Caitlin Clark Scores Riotous 32, Leads WNBA, But Her $76K Paycheck Doesn’t Even Cover One of Wembanyama’s Timepieces
You can feel the electricity whenever Caitlin Clark steps onto the court. Picture a sold-out arena—hundreds of fans waving signs, phones flashing, chanting her name. She nails a three from way beyond the arc, and the whole place erupts. In June, she dropped 32 points and nearly had a triple-double—31 points, 9 assists, 8 rebounds—in just 32 minutes.
It’s the kind of game that makes you think: here is the face of women’s basketball. Her shots are raining, her smile is radiant, and the Fever are back in the spotlight. But then comes the punch: she’s making a rookie salary of just $76,500 in 2024.
By comparison, the NBA’s first overall pick last year, Victor Wembanyama, signed a deal worth $12.1 million in his first season. Wembanyama hasn’t even started his career and already out-earns Caitlin by a factor of 158. To put it bluntly: Caitlin’s entire rookie paycheck wouldn’t cover one of Wemby’s Rolexes—let alone his sneakers, travel, or endorsements.
Scoring Glory Meets Off-Court Shock
Now imagine this: Caitlin is lighting up the scoreboard, stepping into her role as the WNBA’s next superstar. She’s drawing attention the way Steph Curry did for the NBA—or even Michael Jordan. In fact, across social media, fans are calling it her “Caitlin Clark effect”: attendance is up, TV viewership is up, and merchandise sales are booming. A recent game at Salesforce Arena in San Francisco was packed mostly because of her name.
Yet even as fans cheer her game-winning shots and triple-doubles, every buzzer-beater carries a bittersweet edge—and that’s her paycheck. She makes $76,500 for a full season. That’s it. Meanwhile, Wembanyama is living off millions, even though he’s barely played a pro game.
“That’s honestly just embarrassing,” said one college student watching Clark’s rise. Another chimed in: “These women are at the top of their game… she deserves more than $76K.” It’s what fans see: a star in full bloom, and a salary that looks like it’s from another era.
Why the Gap Exists—and Why It Hurts
Here’s the brutal truth: it’s not about Caitlin. It’s about a system where NBA revenue hits $10 billion a year, and the WNBA barely makes $200 million. The NBA shares about 50% of its revenue with players. The WNBA only gave players 21–23% under its last deal—though the 2020 CBA did raise that number to around 50% too.
But even when you split the pie, the pie itself is just smaller. The WNBA plays about 40 games—or four months—versus the NBA’s 82-game, six-month season. It has fewer teams, less TV money, and smaller global markets. Fans know and love Caitlin; she was making $3.4 million in college NIL deals. She’s Instagram-famous, TikTok-hot, and her sweat sells jerseys. And yet, as her agent said, “it’s not possible for the WNBA to pay her what she’s really worth”—at least right now.
Fans aren’t blind to it. “These ladies deserve…” one user posted on NBC Washington, “Caitlin Clark is earning like a college kid—but she brings in the crowds.” The reaction is rage-filled empathy: we see what she does on the court, and we hate what she makes off it.
A Turning Point for Women’s Basketball?
This moment might be the crack in the ceiling the WNBA needs. Clark is pushing the league forward faster than anyone else. Attendance jumped by 156% this season, and the league even turned in a small profit week during her Summer League debut. The Caitlin Clark effect is real—and it may be tipping the scales.
The current CBA runs through 2027, but there’s an opt-out clause that could allow players to demand better deals if the money keeps rolling in. New broadcast rights coming in 2026 could be worth double. And players are talking—some are even discussing a possible strike if pay doesn’t improve.
This is where Caitlin’s story becomes part of something bigger. She’s not just making baskets—she’s building leverage. If her rookie season demands like this, imagine what a 5-year veteran, All-Star Caitlin could command. Imagine the ripple effect for everybody in the league.
A Game Beyond Basketball
Picture this final scene: you find yourself in a WNBA arena. The lights go down, announcer voice echoes, “Hometown hero. Second generation talent. The face of women’s basketball…” The crowd goes wild when Caitlin runs out. She looks around, smiles, waves—she knows what this means.
But behind the celebration is a headline flashing on the big screen: “Rookie Salary: $76,500.” Then it cuts to a side-by-side of Wembanyama’s Rolex and sneaker haul. That contrast doesn’t just sting—it screams: we love your game, but the game doesn’t pay. Yet.
Maybe that’s where change starts—for Caitlin, for her teammates, for every young girl watching tonight. Because it’s easy to sell out her jersey. It’s not so easy to sell out her worth. And once we do that, the next buzzer-beater isn’t just about a win—it’s about smashing a ceiling.
Because right now, it’s only a matter of time before the Caitlin Clark effect brings more money, more hope, and more justice to women’s basketball. And maybe, just maybe, her rookie doc won’t need to go back to chasing endorsements to make her feel like a pro. Maybe I’ll be writing about her $1 million salary, or paying her rookies like men. That’s the game we all want.