Lincicome: Finding meaning in Caitlin Clark’s popularity, whether she’s playing or not

Without playing much basketball of late, Caitlin Clark has managed to remain just as noticed, hardly a sustainable strategy, but to recall one writer’s review on the death of a rival, “Nice career move.”

CC, as she has become known — two initials easier to say than three syllables — has missed no shots in her absence, taken no hard fouls, nor given any, made no turnovers, has not been blamed for dominating the ball, has not had to explain why she is suddenly ordinary, all of which was trending before ouchy quads and injured groins benched her.

In fact, her team, the Fever, has done just as well without her, but keep that quiet. Shhh.

It was going to be difficult to remain Caitlin Clark forever, of course, to remain the wonder woman who made an ignored sport into something special, and the carnival that jangled around her would eventually subside.

The prejudgments (“Reality is coming,” warned a respected voice) had been proved wrong, and the short-sighted jealousy of peers and foes had eased, a few bruises later, allowing a needed savior to save.

And women’s basketball did need saving. It was worse off than soccer, a sport that periodically advances a savior, usually a used foreigner or an available teenager. Clark has been the real deal.

She has managed to be more than could have been imagined — personable, available, magnetic — catching the WNBA by surprise and irritating players without her appeal. So when the lights dimmed on the court, there she still was, on camera, in the headlines, her resume tidy and recent, getting better with each missed game.

We can see her holding up the Commissioners Cup, whatever that is, compiling All-Star votes, endorsing Gatorade, selling shoes and insurance, being quite the impressive conglomerate, while attendance dips in games she was supposed to play in and tickets become unscalpable.

Injuries happen in sports, removing the best and brightest for long periods and sometimes for entire seasons. World wars can do that, too. Think how much greater Ted Williams might have been, or Bob Feller. Think about what the Bears would have been with a full functioning Jim McMahon.

Michael Jordan once had his minutes rationed because of injury, not to mention his self-imposed exile to baseball. What might Tiger Woods have accumulated had he had all his parts in working order all the time?

Biggest non-playing Clark story lately? Her peers voted her only the ninth best guard in the All-Star polling. Ninth? Envy deserves more than ninth. Why not 12th or 20th? If you are going to diss someone, do it right.

Second-best non-playing story? Her All-Star coach will be Cheryl Reeve, the shade throwing coach in Minnesota and last year’s USA Olympics coach who — to hear the Clark converts insist — kept Clark off the team in Paris.

Why, they wonder, should our hero have to play for a coach who does not like her as much as we do? That such silliness swirls around Clark supports her status as icon and house pet.

I am not suggesting that Clark not play again, just to not hurry back, while the sport she essentially fashioned into a distinctive fascination realizes how these things work.

Sports need stars. Fans need to know where to look. Hockey has never been again what it was with Wayne Gretzky. Baseball has Shohei Ohtani but it became what it became because of Babe Ruth. Football has Patrick Mahomes but it misses Tom Brady. Golf will always prefer Arnold Palmer.

In women’s basketball, Clark is all of these, at least in reputation, in the public heart, and only failure, or scandal, will change that.

Clark is still such a novelty that only on-court disappointment can blunt her appeal. Clark most closely parallels Chris Evert, young and fresh and acceptable, turning women’s tennis into a watchable and lucrative sport.

Clark is not a polarizing figure in the way of an Ali or a McEnroe, equally adored or condemned, yet emotions do get high on both sides.

The only way to end the excessive worship and the undue reproach is for Clark to become just another player. Not impossible, but unlikely.