You can’t truly love Caitlin Clark without picking a favorite co-star. That’s the quiet truth about a transcendent talent whose greatness was amplified by a cast of women who never sought the spotlight but were always ready for it. Caitlin Clark didn’t just make history at Iowa—she shared it. And while she’s now off to the WNBA, rewriting professional records with the same ease she once dropped 40-foot bombs in college, the women who ran alongside her are still running through the hearts of fans everywhere.
To talk about Caitlin Clark’s legacy without talking about her teammates is to miss half the story. No one averages 30+ points and 10 assists without someone finishing those plays. No one pulls off double-teams and triple coverage without teammates spacing the floor, cutting with purpose, boxing out, and setting bone-rattling screens. For every Clark dagger, there was a co-star making the sacrifice play.
Start with Kate Martin. The heart of the Hawkeyes. If Clark was the thunder, Martin was the drumbeat that kept everything moving. A sixth-year senior whose leadership was equal parts grit and grace, Martin wasn’t just Clark’s running mate—she was her anchor. The moments that defined Iowa basketball’s recent golden era were often punctuated by Martin’s diving saves, her timely corner threes, her calm demeanor in the chaos. You could see it in the way Clark trusted her—those whip passes to the wing with no hesitation, the shared glances in transition that said “I got you.”
Martin didn’t chase headlines, but she caught hearts. When she declared for the WNBA Draft, it was seen as a final act of solidarity with Clark, her partner in historic crime. And when she was drafted by the Las Vegas Aces, it was a testament to the belief that every dynasty needs its glue. Ask anyone who truly followed Iowa basketball: Kate Martin wasn’t a role player—she was a foundational piece.
Then there was Gabbie Marshall, the defensive bulldog. The type of player who didn’t need points to change a game. Her presence was felt on every possession she played. She was the one diving on the floor for loose balls, taking the assignment of guarding the opponent’s best perimeter player, and doing it with unrelenting energy. Clark’s ability to gamble on steals or cheat passing lanes stemmed, in part, from the trust she had in Marshall’s defensive instincts.
Marshall didn’t care about recognition. She cared about winning. And fans knew it. She was the one who made those momentum-saving stops, who slid into help defense to take a charge when Iowa desperately needed a spark. She understood her role and executed it with surgical precision. In the era of stats-driven basketball, Marshall was a reminder that effort and heart still matter.
There was also Monika Czinano—the post presence who gave Clark the runway to fly early in her career. Before Clark was a household name, it was Czinano holding it down in the paint, creating mismatches, and opening lanes. Their pick-and-roll game was art, with Monika’s screens giving Clark the fraction of space she needed to create magic.
Czinano played with a physicality that freed Clark to play with flair. And in doing so, she became a beloved figure in her own right—a humble star who accepted her job and executed it with brilliance. Czinano’s chemistry with Clark was almost telepathic, a bond forged not just on the court but through years of growing and grinding together. When she graduated, it felt like the end of an era. But her imprint remained.
And then there’s Hannah Stuelke—the next-generation weapon. She was the emerging power forward who brought a different kind of energy to the lineup, pairing athleticism with untapped offensive promise. Stuelke represented the future even as she played in the now, a sponge absorbing lessons from a once-in-a-lifetime leader in Clark.
She gave Iowa crucial bursts off the bench, often injecting tempo and rebounding when things stalled. As Clark’s senior season unfolded, Stuelke began blossoming in real-time, learning not just how to play with Clark, but how to maximize every moment on the floor. While others deferred, Stuelke challenged. That push—that hunger—made the team better. That’s what a co-star does.
It’s easy to fall in love with the fireworks Clark provided. The logo threes, the behind-the-back passes, the double-double nights that came like clockwork. But what made those moments matter was that someone caught the pass, someone sealed a defender, someone battled for the rebound, someone sacrificed a shot to set a screen. Behind the highlight reel was a sisterhood. That was the real story.
The truth is, Caitlin Clark made the impossible look inevitable. But she never made it about herself. In every postgame presser, every social media shoutout, every moment that could have been self-congratulatory, she pointed outward. She knew the difference between solo greatness and team glory.
That’s what makes choosing a favorite co-star so beautiful—it’s impossible to go wrong. Whether you were moved by Kate Martin’s emotional leadership, inspired by Gabbie Marshall’s iron defense, wowed by Czinano’s selfless post play, or excited by Stuelke’s youthful fire, each player brought something irreplaceable. They all mattered. They all made history.
And let’s not forget the bench. Sydney Affolter, Molly Davis, Taylor McCabe—names that don’t trend on Twitter but carved out their roles with pride. Affolter was the grinder, Davis the quiet creator, McCabe the shooter waiting in the wings. They weren’t background noise; they were part of the rhythm.
Together, this Iowa team—led by Clark but carried by many—did what few programs have done. They didn’t just win games. They captured the imagination of a country. They sold out arenas, boosted ratings, and proved that women’s basketball isn’t a niche—it’s a movement. Clark may have been the catalyst, but her teammates were the combustion engine.
That’s why “picking a favorite co-star” isn’t about ranking. It’s about recognizing. It’s about honoring the players who allowed greatness to flourish without needing to claim it for themselves. That kind of humility is rare. That kind of commitment is sacred.
When the final buzzer sounded on Caitlin Clark’s college career, there were tears—some of joy, some of heartbreak. But none were tears of regret. Iowa didn’t win every title, but they won something more lasting: respect, admiration, and a place in the pantheon of teams that changed the game.
And now, as Clark lights up the WNBA and becomes a global icon, her co-stars live on in every fan who followed the journey. You can’t watch Clark and not think of Martin’s leadership, Marshall’s hustle, Czinano’s screens, Stuelke’s rising star. You can’t separate the brilliance from the bond.
In the end, that’s what made Iowa unforgettable. Not just the numbers, not just the records, but the relationships. The quiet glances between teammates. The selfless passes. The fist-bumps after hustle plays. The knowing that every star needs a sky full of constellations.
So pick your favorite. Tell the world why Kate Martin made you believe. Why Gabbie Marshall reminded you of what defense can do. Why Monika Czinano made you see beauty in the basics. Why Hannah Stuelke gave you hope for what’s next. Because to truly love Caitlin Clark is to love the women who stood beside her. Who lifted her. Who let her fly and stayed grounded so she could soar.
They didn’t just play with Caitlin Clark. They made history happen.
