CARLTON FLETCHER: The WNBA … where ‘thug life’ is the league’s biggest(only) selling point

I hear you saying I need a bad girl, oh. Let me hear you if you’re a bad girl, oh. Players, when you see me Act like you know me … If you’re a bad girl, Get at me, bad girl.

— Usher

My buddy Joe Whitfield, The Albany Herald’s sports editor – and an excellent one, I might add – has this quirk that Phil Cody and I give him hell about all the time.

Although a pretty much normal sports guy in every other respect – a guy who lives and dies with the Georgia Bulldogs, knows who’s who on the local high school sports teams, and cares about the ups and downs of the Atlanta Braves – Joe actually cares about the WNBA.

And I don’t mean he is amazed by the talents of Caitlin Clark; hell, any sports fan who’s seen her play knows she’s a once-in-a-generation talent. Joe actually knows things like … well, the name of the teams in the league, the names of players other than the ones who are the latest to knock Clark senseless or the ones who make what is the latest in a constant litany of sexist and racist comments.

Phil and I were momentarily stunned the other day when Joe proclaimed, “The Dream (that’s Atlanta’s WNBA team, we found out) is going to the finals.” I think it was Phil – also a huge UGA fan and an actual alumnus, not like the overwhelming majority of folks who wear the red and black and cry loudest when the Dogs lose even though they’ve never been inside any of the university’s facilities that aren’t Sanford Stadium – who first said what we both were thinking: “So?”

The WNBA – and, let’s be honest here: the “W” is the primary issue for sports fans like Phil and me … women, through no fault of their own – it’s anatomy and genetics – are just not very skilled, nor are they very athletic, not to the point where anyone without a large discretionary budget would want to watch them play, and especially pay money for it. (I know that sounds sexist, but it’s the truth.)

And here’s perhaps the oddest thing about the WNBA’s marketing plan: The league doesn’t highlight the skills of someone like Clark. Instead, they play up the latest jealous player to hit her, scratch her, step on her neck or otherwise abuse her. And the league makes sure all the latest racist comments directed toward Clark are highlighted on the blogs and sports wires the next day.

(Can you imagine the NBA allowing similar antics surrounding Larry Bird when he was on his way to becoming one of the league’s Top 10 players ever? No, the NBA – and its star players – recognized Bird’s talents and weren’t so insecure or race-conscious that they used his white-ness against him. The WNBA … apparently, that’s their big selling point.)

When NBA players and teams become mature in the game, they become some of the sports world’s model citizens. The WNBA, perhaps suffering from some kind of inferior identity crisis, would rather its players become the thugs that they are rather than showcasing what talents they might have.

There are the aforementioned attacks on Clark that are magnified each night, but there are other instances of thugism: Challenging fans in the stands, bragging about their efforts to hurt opposing players who maybe got a little too much attention, and trying to turn any situation that doesn’t please them into a matter of sex or race.

We get it: Y’all are all bad girls, and you’ll do whatever it takes to show the world. Thing is, except for a few creeps who live for that kind of thing, not a lot of people are willing to pay big money to see such thuggism or hear the latest rant about how mistreated the players are.

Also, while many “fans” seem to be OK with the WNBA players leaving the court during the playing of the National Anthem so that they don’t have to show respect for a country that’s providing them a comfortable living doing the only thing most of them are any good at, I find it disgusting that they have such disrespect for their country and their fans.

So, Joe, you watch the WNBA. We won’t hold it against you. And maybe you can even keep Phil and me up on which of these “star athletes” is the latest to attack their best player only because she’s white, and which one is wearing a provocative T-shirt to the arena in support of a cause that shows they’re socially aware.

Frankly, though – and I don’t speak for Phil or other sports fans – the WNBA could dry up and blow away tomorrow, and my concern level would be minus 0. Let it go away, and then see what kind of jobs these thug-ettes can find in a market where being tall is not the primary skill.