey; it’s just the next step. I’ve learned that failure isn’t the opposite of success; it’s part of it. And as long as I keep moving forward, I’ll always be growing—always becoming better, not just as a player but as a person.”
The next day, Caitlin surprised her teammates by handing each of them a small notebook for the road ahead. “Write down your thoughts,” she said with a smile. “It helps more than you think.” Her gesture became a team tradition, one that strengthened their bond and reminded them of the power of reflection and resilience. Caitlin’s story of renewal and perseverance didn’t just inspire her team; it resonated with fans, young athletes, and anyone who had ever faced a setback. She became a symbol of what it meant to rise after falling, to turn pain into purpose, and to play with heart no matter the odds. As she continued her journey in the WNBA, Caitlin carried with her the lessons she had learned in that small church—lessons of faith, humility, and the unshakable belief that she was never alone.
From Prayer to Pointers: How Faith Fuels Caitlin Clark’s Game
6 Things to Know About Her Catholic Faith Ahead of NCAA Final Four
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Caitlin Clark has been taking the internet by storm this past week with good reason. Star of the University of Iowa women’s basketball team, they took out defending champs LSU on Monday, and may now potentially be the last team standing as we round out March Madness 2024.
And did I mention her ability to drain a three close to center court? The girl’s got game. And murmurs are also rippling about another integral aspect of Caitlin Clark: her fierce Catholic faith.
Here are 6 things to know about the 6-foot tall guard’s faith ahead of her quest to clinch an NCAA championship:
1. Clark, a native of Des Moines, grew up attending Catholic school. When she’s home, she is a parishioner at St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church in West Des Moines, That’s where she went to elementary school, St. Francis of Assisi Catholic School, before going to Dowling Catholic High.
2. Clark is vocal about her own faith on and off the court. Playing Varsity basketball for Dowling Catholic High School in West Des Moines, Iowa, she told the Des Moines Register in 2018, “We get to live our faith every day. Dowling starts every day with prayer and ends every day with prayer. This is a big reason why Dowling has such a special culture and is such a special place to go to school.”
3. Her brother also plays college football and is quick to keep her focused on faith. Even with a busy football season and college classes, Blake Clark who leads the Iowa State Cyclones as quarterback finds time to remind his sister to pray the Rosary and not to miss Mass near her campus. Parishioners say she is there more often than not. A St. Benedict bracelet was also spotted on her brother during the Final Four last year. He prayed the Rosary ahead of the game, the last decade recited inside the arena.
4. Actually her entire family is very sports-minded. Clark’s grandfather was the coach for Dowling Catholic High’s football team. Her father played both baseball and basketball in college. And her mother Anne thought her daughter would wind up at Notre Dame.
5. Her high school basketball coach witnessed her devotion. Kristin Meyer coached Clark during her years at Dowling and noticed her fervent faith and the player’s understanding of the many gifts God has given her. “It’s not just about scoring a lot of points or winning; she loves playing in front of a sold out arena because she gets to entertain people and bring a smile to their face,” Meyer told Crux in a recent interview. “For two hours she lets them have this great experience and she takes that pretty seriously, and knows that those gifts from God are an opportunity to bring joy to other people.”
6. Father Joseph Pins, pastor of St. Francis, Clark’s hometown parish has a strong relationship with the entire family. Father Pins told Crux about how the entire parish community is so proud of all of Clark’s accomplishments including himself. “We’re proud of our alumna who has done such a great, great, great, thing in life. It’s always good as we form children to watch this go through and see success not just on the basketball court but also in her faith life.”
Make sure to catch Caitlin Clark on the court this evening as Iowa takes on UConn at 630 p.m. PT/930 p.m. ET from Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse in Cleveland, Ohio. The game will be aired on ESPN.
