It was only a matter of time before the Caitlin Clark effect proved itself more than hype — and now the numbers are coming in to back it up. Sports media has been quick to point out how much the WNBA owes its surge in visibility to Clark’s rookie year, but what’s emerging now is that media isn’t the only entity cooling off on the league.

Early reports suggest TV ratings and ticket sales have begun to dip in games where Clark isn’t playing, exposing the fragile foundation of the league’s recent growth.

In markets without the Fever, attendance spikes that were being celebrated just months ago are tapering off. Games that once drew headlines for sellouts now show empty rows of seats, particularly when Clark isn’t part of the matchup. Analysts are quietly acknowledging that the “Clark bump” may not translate to sustainable growth unless the league figures out how to leverage her popularity into broader fan engagement. Simply put: fans want Caitlin, and when she’s not there, many are tuning out.

The television side paints an even sharper picture. National broadcasts featuring Clark and the Fever consistently shattered WNBA viewership records, delivering numbers networks hadn’t seen in years. But recent games without her have slid back into the league’s historically modest ratings territory. That contrast is raising red flags for broadcasters who signed expensive deals expecting consistent audience growth across the board. Without Clark, the product looks a lot more like the pre-2024 WNBA — niche, overlooked, and struggling to maintain traction.

Fans have noticed too. On social media, posts complaining about “boring” games without Clark trend after each broadcast, with some even mocking networks for promoting marquee matchups that flop in terms of excitement or star power. Even other rookies and established stars haven’t been able to replicate her magnetism. The league, once quick to tout Clark as a “gateway” to women’s basketball, now faces the awkward truth: that gateway is still wide open, but most fans aren’t staying unless she’s playing.

For players, the issue is complicated. Some veterans bristle at the idea that Clark is being elevated above the rest of the league, but others privately admit they’ve never seen arenas this full or media this interested until she arrived. The frustration grows when those same arenas look half-empty the moment she’s sidelined. In other words, the WNBA’s new reality is that Clark isn’t just a star — she’s the star, and that dependence could prove both a blessing and a curse.

The business side is where this could hurt the most. Sponsors who poured money into the league this year did so largely on the strength of Clark’s historic draw. If ticket sales and viewership outside of Fever games continue to slip, partners may begin to demand more Clark-centric promotions or rethink their investments altogether. That could deepen tensions in a league already wrestling with questions of fairness, favoritism, and how much it should revolve around one player.

What’s most alarming for executives is how quickly the cooling-off effect is happening. Typically, a league rides a wave of excitement for several seasons before momentum wanes. In this case, the WNBA’s dependence on Clark is being exposed in real time, barely a year into her career. That urgency raises the question: is the league capable of spreading the spotlight, or is it destined to rise and fall with one player’s every move?

For now, fans and critics alike see the same thing — the WNBA is vibrant when Caitlin Clark is on the floor, but vulnerable without her. And unless leadership figures out a way to build on her star power rather than just ride it, the cooling-off narrative could cement itself as more than a temporary slump.