The WNBA is finally seeing the kind of growth its supporters have long hoped for. Attendance is up over 40%, merchandise sales are surging by 500%, and media coverage has never been stronger. After decades of financial struggles, the league is turning a corner—and at the center of it all stands Caitlin Clark, a rookie who has arguably done more to put the WNBA on the map than any single player in recent memory.

But instead of celebrating the newfound momentum, some players appear to be letting resentment get the better of them.

Kelsey Plum of the Los Angeles Sparks recently drew backlash for comments made during a union-led effort calling for increased player pay. While players wore matching t-shirts in a show of solidarity, Plum couldn’t help but take a swipe at Clark’s absence, stating that “zero members of Team Clark” were present for the protest.

The league, which currently pays players just 9% of overall revenue (compared to the NBA’s 50%), is undeniably due for a raise. But Plum’s remark hit a nerve—not because the cause isn’t just, but because it seemed to target the very person responsible for helping create the leverage they now possess.

Caitlin Clark has only been in the WNBA a few months, but her impact is undeniable. She’s drawn national attention, boosted ratings, sold out arenas, and even changed travel arrangements—teams that once flew coach are now flying private. In other words, she’s the league’s golden goose.

So why peck at her?

It’s one thing to demand better compensation. It’s another to fracture the image of unity by publicly blaming a rookie who has already done more for the WNBA’s financial future than most. Clark, for her part, has stayed silent amid the criticism—a move many see as classy given the circumstances.

The bigger issue is the tone of the protest itself. Players absolutely deserve more than a 9% revenue share, especially with the league now drawing serious money. But undermining the very person fueling that growth is shortsighted, at best.

Think of it like this: a struggling band adds a new member, and suddenly they’re staying at luxury hotels instead of budget motels. Do you complain that the new member’s songs are getting more airtime—or do you ride the wave and enjoy the upgrade?

Veterans in the WNBA have every right to speak up for fair treatment. What they shouldn’t do is bite the hand that’s feeding their newfound success. Instead of alienating Clark, she should be embraced—not only for what she’s done so far, but for what she can still do for the league in the long term.

After all, this is just the beginning. Clark’s first year hasn’t even been her best—injuries and the adjustment to pro-level competition have made it a rocky debut. But the potential is massive. Think of her as the Michael Jordan of women’s basketball, still in her early chapters.

And yes, Clark is already rich—thanks to over $1 million in endorsements—but that doesn’t make her the enemy. It makes her a living, breathing proof-of-concept: women’s basketball can be a major business. That’s something every WNBA player stands to benefit from.

The sad truth is that by turning internal frustrations into public potshots, players risk damaging the very momentum they’re working so hard to build. The league isn’t out of the woods yet. And while it’s never been hotter, growth is fragile. Infighting sends the wrong message—to fans, to sponsors, and to young girls who look up to these athletes as role models.

This isn’t just about t-shirts. It’s about maturity. About perspective. And about recognizing that sometimes, the best thing you can do for a cause is to support the person leading the charge—even if you didn’t vote for them to be the face of it.

Caitlin Clark didn’t ask to be the WNBA’s golden ticket. But she is. And instead of tearing her down, the league’s veterans should be thanking her—quietly or loudly—for helping them finally board the flight to a better future.