Reflection / John Shaughnessy
Erica Wheeler, Caitlin Clark and the wonderous gift of friendship
When the Indiana Fever begin their season on May 14, the spotlight will once again focus intensely on Caitlin Clark.
Yet no matter what highlights and hardships mark her first year in the WNBA, the best story of humanity involving the 22-year-old basketball sensation may have already occurred before she makes her first ridiculously-long three-point shot or a can-you-believe-that! assist as a pro.
It’s a story about the essence of friendship, the beginnings of that bond, and the unexpected blessing of a connection with another person that fills you with part wonder and complete joy.
Hopefully, it’s a story that reminds you of a friendship in your life.
The story involves Clark and her teammate, Erica Wheeler, a veteran who has embraced Clark even though they play the same position and Clark will likely dramatically cut into Wheeler’s playing time.
In a pre-season interview with the media, Wheeler talked about her immediate and joyous welcoming of Clark.
“I put it as like, you know, when you go to a different school, the first day of school you don’t know anybody,” Wheeler said. “And you find that one person that says hi to you, and they become your best friend. For me, I just wanted to get ahead of it because I know this transition is tough.”
Wheeler smiled and went on to say, “It’s how I was raised. I don’t have no hate in my heart. I want everybody around me to win. Whether you are winning or not, I still want to push you to be great. So, for me, I just thought, like, if I get ahead of it, I’m just making it comfortable right away. … I actually love it because I like being a big sister. I like helping first. I don’t really like getting help. So, it’s refreshing for me to be able to help her and be her big sister.”
And here’s how Clark talked about Wheeler: “I think she’s somebody that simply wants the best for people, no matter what. People can say that, but she really lives it, every day. And you can tell that she’s going to push me, hold me accountable. She’s going to find ways to help me learn, but at the same time, she’s going to have my back every single day, and that’s something I’m really grateful for, coming into this league. Having a vet that really wants the best for you is special.”
As you read that exchange, maybe you thought of someone who made the extra, even surprising effort to welcome you at some point, to make you feel valued, to embrace you as a person, a friend.
For me, that gift came when I was in my first few weeks as a freshman in college—600 miles away from family and friends, feeling homesick, lost.
Amid that unsettling time of transition, a sophomore named Tom reached out to me, took me under his wing, and introduced me to other great people—acts of unexpected and welcomed generosity that gave me a sense of connection, of belonging.
His gift of friendship has continued for decades, a bond that’s cherished all the more for all the laughs, the smiles, the stories, the stupid moments and the deep conversations we have shared through the years—years during which his support and generosity have never wavered.
In many ways, God makes his goodness and his grace known in the world through our friendships. Our closest friends welcome us, lift us and accept us as who we are, with all our faults and limitations. They stand by us when we reach the edges of life, love and faith. Our best friends also encourage, inspire and challenge us to reach for something more.
God takes this gift of friendship to an even higher level. He offers his friendship to each of us, and he offers it unconditionally. No matter what, God accepts us with all his mercy and love. He’s always there for us, even in our darkest moments. He invites and challenges us to deepen the purpose of our lives, our bonds with other people and our relationship with him.
Take time today to reach out to a friend who has touched your life in a wondrous way.
Take time today to thank God for the gift of friendship, including his.
(John Shaughnessy is the assistant editor of The Criterion.) †