qq I saw those photos — and they said more than any headline could.

In the world of sports, momentum is everything. For the last two years, the narrative surrounding women’s basketball has been one of explosive, unstoppable growth. We were told the game had finally “arrived.” We were told that decades of advocacy had reached a tipping point and that the mainstream audience was here to stay. But a recent, stark image from a UCLA post-game press conference has shattered that illusion, forcing an uncomfortable conversation that many in the industry have been desperate to avoid.
The Empty Room That Said It All
The scene was set for what should have been a marquee moment. UCLA women’s basketball, a powerhouse program, had just played the only ranked matchup of the entire day. Yet, when Head Coach Cori Close walked into the media room, she wasn’t met by a phalanx of cameras or a sea of reporters. She was met by rows of empty chairs.
Only one media member showed up.

“My instant reaction is, ‘Oh, how quickly they forget,’” Close said, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and resignation. “No Clark, no spark.”
It was a candid admission that cut through the PR spin. Close pointed out the “Caitlin Clark Effect” in reverse: the rapid abandonment of the sport by the media now that its biggest star has moved on. “I didn’t care about women’s college basketball until I heard of Caitlin Clark… guilty as charged,” the narrator of the viral report admitted, echoing the sentiment of millions of casual fans. “And neither did ESPN, neither did Fox Sports.”
The “Clark Cliff” is Real
The numbers backing Coach Close’s frustration are undeniable and alarming. During Caitlin Clark’s senior year at Iowa, games were pulling in 2 to 3 million viewers regularly. The National Championship game shattered records with 18.7 million viewers, beating out the NBA and MLB. But now? The drop-off is precipitous.
Without Clark, women’s college basketball viewership is down roughly 70% from those peaks. Iowa, the program that was once the center of the sporting universe, has seen its viewership plummet from millions to around 800,000. Even the undefeated, #1 ranked South Carolina Gamecocks are averaging around 600,000 viewers. These are respectable numbers for niche sports, but they are a far cry from the mainstream dominance of the Clark era.
The “rising tide” that was supposed to lift all boats turns out to have been a tsunami generated by a single player. Now that the wave has passed, the boats are stuck in the mud. The casual fans didn’t fall in love with the sport; they fell in love with the superstar. And when she left for the WNBA, they took their remote controls with them.

The Nike “Bucket” Fiasco
Nothing illustrates this retreat of effort quite like the recent controversy surrounding Paige Bueckers and Nike. Bueckers, a phenomenal talent and the projected #1 WNBA pick, was supposed to be the next torchbearer. Yet, when Nike unveiled her signature logo, the internet collectively gasped—and not in a good way.
The design is, quite literally, a bucket. Not a stylized hoop, not a creative play on her initials, but a simple, clip-art style paint bucket.
Critics are calling it “slop” and “garbage,” comparing it to a generic icon you’d find at a hardware store. “This is the logo you get when you just don’t want to put in any effort,” the report scorns. When you compare it to the carefully crafted brands of male athletes—or even the massive 8-year, multimillion-dollar deal Nike rushed to give Clark—the disparity is insulting. It signals that major corporations are checking a box rather than investing in a future they truly believe in. They aren’t convinced Bueckers can move product like Clark did, and the low-effort branding proves it.
The “Unrivaled” Silence
Perhaps the most worrying sign for the industry is the quiet launch of “Unrivaled,” the new 3-on-3 league founded by Breanna Stewart and Napheesa Collier. On paper, it sounds revolutionary: huge salaries, equity for players, and a condensed, exciting format. But with tip-off just days away, the mainstream buzz is non-existent.
Why? Because the league is missing the only names that move the needle for the general public: Caitlin Clark, A’ja Wilson, and Sabrina Ionescu. Without them, the media machine has ignored it. Outlets that ran daily WNBA segments six months ago aren’t even mentioning it. It’s a harsh reminder that “star power” is not a luxury in sports entertainment; it is a necessity.
A Hard Truth for the Future
The industry spent two years selling a story that the popularity of women’s basketball had become self-sustaining. Coach Cori Close’s empty press room proves that was a lie. The sport hasn’t failed—the talent is there, the games are competitive—but the business model was built on an anomaly.
“Caitlin Clark was not proof that women’s basketball had permanently arrived,” the report concludes. “She was proof of what happens when star power, timing, and talent collide.”
The road ahead requires a painful recalibration. Leagues and networks need to stop pretending that parity exists and start doing the hard work of actually building the next generation of stars—not just anointing them and hoping for the best. Until then, the ghost of Caitlin Clark will continue to haunt every empty seat and every dipping ratings chart. The party is over, and the cleanup has just begun.


