Yes, a cashier at Walmart, a delivery driver at Amazon, or a waiter at KFC, should be able to afford rent, groceries, and bills with their paycheck alone. That is exactly what jobs are for.
They are lowering US flags to half-mast for a week, but if the government really wants to pay tribute to Dolly, they should fund education, the arts, and medical research instead of trying to eradicate them.
Caitlin Clark is disrespected.
Caitlin Clark is underrated.
Caitlin Clark is hated.
& all she does is dominate.
Every damn night.
Time to show CC some respect!
The people who promised to 'Make America Healthy Again' have given America:
The worst measles outbreak since 1991
The worst screwworm outbreak in 60 years
The worst cyclosporiasis outbreak in years
I’m going to say this as calmly as possible:
Watching Caitlin Clark in the WNBA has become genuinely hard to stomach.
Not because she struggles sometimes. Not because she makes mistakes. Not because she gets criticized. That comes with being great.
It’s hard to stomach because it has become obvious that the league, the officials, the media, the players, and even her own organization have all decided that the most important thing is not letting Caitlin Clark become too big.
And that is insane.
This league was handed the most marketable, electric, revenue-generating player women’s basketball has ever seen, and instead of building around the moment, too many people seem obsessed with humbling her.
She gets fouled. Held. Hit. Cheap-shotted. Mocked. Targeted. Then when she reacts like a normal competitor, suddenly everyone wants to analyze her attitude.
No.
Her attitude is not the story.
The story is that a generational player is being treated like a problem by the very league she helped drag into mainstream relevance.
This reminds me of the worst kind of youth coach... the one who sees a special player, feels threatened by her talent, and slowly drains the joy out of her in the name of “teaching humility.”
That is what this looks like.
The freedom she played with at Iowa is disappearing. The fire is still there, but the joy looks damaged. The confidence looks weighed down. She looks like someone constantly fighting the refs, opponents, narratives, coaching decisions, jealousy, and a league culture that should be protecting its golden opportunity instead of resenting it.
And let’s be honest: Stephanie White has not helped.
Benching Caitlin Clark randomly when she is controlling the game tempo, or having your best shooter off the floor in critical game ending minutes when a victory is within reach is basketball malpractice. Limiting her rhythm, downplaying her greatness, benching momentum, and treating her like just another piece instead of the engine is absurd.
You do not take a player who changed the economics of your sport and manage her like you’re afraid her greatness might offend the room.
Nike deserves criticism too. Other players get signature shoes rolled out with urgency, while the biggest draw in women’s basketball is somehow still waiting on that signature shoe. That is not confusing. That is revealing.
Fans are not stupid.
They see the fouls.
They see the double standards.
They see the jealousy.
They see the media resentment.
They see the league benefiting from her popularity while refusing to fully embrace her.
And here is the part the WNBA better understand quickly:
People are not tuning in to watch Caitlin Clark be humbled.
They are tuning in to watch Caitlin Clark be great.
If she walked away tomorrow, the fans would follow her. The sponsors would follow her. The energy would follow her. The high salaries and the charter jets would follow her. And the league would be forced to confront the uncomfortable truth it keeps trying to avoid:
Caitlin Clark did not need the WNBA nearly as much as the WNBA needed Caitlin Clark.
At some point, her family, her agent, and her team need to ask a hard question:
How much longer do you let a league profit from her while allowing the culture around her to beat the spirit out of her?
Because from the outside looking in, this does not look like normal adversity anymore. It looks like abuse.
It looks like a league trying to break the very player who made millions of people care.
https://t.co/AAxFrO46Z4
The Indiana Fever are 2 games into the WNBA season and the haters are already trying to say Caitlin Clark was all hype.
Game 1- 20 pts, 7 assists, 5 Rebs
Game 2- 24 pts, 9 assists, 4 Rebs
She isn’t shooting the 3 ball well and she is still BALLIN.
STOP THE HATE.
Don’t go chasing waterfalls...cautiously approach and be careful of slippery conditions. In fact, you may just want to stick to the rivers and lakes that you’re used to.
The green sea turtle is no longer endangered. 🎉
After 40+ years on the IUCN Red List as Endangered, it's been moved all the way to Least Concern, skipping two categories entirely.
One of the biggest conservation comebacks ever recorded.
Yesterday was the worst day of my life:
I took one son to school and went to my parents empty house to workout and get some work done.
At 11:30 I left to go get both my sons out of school.
I arrive at 12 to pick up one, drive 10 minutes away to pick up the other.
I get into the car with my two boys, drive off from the school, take a left turn onto Timpanogos Hwy and that’s when I lose it.
My eyes closed as though I fell asleep, which I practically did.
While still driving, I wake up, breathe deep, and realize I’m having a diabetic seizure.
I scream and I try to take control, but my seizure is preventing me from doing anything.
I somehow check who’s behind me or in my blind spot so I can get into the service lane near an intersection. I finally get to the service lane and stop, but my seizure lets off the brake and I’m still going.
I pass the intersection—I have no idea how—and I keep going, braking and going, braking and going.
I black out.
I wake up and now I’m in the middle lane, getting too close to oncoming traffic.
I black out.
I wake up and I’m now going into oncoming traffic. There’s literally a white suv about 20 feet in front of me. The driver moves out of the way. My boys are freaking out, crying, “YOU’RE GONNA CRASH!”
I can’t do anything. I black out. I hear my mother-in law on the phone talking to me and my kids, I later learned my son answered the phone when the group was calling on WhatsApp.
The worst of the seizure then takes hold and I slam the brakes, let go, slam the brakes. My car is now making noises, even it knows something is horribly wrong.
I check my rear view and see a fire truck with its lights on. I check my right and there’s a blue Honda perpendicular to me, waving me to move forward. I was in a busy intersection. I’m still in the oncoming traffic side, but nobody is moving. Just watching.
Finally, I slowly, but harshly slam into the light pole.
I try to put the car in park but I go into reverse and hit the fire truck.
I get it into park. Finally, the driving is over, but I’m still seizing.
A lady comes to the passenger side, opens the door and asks if I’m ok. I tell her, “No.” She asks me what I need. That’s when my door opens with a fireman leaned down to me and I tell them, “Sugar. I’m diabetic.” I’m still can’t control my body, but somehow I manage to get that information out.
The seizure ends. I try to get out so I can get on all 4s on the ground, but the fireman tells me to stay still.
I tell him, “My children. Check on my children. Are they ok?!”
The fireman says he sees my boys and they seem to be fine.
That’s when I break and I wail like a baby.
At the moment, I couldn’t recall everything that happened or how it happened, but I knew I had a seizure and put my two boys in great risk and possibly many others.
They put me into the ambulance. The wailing doesn’t stop. I keep thinking about my boys and how scared they were and how it was all my fault. I should have checked my blood sugar before driving, even when I felt fine. I had no suspicion that I was low. None.
The EMTs let me know that my wife called my phone, she knows and she’s on her way.
I ask if I hurt anyone. Not a soul was hurt. I drove down Timpanogos Hwy having a seizure and no one was hurt. My kids are fine. Not a scratch on anyone, not even me. I wail like a baby again.
The crying continued all throughout the day yesterday till my eyes were swollen. I can’t stop thinking the horrible things that could have happened to me, my boys, or people on the road.
My life felt ruined for a moment in that ambulance. I put my children at risk, driving with low blood sugar. Stupid.
Fortunately, everyone is ok. Everyone knows it was an accident and if anything it’s been a faith builder—in the worst possible situation, the best possible result occurred.
I am embarrassed and ashamed, but I am also extremely grateful.
I am sorry to anyone that was there.
Work. Work. Work. Stay hydrated. Go to the dentist. 10,000 steps. “What’s for dinner?” Insurance. Drink water. Pay a bill. Pay a bill. Smile. Credit Score. Check engine light. Go get gas. ALLERGIES! TAXES! STUDENT LOANS! Phone storage full. Email. Email. Apple $12.99. Apple $9.99. Subscriptions. Subscription. Overdraft. Laundry. Fold. Text. Text. Text. Clean the house. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Doctors appoinment. Hair appoinment. Nail appointment. RENT. WAR! GOVERNMENT! POLITICS! THE PRESIDENT!!