When the WNBA dropped its playoff promotional graphic/feed for the postseason, fans were caught off guard.

The league’s official social media channels shared artwork featuring one player from each playoff team, with a tagline like “The stage is set.” But something felt very off to many: Caitlin Clark, the league’s breakout star and one of its main draws, was missing.

Immediately, social media erupted. Many expressed disbelief, frustration, even anger that someone so central to the league’s recent surge in popularity would be omitted.

Critics accused the WNBA of undercounting Clark’s value, of being tone‑deaf to what drives fan engagement, and of failing to recognize or promote the very players who are helping grow the league’s audience.

To understand how bad the misstep was, you need to consider what Clark represents for women’s basketball right now. She’s become a transcendent figure—generating massive interest, pulling in new viewers, boosting attendance, racking up social media followership, endorsements, and a level of mainstream visibility rare for even rising WNBA stars.

Leaving her off a promotional graphic – especially for her playoff debut – isn’t just a small oversight. It looks like a massive missed opportunity.

Fans didn’t let it go quietly. Some posted side‑by‑side comparisons: graphics where Clark wasn’t, versus others where she clearly should have been included. Others questioned the motivations behind the exclusion: Was it a mistake? Was it internal politics? Bias?

Was the league trying to promote “balance” by not leaning too heavily into one player? Or was it something more questionable? Jason Whitlock, for example, publicly criticized the omission, speculating about racial motivations.

Part of the backlash stems from how obvious the mistake was in hindsight. Clark isn’t just “one player among many” right now. She’s a marketing force. Her presence sells tickets, generates media coverage, creates conversation.

Many fans feel the graphic should have featured her front and center—not tucked away or entirely omitted. When the league fails to feature its biggest stars in key moments, it undercuts its own strategy of growth.

Some fans tried to give the league the benefit of the doubt: that maybe it was an honest error, oversight, or miscommunication. But many others said mistakes of this kind—especially regarding such a high‑profile player—can’t be chalked up to simple oversight.

They argue that the league’s promotional and marketing teams should be attuned to what’s driving attention, what’s driving revenue and viewership, and acting accordingly. The criticism: WNBA hasn’t caught up structurally with the rate at which its stars are rising in popularity.

There’s also a secondary dimension to the backlash: equity, representation, and what fans see as fairness. Some felt that the omission was disrespectful not just to Clark, but to fans who have rallied around her.

When supporters buy tickets, merchandise, tune in because of her, hype her media appearances, there’s an expectation: the league will recognize that investment and visibility. Leaving her out of a major playoff promo felt to many like the league was ignoring or under‑serving its own rising brand.

The WNBA’s misfire with this promotion also raises questions about consistency. For a league trying to expand its reach, build larger audiences, increase sponsor engagement, and compete in the crowded sports/entertainment media space, every promotional moment matters.

When they invite scrutiny—especially from fans who are more active on social media—each misstep gets amplified. Clark’s omission became headline news in sports media, not just fan threads, which means the league’s brand takes a hit not just among hardcore fans but among casual observers and potential new viewers.

In response—or rather after the backlash—fans, analysts, and commentators pointed to other instances where the league has seemed slow to lean into star power or failed to match promotional efforts with audience interest.

For example, a heavily anticipated game in Boston (Connecticut Sun vs. Los Angeles Sparks) drew a sell‑out crowd and was historic, yet many criticized the league for not putting the game on national television or promoting it widely. The response was that the Sun themselves had to push the promo.

Some more pointed takes: fans said that if the WNBA doesn’t acknowledge that stars like Clark are essential, they risk alienating the growing fanbase she’s helped bring in. That could stall momentum.

Others said this was exactly the kind of thing that undercuts efforts to make the league more mainstream—mistakes that make even devoted fans question how seriously the league treats its own stars.

The outcomes of such a promo‑backfire can be expensive—not just in public relations, but in dollars. Missed opportunities for TV viewership, weaker sponsor enthusiasm, fans less likely to engage with content when they think the league overlooks what they care about.

Also, when fans perceive bias or unfair treatment, trust erodes. And in sports, trust is part of what keeps fans tuned in, buying merchandise, following players, attending games.

Now, what might the WNBA do (or should do) to repair the situation? First, acknowledgment. Saying publicly, “we made a mistake by omitting Caitlin Clark, we know how important she is, we value her, here’s how we’ll correct this moving forward” would be a start.

Then, structural changes—ensuring that any playoff or marquee promotional content includes not just representatives from all teams, but also any athlete who is driving viewership or fan attention. Maybe build in a “star‑spotlight” policy for graphics.

Also, the league could engage more transparently with the fans: explain why the omission happened, what processes exist for selecting promo graphics, who signs off, who reviews, etc. If there’s legitimacy to claims of bias or exclusion, those need to be addressed—not just for optics but for fairness and credibility.

Another remedy: create promo content with stars like Clark more deeply involved—making her part of the decision or creative process, giving her voice, letting her help shape how she’s featured. That could help ensure alignment between what fans want and what the league puts out.

More broadly, investing in marketing at the local and national level around star players, especially in playoff moments, must be a priority. The league is growing, but growth is fragile, especially when missteps give fodder to critics.

Maximizing moments where fan interest peaks (star debuts, big matchups, milestone games) will reap more in long‑term loyalty and viewership.

In the end, this promo backfire shows that the WNBA has made huge progress—but that progress brings higher expectations. Fans are no longer forgiving of misrecognition or what feels like neglect.

When the league misses such obvious promotional wins—like including its biggest draw in playoff materials—they risk undermining its own narrative of rising popularity and respect.

If handled well, this could become a turning point. If ignored, it could sow distrust and hamper momentum. Either way, one thing is clear: fans want the league to see and celebrate its stars, not sideline them—especially when those stars are helping build the future of women’s basketball.