In the world of professional sports, a jersey number is rarely just a number. It is an identity, a brand, and for the greatest athletes, a legacy. Michael Jordan had 23. Wayne Gretzky had 99. And in the last two years, the number 22 has become completely synonymous with one person: Caitlin Clark.

It is the number plastered on the backs of thousands of young girls in arenas across the country. It is the number that shattered merchandise records and became the highest-selling jersey in the history of women’s college basketball. Yet, as the Team USA training camp kicks off in Durham, North Carolina, fans will be greeted by a jarring sight. The number 22 is gone. In its place, Caitlin Clark will be wearing number 17.

This decision, seemingly minor on the surface, reveals a “seismic” shift and a brutal reality about the current state of women’s basketball. It is not just a uniform change; it is a masterclass in political maneuvering, designed to navigate a locker room filled with tension, hierarchy, and unspoken rules.

The War for Number 22

To understand why this change is so controversial, you have to look at the roster. Caitlin Clark isn’t the only superstar who lays claim to number 22. A’ja Wilson, the two-time WNBA MVP and undeniable powerhouse of the Las Vegas Aces, has also built her professional identity around that number. She is a veteran, a champion, and currently arguably the best player in the world.

This presented USA Basketball with a nightmare scenario. They were caught in a “political minefield” with no easy exit.

If they gave the number 22 to A’ja Wilson, it would be a clear statement of hierarchy. It would signal to the world that while Clark is the popular newcomer, Wilson is the queen, and the rookie must wait her turn. While logically sound based on seniority, it would have felt like a slight to the player who is single-handedly driving the sport’s popularity explosion.

On the other hand, if they gave the number 22 to Caitlin Clark, the backlash would have been catastrophic. It would have been viewed as “anointing” her as the face of Team USA before she had even officially made the roster. Such a move would have undoubtedly infuriated the veteran players, many of whom already feel that Clark receives preferential treatment and undue media attention. It would have disrupted the chemistry of the team before a single practice drill was run.

The “Switzerland” Solution

So, what did USA Basketball do? They chose option three: The Nuclear Option. They gave the number to no one.

In a move that has been described as a “political masterclass,” the organization decided to leave the number 22 completely vacant. Neither A’ja Wilson nor Caitlin Clark will wear it. By retiring the number for this camp, they attempted to remain neutral—the ultimate “Switzerland approach” to a problem fueled by ego and status.

This decision highlights just how carefully—and nervously—the league is handling the “Caitlin Clark phenomenon.” They are walking a tightrope. They cannot afford to offend the veterans who have been the backbone of the program for over a decade, yet they cannot deny that millions of casual fans are tuning in specifically to see the girl who made #22 famous.

The Marketing Reality

Ironically, this attempt to minimize drama may have just created a new goldmine. The new Team USA number 17 jersey with “Clark” on the back is projected to sell out in a matter of hours. The demand for Caitlin Clark merchandise is so insatiable that the number on the fabric is almost irrelevant.

Fans aren’t buying a number; they are buying a piece of history. Whether it is 22 or 17, they are investing in the athlete who has changed the trajectory of the sport. In fact, number 17 is likely about to become the second most iconic number in women’s basketball simply because she is wearing it.

A Tale of Two Leagues

This jersey controversy also serves as a microcosm for a larger issue: the difference in how the WNBA and the NBA have embraced Caitlin Clark. While USA Basketball and WNBA veterans seem to be handling her rise with awkward compromises and “passive-aggressive” silence, the NBA’s biggest stars have rolled out the red carpet.

The contrast is stark. LeBron James, arguably the greatest player of his generation, has been one of Clark’s most vocal supporters. Recently, LeBron posted a “Year 23” tribute on Instagram, to which Clark simply replied, “King.” This interaction carries immense weight. It represents a passing of the torch and a level of mutual respect that seems to be missing from Clark’s own peers.

LeBron, along with other NBA superstars like Steph Curry, Damian Lillard, and Kevin Durant, has consistently defended Clark against critics. They have praised her game, defended her against physical targeting on the court, and validated her impact. They understand the “business” of basketball—that a rising tide lifts all boats. They know that Clark’s success is good for Nike, good for the sport, and good for the legacy of basketball as a whole.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Meanwhile, the silence from many WNBA veterans remains deafening. Instead of celebrating the rookie who is bringing unprecedented revenue and attention to their league, the response has often been cold. We have seen the hard fouls, the dismissive comments about her “reality” versus the media hype, and now, the stripping of her jersey number to avoid bruising egos.

The decision to put Caitlin Clark in number 17 is a temporary fix for a permanent shift. You can change her number, but you cannot change the reality: she is the engine driving the sport forward.

As the Team USA camp begins, all eyes will be on number 17. The number 22 may be hanging in the rafters of the equipment room, unused and collecting dust, but its absence speaks louder than any jersey ever could. It is a symbol of a sport in transition, struggling to reconcile its past hierarchy with its explosive future. And whether she is wearing 22, 17, or 99, Caitlin Clark is the one holding the ball.