The air in Gainbridge Fieldhouse on May 17 crackled with the kind of electric anticipation you only get from a home opener, especially one pitting the Indiana Fever against the Chicago Sky.
As a WNBA fan and sports reporter, I was whizzing, ready for the on-court drama, the skillful plays, the sheer joy of women’s professional basketball taking center stage here in Indianapolis.
But that excitement? It curdled pretty fast, replaced by a sickening knot of dread in my stomach.
Because what I and everyone else in that arena witnessed wasn’t just a basketball game. It was a raw, hideous display of racism that has no place anywhere, let alone in a space meant for sport and community.
During the third quarter, after a hard foul by Caitlin Clark on Angel Reese — a foul later upgraded to a flagrant I — Reese stepped to the free-throw line.
And that’s when it happened.
From sections of the Indiana crowd, clear as day, came monkey noises.
Monkey noises. Directed at a Black woman, a phenomenal athlete, in 2025.
Let that sink in.
My heart plunged. I felt this wave of profound sorrow, embarrassment and, frankly, anger consume me. I cried, right there in my media seat, watching a game I love be so despicably tainted.
And it didn’t stop there.
When the replay of Clark’s foul flashed on the jumbotron, showing Reese being propelled to the floor, parts of the crowd erupted in cheers.
Cheering the aggressive takedown of a Black player.
It was chilling. This isn’t some isolated incident, a case of a few “bad apples” spoiling the bunch. What I saw on Saturday speaks to a much larger, more insidious problem that professional sports, particularly the WNBA, has been wrestling with for far too long.
This isn’t new. The WNBA, for all its groundbreaking work in championing women athletes and social justice, has navigated a complex racial landscape since its inception. We’ve seen instances throughout its history where racial bias, whether overt or subtle, has reared its head.
Think back to 2002, when WNBA legend Sheryl Swoopes, one of the league’s original stars, was fined for comments criticizing officiating. At the time, many observers and fellow players felt the fine was disproportionate, perhaps even racially motivated — a way to silence a Black woman daring to speak out.
Fast forward to 2020, with the Atlanta Dream. Players on that team courageously spoke out against political rhetoric from their then-owner, Sen. Kelly Loeffler, rhetoric many deemed racially insensitive and harmful to the Black Lives Matter movement the players were so passionately supporting. Those players, predominantly Black women, put their careers on the line to stand for justice, facing immense pressure.
These aren’t just footnotes in history; they’re part of a pattern where Black women in the league have often faced a double burden — fighting for respect as athletes and as Black women in a society still riddled with systemic racism.
And yet, here we are.
Ironically, this latest display of racism in Indianapolis unfolded just as the WNBA is actively promoting its “No Space for Hate” campaign.
Before the game even started, WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert was on the jumbotron, talking about this initiative, holding fans accountable and fostering an inclusive environment.
The bitter irony isn’t lost on me, and it shouldn’t be lost on anyone.
It’s a stark reminder that slogans and campaigns, while well-intentioned, are only as good as the actions that back them up, and the willingness of everyone — from the league to the teams to every single fan — to truly live those values.
The league is undeniably experiencing a surge in popularity, partly thanks to incredible new talents like Clark and Reese who are bringing more eyes to the game. That’s something to celebrate. But it seems this increased visibility has also, unfortunately, emboldened some of the ugliest elements of fan behavior, or perhaps, made us all more acutely aware of what’s been simmering beneath the surface for years.
When the cheers for a hard foul seem to carry an extra edge, when jeers cross the line into dehumanizing taunts, it takes away from the game itself. It takes away from the incredible athleticism, the dedication and the passion these players bring to the hardwood every single night.
The high-energy, high-octane season opener between the Fever and the Sky? It was undeniably marred, its joy stolen by the racist actions of those fans.
After the game, still reeling from what I’d witnessed, I tried to get into the Sky’s post-game and locker room, hoping to somehow convey to Angel Reese that not everyone in that arena was okay with what happened, that some of us saw it and were horrified.
She was unavailable, which is understandable. But the urge to do something was overwhelming.
There is a sliver of hope. Mel Raines, from Pacers Sports & Entertainment, which owns the Fever, did issue a statement hours after the game, saying they were aware of the allegations of inappropriate fan conduct and are working closely with the WNBA to complete their investigation. They affirmed their commitment to providing a safe environment for all WNBA players.
This is a necessary first step. Accountability is crucial. But it can’t end with statements.
What happened this past weekend isn’t just about Angel Reese, Caitlin Clark, the Indiana Fever or the Chicago Sky. It’s about the soul of the WNBA and, by extension, the soul of our sports culture.
Are we going to allow hate to fester in the stands? Are we going to let racism tarnish the achievements of these incredible athletes? Or are we going to stand up, speak out and demand better?
This isn’t just the league’s responsibility to repair. It’s on every single one of us. Fans should call out this behavior when they see it. Teams should have zero tolerance for it. Media members like myself should expose these incidents with the seriousness they deserve.
Creating a space truly free of hate requires constant vigilance and unwavering commitment. The players deserve that. Angel Reese deserves that. The game deserves that. And frankly, we as fans deserve a sports culture we can be proud of, not one that leaves us feeling heartbroken and angry about the game we love.
Contact Multi-Media & Senior Sports Reporter Noral Parham at 317-762-7846. Follow him on TikTok @HorsemenSportsMedia. For more sports, click here.
Noral Parham is the multi-media & senior sports reporter for the Indianapolis Recorder, one of the oldest Black publications in the country. Parham has worked with various leagues to provide a diverse perspective in sports, including the Big Ten, Big East, IHSAA, IndyCar, MLB, NHRA, NFL, NBA, WNBA, WWE and the Olympics. Prior to joining the Recorder, Parham served as the community advocate of the MLK Center in Indianapolis and senior copywriter for an e-commerce and marketing firm in Denver.
