It was only a sentence. And not even a loud one. Just one of those conversational, under-your-breath observations.
It came during a WNBA broadcast on ESPN: Indiana Fever versus the Las Vegas Aces. Rebecca Lobo, Olympic gold medalist turned analyst, was doing what she’s been doing for years: talking about basketball. There was a debate on a foul. She disagreed with her broadcast partner, Pam Ward. That’s when she said it:
“That’s what makes America great.”
No flags waving, chants, or red hats. Just a brief, sincere appreciation for the idea that we’re allowed to see the same thing differently and say so.
And that’s when it happened.
Ward didn’t respond, didn’t smile or nod, or even acknowledge the remark. Just silence that dragged on. The kind of silence that makes you shift in your chair.
Lobo noticed, too. She hesitated, then she asked, “I should rephrase that.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly. She wasn’t backing up: She was backing away because the temperature had changed.
And that moment? That’s where the story really begins.
"I should rephrase that" https://t.co/U3rxWphcId pic.twitter.com/7XJNgWMmov
— CJ Fogler 🫡 (@cjzero) June 22, 2025
The Cow Who Knew Too Much
There’s an old Far Side cartoon. A classic. In it, Farmer Brown walks into his barn and sees two cows crouched beside a poster diagramming the cuts of beef on a cow’s body. “Shoulder chops,” “throw-away spare ribs,” the whole thing. One cow is holding a pointer, and the other’s mid-note. They all lock eyes.
“Farmer Brown froze in his tracks; the cows stared wide-eyed back at him. Somewhere, off in the distance, a dog barked.”
That’s the joke. No bark nearby or violence. Just a vague signal, far away. And yet, it’s enough to send every living thing in that barn into wide-eyed panic.
Pam Ward didn’t bark and didn’t need to. The silence WAS the bark. That distance, whatever social force they feared, that’s what made Lobo fold.
The New National Taboo
Let’s pause and think about what actually happened.
Speaking freely and paid to do it, two women broadcast a nationally televised women's basketball game. One of them had the chutzpah to proudly suggest that disagreement without being punished for it is a cherished American gift.
A heartbeat later, she apologized for it.
Does that broadcast team know how many countries in the world wouldn't allow this to happen? How many places would they get stoned to death for even attempting to speak publicly, let alone broadcast a women's sporting event?
The woman who made such an egregious sin, Rebecca Logo, said something that should've been obvious. What she said wasn't political; it was a fact: Yet she needed to correct herself. Not because what she said was wrong but because somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.
When Silence Does the Talking
We only had the silence to work from, but it's safe to assume Lobo's broadcast partner, Pam Ward, didn't roll her eyes, argue, or even challenge Lobo. She did something powerful: she delivered a performative pause that signaled condemnation.
The pause set me off.
Lobo's phrasing didn't anger the left, just what they imagined what was behind it. Using sheer silence, Ward played the enforcer, knowing Lobo wandered into wet concrete. Knowing how their audience might react, she let her partner sink further into the concrete.
Living in a society that supposedly values strong women speaking freely, Ward betrayed that principle by causing another woman to feel as though she needed to apologize for expressing her gratitude for a liberty Ward takes for granted.
Then, as though nothing had happened, they moved on.
Hypocrisy in Real Time
Free speech, expression and truth to power: Three facts in which the left brands itself as the dog guarding the flock. Except for one tiny detail, truth requires conformance to the narrative.
Why was Logo alone? Where were the defenders of speech when she was pressured to apologize for saying, "... that's what makes America great?" Was the speak-to-truth brigade writing code for another DEI reeducation module?
Unfortunately, Ward's reaction is normal, isn't it? The refusal to engage, her smug silence is now the new form of rebuke. Ward isn't canceling Lobo with words; she's freezing her out with silence.
Think about this. A censor didn't silence Lobo; her on-air partner silenced her.
For the Record: This Isn’t About the WNBA
Let me be clear: In this column, I'm not passing any judgment on the sport, fans, or the players. However, I'm not a fan of the league, level of play, or politics—especially the politics.
Most importantly, this isn’t about women in sports. It’s about silence in culture.
Ward didn’t just ignore Lobo; she iced her and froze her out. Let her dangle for a few awkward beats, then nodded as if to say, “You clean that up yourself.”
That smugness, that polished condescension, is what stuck with me.
Let’s Ask Pam Something
Pam, how do you think your job would go over in, say, Riyadh?
Would:
- They let you wear a headset and break down women’s basketball?
- There be women’s basketball?
- You be allowed to speak, uncovered, unfiltered, about officiating calls and foul pressure?
- Your voice be broadcast into homes?
Or would you be shut out before the tipoff?
You live in a country where that setup is not only allowed, it’s celebrated. Paid for and televised, while your colleague gave a little nod to that miracle, you met it with cold air.
No, thank you, or good point, just quiet judgment.
Final Thoughts
We’ve lost the thread.
We’ve trained people to second-guess their instincts, apologize for their clarity, and filter out even the most sincere praise for their country.
Rebecca Lobo did what any human would do in a free country: she admired the freedom to disagree. That was once a national virtue.
Now, it’s a slip-up.
And somewhere, off in the distance… a dog barked.
The barn froze. The pointer dropped. Everyone pretended they weren’t doing anything out of bounds.
But they were. She was stepping on holy ground, patriotism, and didn’t know she had to take her shoes off first.
