When Caitlin Clark steps onto a golf course on November 12th for the LPGA’s Pro-Am event, she’ll be swinging a golf club. But for many who have followed her tumultuous rookie season in the WNBA, that swing will feel symbolic. It will represent a “refreshing” change of pace, a brief vacation into a world of unabashed appreciation. More importantly, it will cast a long, uncomfortable shadow over her own professional league, highlighting a stark, painful contrast in how two major sports organizations handle a generational “phenom.”

One league, the LPGA, has rolled out the red carpet. The other, the WNBA, has been accused of rolling out the tripwires.

The news of Clark’s return to the event has brought back vivid memories of her last appearance, an event that became a case study in smart promotion and genuine respect. As video from last year’s event shows, the “Caitlin Clark effect” was in full force, but the most telling moments came from the other professional athletes. LPGA players were seen actively seeking her out, introducing themselves, and thanking her.

“I wanted to come say hi,” LPGA pro Maria Fassi was heard telling Clark. “Thank you for being out here. It’s very cool what you’re doing for sports, kicking ass on and off.”

This was the prevailing attitude. It was a league and a player base that “understood the assignment.” They saw Clark’s “gravitational pull” not as a threat, but as a rising tide. They recognized that the thousands of fans “dang there jumping over the rope” to get her autograph were not just good for Caitlin Clark; they were good for the entire sport of women’s golf. The LPGA leaned in, promoting her presence so heavily that networks reportedly had to change their broadcast plans to get her on the air.

As one commentator, Izzy of “FLY HIPPIE,” noted, it was a masterclass in promotion. “The LPGA last year, man, they showed the W exactly what you supposed to do when you have a Phenom like Caitlyn Clark,” he said. “How they was promoting her, how they were lifting her up.”

And that’s the rub. This celebration of Clark felt so “refreshing” to so many, including the host, precisely because it was the polar opposite of the reception she received in her own house.

To put it bluntly, while the LPGA was saying “thank you,” the WNBA, from its players to its veterans, was often saying “who do you think you are?”

This wasn’t just about tough rookie defense or a “welcome to the league” moment. The narrative that unfolded throughout the 2024 WNBA season was one of pervasive, personal “disdain.” As the host put it, “it was so crazy how people was just disrespecting her, just ungrateful for what Caitlyn Clark was doing for the league.”

The grievances are now well-documented. It was the “eye poke.” It was the “shove over” from Kennedy Carter. It was the shove from Diamond DeShields. It was Angel Reese “slapping her in the head.” These incidents, replayed ad nauseam, went beyond hard-nosed competition and veered into territory that looked, to many, like targeted resentment.

But the “nonsense,” as the host calls it, wasn’t confined to the hardwood. The most shocking attacks came from off the court. WNBA legend Sheryl Swoopes launched a factually inaccurate tirade against Clark’s college accomplishments before she had even played a pro game. Other media figures and former players seemed to join the pile-on. One prominent voice, DJ, was criticized for bizarrely demanding that Clark, a 22-year-old rookie, needed to be a “civil rights movement leader” and single-handedly “tell grown people how to act.”

The host was dumbfounded. “I’m like fam, she’s 22. You want her to be a civil rights leader at the age of 22? Come on, man, stop it.”

The critique was clear: there’s a difference between healthy competition and a concerted effort to tear down the league’s biggest draw. It’s one thing to compete, which, as the host notes, “is what we want on the floor.” It’s another to “go out of the way to disrespect her.”

This “gratitude deficit” seemed to permeate the entire sport, right to the top. Critics pointed out that even WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert seemed reluctant to fully credit Clark for the league’s astronomical surge in viewership, ratings, and ticket sales. “All your games were Indiana Fever games that hit the millions… except the finals,” the host argues. “Come on, man, the proof is in the pudding.”

The WNBA’s own promotional efforts were called “weird,” with the league’s official Twitter account often seeming to actively avoid highlighting its biggest star. It was, as the host claims, as if they “did their darnedest to make sure Caitlyn Clark wasn’t the main attraction.”

This is the core of the frustration. Why would a league, desperate for the mainstream attention Clark was delivering, actively work against its own interests? The contrast with the LPGA is what makes the WNBA’s actions so baffling. The LPGA saw the “gravitational pull” and used it to lift everyone. The WNBA saw the same pull and seemed to view it as a personal insult.

This isn’t about asking other players to “kiss Caitlyn Clark’s butt,” a point the host makes explicitly. This is about basic business acumen and professional respect. It’s about not “thinking white and black,” as the host describes the racially charged undertones of the discourse, but instead thinking about the health and growth of the game.

Now, as Clark prepares to be celebrated by another sport, the WNBA is left to reflect. The host’s hope is that Clark’s groin, which she presumably injured during the WNBA season, is “at 100%” for the golf swing and, more importantly, for the 2025 WNBA season. “Boy, was it needed,” he says, lamenting the loss of her “exciting” game.

Her return to the court is vital for the league. But the league’s long-term health may depend on a much larger question: Can it finally learn from the LPGA? Can it learn to “take some notes” and understand that gratitude is not “glazing”? Can it learn that you can compete fiercely with a player on the court while still appreciating what her presence means for your paycheck and your profession off the court?

Caitlin Clark will be on a golf course in November, smiling, signing autographs, and being thanked. For the WNBA, it should be a wake-up call, a free lesson from a sister league on how to treat a star. Because if they don’t learn it soon, the “refreshing” feeling Clark gets from golf might start to look like a permanent vacation.