Caitlin Clark’s Prolonged Shooting Slump Sparks Outrage as Kelsey Plum Calls Out WNBA’s Unspoken Truth Behind Her Struggles

Caitlin Clark’s Prolonged Shooting Slump Sparks Outrage as Kelsey Plum Calls Out WNBA’s Unspoken Truth Behind Her Struggles

Caitlin Clark arrived in the WNBA with the kind of fanfare few rookies have ever experienced. The No. 1 overall pick, collegiate all-time scoring leader, and media darling was expected to not just contribute—but to dominate. For months leading up to her debut, analysts, fans, and sponsors alike predicted that Clark would be the savior of women’s basketball. However, the start to her professional career has been anything but smooth. A frustrating shooting slump has consumed the former Iowa star, leaving fans puzzled and critics vocal. Now, Kelsey Plum, one of the league’s most outspoken veterans and a proven scorer herself, has weighed in—and her comments have stirred the pot.

Through her first several weeks in the league, Clark’s shooting numbers have been alarmingly inconsistent. Once known for her limitless range and ability to take over games with her scoring, she now appears hesitant, rushed, and at times overwhelmed. Shooting below 40 percent from the field and struggling even more from beyond the arc, her statistics stand in stark contrast to the player who routinely torched Big Ten defenses and shattered NCAA records.

But why is this happening? Is it just rookie jitters, or is there more to the story?

According to Kelsey Plum, the answer lies far beyond the court. In a candid interview following a recent Las Vegas Aces game, Plum didn’t mince words. “Look, Caitlin’s a great player, and she’s going to be fine,” Plum began. “But we need to stop pretending like she’s the problem. The way she’s being officiated, the way defenders are allowed to get physical with her, it’s honestly embarrassing for the league.”

Plum went on to explain that Clark is being targeted—both by opposing players and, indirectly, by officiating inconsistencies that have allowed overly aggressive defense to go unchecked. “There’s a difference between tough defense and straight-up bullying,” Plum added. “We say we want to protect our stars, grow the game, bring in new fans. But then we let this kind of stuff slide? What message are we sending?”

Her words echoed sentiments shared by others in the league and across media platforms, but few had said it as directly. Plum, a former No. 1 pick herself and one of the most respected guards in the WNBA, understands what it means to enter the league with expectations. Her comments added a much-needed layer of context to the discussion about Clark’s early-season performance.

For her part, Clark has taken the high road. She’s repeatedly deflected attention away from herself and credited teammates, coaching, and effort—even when results haven’t followed. “I’m still learning every game,” Clark said in a recent post-game interview. “This league is full of elite players, and I know it’s going to take time. I just have to keep working.”

That level-headedness is admirable, but it doesn’t mask the truth: Clark is being treated differently. It’s not uncommon for rookies to get roughed up early in their careers, especially if they come in with a massive spotlight. But for Clark, it seems amplified. Opposing defenders are clearly making it their mission to disrupt her rhythm. She’s getting bodied off screens, trapped full court, and baited into frustration. The message seems clear: welcome to the WNBA, rookie.

This sort of hazing isn’t new in professional sports, but with someone as high-profile as Clark, it carries added weight. She’s not just any player—she’s a marketing machine, a cultural icon, and a ratings magnet. And whether the league admits it or not, her success is deeply tied to the future of WNBA visibility. The pressure, understandably, is enormous.

However, what’s alarming to many observers, and what Plum’s comments highlight, is the lack of protection Clark seems to be receiving. In the NBA, stars get calls. LeBron James, Stephen Curry, Luka Dončić—they earn the benefit of the doubt. But in the WNBA, where parity is both a strength and a challenge, star treatment isn’t guaranteed. And in Clark’s case, the resistance to giving her that benefit may come from within.

Multiple insiders have pointed to a silent but growing tension between Clark and some of the league’s veterans. There’s a belief that she hasn’t “earned” her stardom, that the media attention she receives dwarfs her accomplishments in the eyes of some players who have toiled in relative obscurity for years. It’s not jealousy, per se—but it’s definitely a chip on the shoulder.

That culture of prove-it-or-pay isn’t inherently bad; competitiveness drives the league. But when it turns into unspoken collective targeting, it threatens not just one player’s development, but the integrity of the game. Clark shouldn’t be handed anything—but she shouldn’t be hunted either.

For fans, this slump has created a split narrative. On one side are the skeptics, eager to label her a bust, proof that college dominance doesn’t translate. On the other are loyalists who insist this is merely a phase, a natural part of rookie adjustment in the world’s toughest women’s basketball league.

Yet the truth likely lies somewhere in the middle. Clark is adjusting to faster, stronger defenders. She’s learning new schemes, facing new pressures, and doing it all under an unprecedented microscope. What she needs isn’t ridicule or blind support—it’s fair treatment.

And that’s where the WNBA has to step in.

The league has been experiencing unprecedented growth—thanks in large part to Clark’s entry. Television ratings are up. Social media engagement is booming. Merch sales are through the roof. That isn’t a coincidence. It’s a direct result of a league finally breaking into the mainstream, with Clark as its most recognizable face. But that spotlight can’t come at the cost of her well-being.

It’s not about creating a bubble around Clark. It’s about applying rules fairly and consistently. If defenders are crossing the line, they need to be called for it. If players are overly physical off-ball, it needs to be addressed. Ignoring it sends the wrong message—to fans, to future players, and to Clark herself.

Plum’s statements were not only bold, but necessary. Few veterans are willing to speak on behalf of a rookie, especially one dominating the headlines. But by doing so, Plum reminded everyone that the league’s growth is a shared responsibility. It’s not about handing Clark success—it’s about ensuring she has the opportunity to earn it without unnecessary obstruction.

Meanwhile, Clark continues to grind. Practices are longer. Film sessions are more detailed. Her mental approach, by all accounts, is rock solid. She’s not panicking. She knows what’s at stake—and she knows what she’s capable of.

“I’ve been through slumps before,” she said recently. “It’s just about staying locked in, doing the work, and believing in yourself.”

That belief remains the key. Because even if the shots aren’t falling now, anyone who’s watched her over the last few years knows they eventually will. Shooters shoot. And Caitlin Clark, for all her current struggles, is still one of the best natural scorers basketball has seen in years.

The WNBA has a budding superstar on its hands—one who is still learning, adjusting, and absorbing every lesson. The league owes her the same support it gives its most elite veterans, because fair play isn’t favoritism—it’s the foundation of greatness.

Caitlin Clark’s slump may be real, but so is her talent. And if the league can protect that talent—not with privilege, but with fairness—the payoff will be historic.