There seems to be this belief that we are in a moment.
One that hasn’t ever been experienced before. Not like this. Women’s college basketball has taken over — for the moment — the sports world. It’s it. Caitlin Clark (solo) is Taylor Swift, Angel Reese (solo) is Bey. Together — dating to last year’s NCAA final — they are this generation’s Bird vs. Magic. And, if old enough, you remember how their moment changed the game. Changed sports.
This weekend will be the beginning of the test to see the role sustainability has in this moment. The NCAA Women’s Final Four and championship games are now on the clock to carry on the Telfar bag the Elite Eight (the back half, specifically) brought on this G4 flight. The 12.3 million who decided to join the watch party for Monday’s ‘‘greatest night in basketball’’ powered the ‘‘Elite Four’’ between Iowa/LSU and USC/UConn to ‘‘where were you when this happened?’’ status.
The returns: More than the 2023 NBA Finals (all except one game), more than the World Series (any game), more than the Orange, Cotton and Peach bowls of 2023, more than the football installments of the Big Ten, Big 12, Pac-12 and ACC championship games, more than any regular-season college football game in 2023 with the exception (of course) of Thee v. M (also known as Ohio State vs. Michigan).
More than any women’s or men’s college basketball game ever watched on ESPN. More than any women’s college basketball game watched in the history of the sport.
Now we enter into the moment’s moment. When everything that’s been happening to, with and because of what we’re watching reaches its crescendo. The games. The storylines. The dynamics interwoven into who will play for the championship and then who will win it. The beloved vs. the villain dynamic, the good girls vs. the evil empire dynamic, the Cinderella vs. the undefeated dynamic, the racial dynamic (Black vs. white for the title).
It’s a marketing, advertising and PR dream for the NCAA — and the WNBA. It’s basketball’s dream scenario. It’s everything. And judging by the year-over-year, week-over-week, round-over-round surge in public interest, we’ll all be here for it. (Almost all. There’s other millions-over-millions who will be under lock, key, hypnotism and hype of WWE’s WrestleMania 40 this weekend.)
There aren’t too many recent moments in sports where everything unfurls to perfection to uplift an entire sport. Tiger’s entrance onto the PGA Tour comes to mind; having Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic battling for Grand Slam tennis titles for years is another that jumps out, along with Serena and Venus’ unapologetic impact and reign at the same time in the same sport; and, up until a few weeks ago — maybe there’s still time for the gambling incident with his interpreter not to be held against his legacy — Shohei Ohtani’s welcome to American baseball would be considered the latest to the list. But the time basketball is having now because of the women playing it can, at this very moment, be considered on par with all of the above.
Theirs, once this weekend is over, can be looked at as a symbol of permanence.
Whatever happens, whatever the outcome of this year’s NCAA Tournament, one thing is certain: The word ‘‘magnitude’’ will be tossed around and will be attached to the words ‘‘of the moment’’ often to emphasize what it is we are exactly in. It will then, after all of the confetti falls Sunday, be purposely aligned with the words ‘‘women’s game.’’ It will be our responsibility to reflect on that phrase and digest it ‘‘as is’’ or to look at it as a reflection of ourselves and how we’ve found a way to narrow an amazing sports conversation around gender. And how we all specifically attached ‘‘women’’ to any and most comments, commentary and feelings we had about what’s been happening with basketball recently and made it a gender-exclusive thing.
It will be our moment to check ourselves.
When LeBron James came into the NBA, we were told that we would all be witnesses. And we were. So with this latest historic, needle-moving ‘‘moment’’ in sports — damn the gender — in which we all currently exist and are a part of, if no longer witnesses, what are we?
Staley likes to preach to her players that they should ‘‘play free.’’ Time has arrived for us to ‘‘think free.’’ Just because Caitlin and Gabbie and MiLaysia and Te-Hina and Aziaha and Saniya and Paige and Aaliyah (and Angel and JuJu and Rickea and Flau’jae and Hanna and Madison and Dyaisha) all happen to be women we know on a first-name basis now, please don’t get it twisted that they don’t deserve more than the attention we’re giving them in this moment they created.
Let the ‘‘magnitude of the moment’’ — their moment — be about this generational elevation of the game, not just about the gender of the hoopers hooping.
