Bill Simmons has been among the loudest voices pointing out that Caitlin Clark isn’t just another rising star—she might be the rising star changing the conversation in U.S. professional sports.

On his podcast, Simmons posed a provocative question: is Clark a bigger star under 30 than any player in the NBA under 30? He didn’t hedge. He said yes, stating that her influence is undeniable, that she’s acted like a catalyst for a shift in how women’s basketball is perceived.

One of the concrete pieces of evidence Simmons (and other commentators) cite is viewership. Before and since Caitlin Clark entered the WNBA, certain games with her have drawn large audiences, broken viewership records, and pushed spectatorship in ways that the league has not quite seen in recent years.

 Her popularity has shown up in attendance too, jersey sales, social media buzz—basically the kinds of metrics leagues love.

Here’s where tensions arise. Simmons has criticized the WNBA for what he perceives as missed opportunities. For example, in scheduling its marquee games, the league, according to Simmons, has not fully capitalized on peak viewing times or set things up to maximize exposure.

He argues that with Clark’s arrival and her immediate draw, the WNBA had a chance to “blow this league out” in terms of mainstream relevance and viewership, but that some old scheduling habits or reluctance to change have somewhat dampened the momentum.

Another part of the critique is cultural. Simmons says that for many casual sports fans, Caitlin Clark is their entry point into following women’s basketball. Because Clark was so visible—and because her college career already built her into a household name—when she came into the league, many viewers followed.

That means the league’s growth is now tied, in part, to how she’s presented, how much the public sees her, how accessible her story is.

The claim is that this puts pressure on the WNBA to not just rely on what has been done before—broadcasts, typical marketing—but to think bigger, adapt to newfound interest.

This has led to some friction. Some current or former players seem uncomfortable with comparisons placing Clark above established NBA stars.

There’s also a sense, voiced by analysts and sports media, that parts of the WNBA infrastructure—marketing, scheduling, league promotion, perhaps even internal perceptions—haven’t entirely adjusted to treat Clark’s arrival as the game changer that many fans and outside observers believe she is.

It’s not clear that the league is “furious” in an active sense, but there is evidence of defensiveness and criticism coming both from within the WNBA community and from media commentators.

But where it gets interesting is how this “Clark boom” forces uncomfortable questions. Is the WNBA built (or ready) to handle this kind of stardom the way major men’s sports are?

Are they structuring things—timing games, promoting players, ensuring media deals—in a way that maximizes what could be a turning point? Or are they holding some status quo more than adapting? Simmons thinks some of those answers point to underperformance.

There’s also pushback—or at least skepticism—from some corners. Not everyone agrees that Clark is “bigger under 30 than every NBA star,” or that she is the singular reason behind WNBA’s growing popularity.

Some argue that the league as a whole—other star players, the quality of play, better broadcasting and media attention—are playing large roles.

Others worry that focusing too much on one player might overshadow the rest of the league, create imbalances, or stir resentment. These are valid concerns, and part of the debate Simmons has helped elevate.

Within those arguments is the question of fairness: what players, existing star power, and women in general deserve credit for building the foundation that made it possible for someone like Clark to flourish.

Some believe that new attention risks minimizing the contributions of prior players or failing to uplift others who haven’t received as much spotlight. So there’s a tension between celebrating Clark’s meteoric rise and ensuring everyone in the WNBA benefits.

Finally, what’s likely to happen going forward depends on whether the WNBA leans into the moment or resists it.

If they lean in—by promoting prime-time games around her presence, ensuring media coverage is broad, giving her fair marketing, building narratives, investing in visibility—the “Clark effect” could translate into structural gains: more revenue, bigger TV deals, more interest at grassroots level.

If not, there’s a risk that the energy dims, or that fans become frustrated with inconsistency or missed promise. Bill Simmons seems convinced enough that he expects the former—and that the league’s future could be significantly different because of Clark.