It’s a controversy from maybe the most replayed foul in the history of women’s basketball. Sophie Cunningham of the Indiana Fever ran for the easy layup, and Di Jonai Carrington threw a clothesline to her cheek. Indiana’s head coach Stephanie White was asked for comment, and instead of supporting Cunningham, she defended Carrington, complimenting the aggression in her general game. Critics couldn’t believe what we heard; the coach appeared to side with an opposing player that left hers with a bloody mouth. But while I understood the objections, I’m not convinced that White is a villain. Pundits concluded that she was indifferent to the well-being of her team, but speculation of motives is difficult, and her comments do not necessarily lead to betrayal. While there are reasons to pause from White’s response to the foul, she may still earn the respect of the Indiana Fever.
Coach White seemed to not feel any outrage for the foul, and her response was unique. As a life-long sports fan, I have watched many coaches and players launch verbal assaults for egregious fouls by opponents. When they voice their anger at reporters, the support for their team is always evident. Never had I heard a coach spend the bulk of their time sharing positive comments about an attacker. Critics and fans will be perplexed how a leader can take such a position, and this wasn’t even the first time White had done it this season. Earlier this year, she had a similarly soft stance when a player shoved their fist onto the throat of star player Caitlin Clark. One time defending the opponent is strange; two is a pattern of indifference—a disconcerting attitude from any head coach.
Media condemned White for her support of Carrington, and the objections seemed reasonable. Sports 101 would teach us that a coach is the team’s greatest advocate—the biggest cheerleader, and its staunchest defender. If a coach appears sympathetic and coddling to an opponent that committed an out-of-line foul, they’re failing the morale of their own team. From here, ripple effects spread through the franchise. Players can become resentful, losing trust in their coach, whether or not they share their feelings publicly. Division and discontent fill the locker room, and it risks failure to win—the greatest measure of success in sports. Losing for lack of talent is understandable; losing from unforced errors is despicable. The media demanded nothing more from White than it would expect from any coach, and critics were vocal in calling for White to be fired.
Other details raise more concerns about Coach White. She claimed to have not seen the replay of the foul, nor to have had a good view of the clothesline. But critics caught imagery showing White watching the foul from behind. And also, it seems odd that a coach wouldn’t catch the replay of such a hard foul. Between the Jumbotron and any number of screens before the press conference, she would have had ample opportunities. And before the next game, White spoke to the media with belligerence, responding to those calling for her firing. With a pounding fist, she objected to anyone questioning her commitment to the Fever. There are famous moments of coaches losing their composure with the press, and this qualified. Critics now held even more ammo to condemn White, calling her unprofessional with further calls for her removal. For the good of the team, they said she had to go.
But despite the narrative of White as a betrayer, there is still room to believe she has the best interest of her players. It’s easy to claim someone is sinister when other factors might explain their words. Consider that White was Carrington’s former coach of two years on the Connecticut Sun. In the second year, Carrington won the award for Most Improved Player, and she became part of the All-Defensive First Team. That’s quite a leap in one season, and it might explain the empathy White felt for her former player. Maybe she has fond memories of Carrington proving her skills and tenacity. Maybe White felt pride for having a part to play in Carrington’s development, prompting her defense. Her history with Carrington can explain the comments—a simpler explanation, and an understandable reaction from a coach about her former player.
The history of the WNBA is also worth considering as influential on White. Women’s basketball has never had the stability other sports will naturally take for granted. If a league has the cash and enthusiasm of a large enough fan base, coaches and players can afford to treat other teams with full-throated tribalism. The WNBA, on the other hand, has faced mockery and ridicule for decades. Critics note their annual revenue losses with the need for the NBA to continually bankroll the league. No NFL coach has ever had to defend the league’s right to exist, so maybe WNBA coaches don’t see team rivalries in the same way. While White wants to win, she might see the entire league as one team. One organization. One beleaguered business that defends itself with pride in its product. So maybe there is a different perspective within the WNBA—one that wouldn’t occur to men to hold in more successful leagues.
We could think of other reasons for White reacting as she did, and while it’s all speculation, is it more-so than the judgments of critics that have called for her firing? Motives are hard to prove, and it shouldn’t be so easy to claim to know someone’s. Belief that White is a disloyal, uncommitted leader is guesswork of the coach’s heart. It’s conspiratorial to think such ill of a coach who has committed their career to leadership of athletes. If I’m wrong about White, then I’m wrong. Maybe she’s awful, and her locker room is a mess. But I won’t assume deception, nor presume to know what drives her. It’s a bridge too far for me to connect White’s comments about Carrington to betrayal of the Fever. And it’s important for me to remember that media will always be in search of villains. Their opinions are sincere, but popularity demands antagonists.
Cunningham and Clark, for their part, later countered this media narrative by defending Coach White. They hardly sounded like players who felt betrayed by their leader. They were happy to support their coach, though some dismissed their comments. It’s not what they really think, some said. They’re so young and impressionable; they’re just taking marching orders to act like everything is fine. While I find the cynicism relatable, it feels disrespectful to assume their words aren’t their own. It’s dismissive of the players, viewing them as children receiving directions from parents.* Without evidence that they’re lying, it’s just more speculation. Maybe the simpler explanation is in fact the truth: That there is no strife, and the Fever have no resentment of their coach. Maybe White advocate for her players both past and present.
What we conclude of White comes down to whether we believe two things can be true at once: That a coach can show admiration for an aggressive opponent, and the coach can hold unwavering support for their own team. In the end, I’m not sure what to believe. White’s defense of Carrington was unconventional, and it’s possible White was lying about seeing the foul. But there’s also reasonable speculation that can speak of her positively, countering claims of indifference and malice. Cunningham and Clark say she is supportive, and the context of the WNBA leaves enough room to suggest that the players and coaches of different teams will come to support each other. So when the Fever released a statement expressing support for Coach White, maybe it’s actually true. Maybe all is well in the locker room—that Coach White stands with her team, and the Indiana Fever are doing just fine.
*I wonder if we would have the same skepticism of comments from male athletes. Would we dismiss them so easily? Would we question their truthfulness? Would we believe they’re taking orders from the powers that be? It is hard for me to picture two men in the place of Cunningham and Clark, and our reactions being the same.
