In the new era of the WNBA, a fragile truce has been broken. For months, millions of new fans, drawn in by the magnetic talent of Caitlin Clark, have poured their money, time, and energy into the league. They filled arenas, shattered viewership records, and bought merchandise at an unprecedented rate. In return, they were just handed a slap in the face. Scott Agnes, a journalist with deep access to the Indiana Fever, looked at this wave of passionate support and labeled it the “dark side.”

In a piece discussing the Fever’s rise to prominence, Agnes wrote that the team has to deal with online “nastiness” from fans who “are only there for Clark,” concluding that this “dark side can easily seep into the team.” With those few words, he ignited a firestorm, not because he was wrong about online negativity, but because he framed the entire passionate, invested, and demanding fanbase as a toxic force.

What, exactly, constitutes this “darkness”? According to the growing frustration online, it’s simply being a real sports fan. It’s the fan who is furious after a bad loss. It’s the fan who posts “Fire the coach!” after a poorly executed offensive set. It’s the fan who boos an opposing player who has a history with their star. These are not radical, toxic behaviors; they are the universally understood actions of a fanbase that cares. They happen every single Sunday in the NFL and every night of the week in the NBA. No one calls the Laker faithful a “dark side” when they demand accountability, and no one accuses the Philadelphia Eagles’ fanbase of toxicity for being notoriously tough. They are simply recognized as passionate.

Yet, when this same energy arrives in the WNBA, it’s treated as an invading force. The hypocrisy is staggering. Commentators and media members express shock and disapproval when Fever fans boo DeWanna Bonner for her past actions toward Clark, yet they say nothing when opposing arenas boo Fever players like Sophie Cunningham every time she touches the ball. The message seems to be that passion is only acceptable when it’s directed at Clark’s team, not when it emanates from her supporters.

This controversy also exposes the tiresome gatekeeping that has plagued Clark’s entire professional career. Agnes’s assertion that these fans “aren’t Fever or basketball fans” because they are “only there for Clark” is an argument that insults sports history. Did anyone claim that the hordes of fans who flocked to the NBA in the 1980s weren’t “real basketball fans” because they were there for Magic Johnson or Larry Bird? Was the global explosion of basketball’s popularity in the 90s illegitimate because it was built on the back of Michael Jordan? Of course not. Transcendent superstars are the gateway. They are the ones who bring new eyes to the sport, and those eyes belong to people who become invested. They feel they have a stake in the team’s success because they’ve put their money where their mouth is.

The most unsettling question arising from this incident is just how far the sentiment goes. As a beat writer, Agnes is closer to the organization than most. Does his view reflect a quiet frustration within the Indiana Fever’s front office? Is the team, and the league at large, uncomfortable with the scrutiny that comes with being on the national stage? It’s easy to celebrate sell-out crowds and blockbuster TV deals, but it’s much harder to accept the criticism, the demands, and the raw emotion that comes with that level of attention.

If the Fever organization shares this view of its new fans, it is profoundly fumbling a golden opportunity. They have the chance to solidify themselves as America’s team, but that requires embracing the fanbase in its entirety—not just their wallets, but their voices, too. Alienating them by painting their passion as a negative force is a surefire way to see those wallets slam shut and those television sets turn off.

The fans aren’t the problem. They are behaving exactly as expected. They are loud, demanding, and fiercely loyal to the player who brought them here. They are not a “dark side”; they are what a major league sports fanbase looks like. The real question is whether the WNBA and the Indiana Fever were ever truly prepared to join the big time.