Live updates women’s selection on Sunday

BLOOMINGTON, Ind. – Eighty-four-year-old Roberta Burkholder, her white parka zipped up to her neck, stands next to her 81-year-old husband, Orval. She arrived here, at the back doors of Indiana University’s Simon Skjodt Assembly Hall, around seven in the morning. It is now half past five in the evening. To their left are Trenton Kemp and his 13-year-old son Maguire. They flew into the city from Boise, Idaho, two days earlier and planted at this specific spot around 6:30 am. Another gentleman, Josh Kennedy, flew from Norman, Oklahoma, before parking here before dawn.

Chris Coats, a friendly white-haired gentleman dressed from head to toe in Hoosier attire, arrived relatively late, around 8 a.m., but has since become the de facto mayor of this pop-up community. He knows everyone’s backstories, if not all names. The lady behind him, Coats explains, was smart enough to pack chicken salad sandwiches, and that guy over there, the one in the overalls? He bought four pizzas and some Wendy’s and shared them generously with everyone.

This cross-section of Americana – young, old, male, female – forms the head of a line that meanders in all directions; so many people in line A 10-year veteran of IU’s security team prays they all have tickets to get into the building. They’re gathered here, at the back door of a basketball temple in basketball fervor, to catch a glimpse of a basketball shooting star.

Caitlin Clark is no longer just a basketball player. She is an experience, an insanely talented athlete swaddled in NIL, social media and female empowerment, who encapsulates the zeitgeist of college athletics. Clark films, literally and figuratively, the month of March, followed by young girls who respond to her photos like Swifties to a favorite song, by girl dads giddy to find common ground with their daughters, by loyal fans of women’s hoops who are excited to finally get their long-awaited attention, from casual hoops fans who just want to see a good player perform, and from curiosity seekers who want to catch a glimpse of a phenomenon.

In the coming weeks, Clark will captivate this rabid crowd who, like those who gathered in Indiana last month, will buy tickets or turn on their televisions in search of more than just a basketball game. They’re waiting for a show.

“We came for Caitlin Clark,” says octogenarian Roberta, as she and Orval are swallowed up by the crowd as the Assembly Hall doors finally open. “I will do everything once.”

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