If my life depended on my athletic prowess, I would be a dead woman. But I have a relationship with basketball that seems almost divinely inspired.

I lived in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, for several years at the end of Dean Smith’s coaching career at UNC. Concurrently, I was teaching at a school in Durham that Mike Krzyzewski’s daughter attended. (Fun fact, she borrowed one of my necklaces for her senior portrait.) And both my children were born in Lawrence, Kansas — the epicenter of basketball — around the time Coach Roy Williams declared he would never leave KU (only to depart a few years later for Carolina).

No one can exist in these basketball towns without having an appreciation for the game, but I developed a bit of madness for it.

“March Madness” is aptly named. Sixty-eight NCAA Division I college teams in the first round, through the Sweet Sixteen, the Elite Eight, and the Final Four, all competing for the national championship. We fill in our brackets, some using secret formulas (yes, I have one), praying we’ll top our pools. And who doesn’t love a Cinderella? (Remember how Loyola-Chicago made it to the Elite Eight in 2018 and everyone fell in love with Sister Jean?) We cheer. We yell. We scream. We hate it! And we love it!

Sports enthusiasts will try and stop me here. Yes, it’s April. March Madness is over. And The Masters is going on. So why am I talking about March Madness and not Greg Norman? (He didn’t deserve an invite!) Since March Madness ended last week, I can’t stop thinking about women’s basketball. Particularly, Angel Reese, Caitlin Carter, and Sedona Prince.

If you didn’t watch the women’s final, you will still have heard of the controversy surrounding Louisiana State University’s Angel Reese, and Iowa’s Caitlin Clark. While LSU won the championship, Reese was harshly criticized for unsportsmanlike behavior, taunting Clark on the court. Clark had behaved similarly throughout the tournament. Yet Clark received praise. Even ESPN profiled her as the “Queen of Clapbacks,” highlighting how she told an opponent, “You’re down 15 points, shut up!”

One meme perfectly illustrates the contrast. Words to describe Reese were: “Thug, ghetto, fake champion.” For Clark: “Queen, competitive, champion in our hearts.” It’s all there in black and white. Reese spelled it out: She is black. Clark is white.

And Reese was right. First Lady Jill Biden only made things worse by suggesting Iowa should be invited to the White House. We could talk about participation trophies or political moves, but we know had Iowa won, LSU wouldn’t have been offered an invitation. At the end of the day, LSU has a program with primarily black athletes.

But I also noticed people saying it didn’t matter who did the taunting; it was wrong altogether. Except it’s always been an integral part of sports. Trash-talking can give athletes an edge, and Reese has the chops to back it up. If the NCAA has a problem with it, referees can start giving technicals as they do in the NBA. But Reese didn’t receive a technical. Or are we just uncomfortable with women being loud, brash, confident, and “in-your-face” about their abilities? If men had behaved this way, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Let’s not forget, Reese and Clark’s “You Can’t See Me” taunting-move was created by a man: John Cena.

Reese and Clark (who had no problem with Reese’s behavior) don’t deserve this sort of attention. And it prevents us from thinking about issues raised by Sedona Prince in 2021. Her viral video drew attention to the inequity between the men’s and women’s NCAA tournaments. And this disparity still exists. Until last year, women weren’t allowed to call their tournament “March Madness” though they had held it for over forty years. The television rights for the men’s tournament cost $8.8 billion over eight years, while the women’s a mere $34 million and are part of a bundle package through 2024. Men’s conferences earn millions from the tournament. Women earn nothing. The head of women’s NCAA basketball doesn’t report to the head of the NCAA, but rather to the head of men’s NCAA basketball.

And this year marked the first time that the women’s final was shown on broadcast tv since 1995. Why? Because some think no one wants to watch women’s sports.

Well, 12.6 million viewers tuned in and it was the most viewed streamed college event on ESPN+. By comparison, the NBA finals averaged only 9.89 million viewers in 2021. And the disparities go on…

So, if we’re going to talk about women’s basketball, stop tearing them down. Their behavior isn’t the problem; our discourse is. It takes away from the incredible positives: the excitement, the athleticism, the record final score, and the number of viewers who tuned in.

Let’s finally give women’s basketball the attention and money it deserves.

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