RACIST COP hits Caitlin Clark with a BATON, then was taught the lesson of his life

The city park on a warm Saturday afternoon was typically a place of joy—families picnicking, joggers weaving along winding paths, and children feeding ducks at the pond. Sunlight danced through the leaves of old oak trees, and a mild breeze carried the scent of freshly mowed grass. Amid this bustling serenity, Caitlin Clark, dressed in a simple hoodie and sunglasses, settled onto a wooden bench. She was far from her usual spotlight on the basketball court; she wanted a quiet day to clear her head and enjoy a slice of normal life.

Caitlin leaned back, taking in the sounds of kids chasing each other, couples chatting softly, and the distant bark of a small dog. It was a relief not to be recognized for once—no reporters, no photographers, no throngs of fans demanding autographs. She felt at peace.

But peace was the last thing on Officer Richard Cain’s mind. Officer Cain, with a short fuse and a history of complaints, was on patrol in the park. Other officers knew he wasn’t the friendliest—they called him a “hard-liner” at best. At worst, some said he harbored prejudices that should have no place in law enforcement. Nobody would have been surprised to learn that he had been reprimanded multiple times for profiling people he decided “didn’t belong.”

Cain walked heavily along the paved paths, scanning faces and postures with narrowed eyes. He liked to pick out anyone who seemed “suspicious,” often using minor excuses to hassle them. As he passed picnickers and dog-walkers, he nodded curtly—but the moment his gaze landed on Caitlin, something in him bristled. She wore her hood up, her sunglasses partly obscuring her face. A woman by herself, dressed casually, looking just a bit too relaxed.

He zeroed in. “Hey!” he called, stepping off the main path. Children’s laughter nearby faded into the background.

Caitlin raised her head. Her eyes, hidden behind tinted lenses, locked on the stocky officer approaching. “Afternoon,” she replied calmly, unsure what the man wanted.

Officer Cain rested a hand on his baton. “You been here long?” he asked, an edge in his voice.

Caitlin shrugged, keeping her tone polite. “Not really. Just taking a break, enjoying the sunshine.”

Cain let out a scoffing sound. “That so?” He glanced around, as though expecting to find some hidden reason to move her along. “You look like you don’t belong here.”

The statement was jarring, and Caitlin’s brow knit slightly. “Excuse me?” she said, removing her sunglasses to look him in the eye.

In that moment, Cain recognized who she was—Caitlin Clark, the basketball star. But instead of backing off, it seemed to annoy him more, perhaps from some twisted sense of jealousy or prejudice. “I said,” he repeated, voice gruff, “you look out of place. Move along.”

A strange hush fell over that corner of the park, as if the birds themselves knew trouble was brewing. A few people paused to watch from afar.

Caitlin refused to budge. Her posture was upright yet composed. “I’m not doing anything illegal,” she replied evenly. “I have a right to sit here.”

Cain’s knuckles whitened around the handle of his baton. “Don’t talk back to me,” he snarled. “You think being a hotshot athlete means you can just do whatever you want? I’m telling you to leave. Now.”

Alarm bells went off in Caitlin’s head. She’d encountered pushy fans and critics before, but rarely had she felt such open hostility from an authority figure. She swallowed, steeling herself. “I’m not breaking any rules,” she repeated, voice steady. “You’ve given me no reason—”

He didn’t let her finish. Fury contorted his face as he raised his baton. Time seemed to slow: the baton arced through the air, closing in on Caitlin’s back. A few nearby onlookers gasped, a child let out a startled cry, and cameras on phones began whirring to life.

The baton smacked across Caitlin’s shoulder blades with a dull thud. Pain jolted through her, and she inhaled sharply. The force nearly made her fall forward, but her years of conditioning kept her from toppling. Her heart pounded, adrenaline surging.

Some distance away, an elderly couple screamed, “Stop! You can’t do that!” Another voice shouted, “Somebody call the police!” which struck Caitlin as ironic, given that the perpetrator was the police.

Head lowered, Caitlin took a steadying breath and rose slowly from the bench. She towered over Cain by an inch or two, and though she was no martial artist, she knew how to stay balanced—her instincts honed from pivoting on the basketball court. “That was assault,” she said, voice low but resonating with anger. “You just assaulted an unarmed person.”

Officer Cain swung again, but this time Caitlin sidestepped. She was done being a passive target. In a flash, she caught the baton mid-swing, muscles tensing with athletic precision. The crowd gasped. Cain’s eyes widened, shock visible in the lines of his face.

“Let go!” he barked, jerking the baton. But Caitlin held firm, her teeth clenched. She wrenched the baton free from his grasp, letting it fall to the grass. It landed with a metallic clink, an ominous punctuation to his aggression.

Someone in the gathering crowd shouted, “We’re recording!” Others yelled, “She did nothing wrong!” and “Arrest him!” The chaos of voices blended into a roar. Cain’s rage was replaced with a creeping sense of alarm. He turned, seeing a line of phones pointed at him.

He whipped his head back to Caitlin, desperation flickering in his eyes. “You— you don’t know who you’re messing with,” he snarled, though the conviction in his tone was faltering.

Caitlin squared her shoulders. Her voice rang clear: “No, Officer, you don’t know who you’re messing with. You attacked a citizen for no reason—and you’re being recorded.”

His face twisted, and for a split second, it looked like he might lunge again. But the eyes on him, the cameras, the litany of calls to 911—he froze.

Moments later, two more uniformed officers rushed onto the scene, breathless from sprinting across the park. They skidded to a halt, taking in the bizarre tableau: Caitlin Clark standing steady, a baton on the grass, and Officer Cain trembling with fury. Around them, onlookers shouted about what happened, jostling to present their phone videos as evidence.

“What is going on here?” asked Officer Perez, a tall woman with cropped hair. Her gaze swept from Caitlin to Cain and back again.

Caitlin let out a controlled breath. “He demanded I leave, then struck me with his baton. Multiple times.”

The other officer, Jenkins, knelt to pick up the baton, frowning at Cain. “Is this true?” he asked, brow furrowing in disbelief.

Cain sputtered, “She—she was acting suspicious! I asked her to move along, and she resisted!”

“Resisted what?” Caitlin interjected. “I was sitting. Doing nothing.”

Officer Perez’s jaw tightened, and she spoke in a clipped tone, turning to Cain. “Hand over your badge. Now.”

Cain’s eyes flashed with panic. “You can’t be serious!”

“We have numerous witnesses, and it’s all on video,” Perez said coldly. “You assaulted a citizen without cause. You’re relieved of duty.”

A hush settled over the crowd, then turned into hushed cheers of approval. Cain slumped in disbelief. With shaking hands, he fumbled at his uniform, removing his badge. Jenkins discreetly took Cain’s firearm.

A wave of relief washed over Caitlin. The adrenaline still coursed through her, making her tremble slightly. But the worst had passed, and she was safe. Around her, relieved onlookers approached to offer words of support. A few recognized her now—the Caitlin Clark, unstoppable on the basketball court, now unstoppable in the face of injustice.

Officer Perez stepped up to Caitlin, voice softened. “Miss Clark, I’m so sorry. Are you injured? Do you need medical attention?”

Caitlin stretched her shoulders, wincing a bit but shaking her head. “I’ll be alright,” she said. “Though I’d like to file a formal complaint.”

Perez nodded. “Of course. We’ll handle everything right here. There will be a thorough investigation.”

Nearby, a little boy holding a miniature basketball stared wide-eyed at Caitlin. He tugged at his mother’s sleeve and whispered, “Is she a superhero?” Caitlin caught the question, offered the child a smile, and approached him.

“Not a superhero,” she said softly. “Just someone who doesn’t back down when something’s wrong.” She gently patted the basketball in his hands. “Keep practicing. One day, you might be the star everyone’s talking about.”

Overhead, the sun dipped behind a row of trees, casting long shadows across the lawn. The onlookers began to disperse, but the buzz of the incident lingered, traveling across social media faster than anyone could keep up. Footage of a racist cop swinging his baton at a calm Caitlin Clark was bound to go viral.

As paramedics checked her bruised shoulder, Caitlin stood quietly, reflecting on how a simple afternoon in the park had turned into an ugly confrontation. She felt anger, but also resolve—knowing that standing up mattered, that doing so might prevent future incidents.

In the end, the baton on the grass was more than a dropped weapon; it was the symbol of a crumbling abuse of power. And while Caitlin never sought the role of vigilante, she had shown, once again, that refusing to accept injustice—on or off the court—was the truest mark of a champion.

Caitlin Clark Says It’s ‘Disappointing’ Her Name Is Used for Racism, Misogyny Towards Other WNBA Players

The Indiana Fever rookie said “it’s not acceptable” for people to use her name to “push those agendas”

Caitlin Clark #22 of the Indiana Fever . Photo: Catalina Fragoso/NBAE via Getty

Indiana Fever rookie Caitlin Clark has spoken out against the online commenters using her name to spew racism and misogyny aimed at other WNBA players.

Before tipoff in the Fever’s 91-84 win over the Atlanta Dream on Thursday, June 13, a reporter from The Athletic asked Clark, 22, for her response to the hateful remarks made in her name.

“Yeah, I think it’s disappointing,” Clark said. “I think everybody in our world deserves the same amount of respect. The women in our league deserve the same amount of respect.”

The No. 1 overall draft pick continued, “People should not be using my name to push those agendas. It’s disappointing, it’s not acceptable.”

Clark explained that she “grew up admiring and wanting to be a part of” the WNBA and that “some of the women in this league” were her “biggest idols” growing up.

“Treating every single woman in this league with the same amount of respect, I think, is just a basic human thing that everybody should do,” Clark said. “Just be a kind person and treat them how you would want to be treated. I think that’s very simple.”

Earlier in the day, the WNBA star was asked a similar question but lightly skirted around the topic by saying she keeps her focus on basketball rather than outside noise.

“I don’t put too much thought and time into thinking about things like that, and to be honest, I don’t see a lot of it,” Clark said. “Basketball is my job. Everything on the outside, I can’t control that, so I’m not going to spend time thinking about that.”

Caitlin Clark.David Berding/Getty

Clark’s initial response to the topic seemingly fell flat with Connecticut Sun guard Dijonai Carrington, who took to X (formerly known as Twitter) with a pointed response.

“Dawg. How one can not be bothered by their name being used to justify racism, bigotry, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia & the intersectionalities of them all is nuts,” Carrington, 26, wrote in her post.

“We all see the s—. We all have a platform. We all have a voice & they all hold weight. Silence is a luxury.”

Since she was drafted into the WNBA, Clark’s popularity has brought with it positive and negative discourse around her impact on women’s basketball.

Clark’s introduction to the league sparked debate over a handful of topics, including accusations that other players are committing harder fouls on her, and players like Angel Reese saying the growth isn’t because of just “one player” amid narratives that Clark is the sole reason for the WNBA’s exponential success this season. The online discourse stormed up again earlier this week when the Fever rookie was left off of the Olympic roster.

Clark, though, said she understood the decision.

“Honestly, no disappointment,” Clark said. “I think it just gives you something to work for. It’s a dream. Hopefully one day I can be there. I think it’s just a little more motivation. You remember that, and hopefully in four years when four years comes back around, I can be there.”