I remember walking through the Pete Maravich Assembly Center last March, the air thick with anticipation even though the stands were empty. It was two hours before tip-off against Iowa in the Elite Eight, and I could already feel the energy building. That’s when it hit me—this wasn’t just another basketball game. This was the moment LSU women’s basketball transformed from a promising program into something far greater. You could trace the journey back years, but right there, in the quiet before the storm, you could almost touch the shift happening.
I’ve followed college sports long enough to know that turning a team into a national championship contender doesn’t happen overnight. For LSU, it started with Kim Mulkey’s arrival in 2021. The numbers tell part of the story—she took over a team that went 9–13 the previous season and by her second year, they were 26–6. But numbers don’t capture the cultural overhaul. Mulkey didn’t just recruit talent; she built belief. I remember watching her first press conference, where she mentioned wanting to “win championships” and thinking, “Well, that’s ambitious.” Turns out, she meant every word.
What’s fascinating is how this mirrors stories from other programs facing their own ghosts. I once read about the University of the Philippines men’s basketball team, which carried a 32-year championship drought like an anchor. When they finally broke through in 2021, it wasn’t just about tactics—it was about exorcising curses, too. That phrase stuck with me because it’s exactly what LSU had to do. For years, this program lingered in the shadow of powers like UConn and South Carolina. They had talent, sure, but they lacked that final piece—the psychological edge that turns close games into victories.
I saw it firsthand during that Iowa game. With 4 minutes left, LSU was down by 5. The crowd—a record 15,000-plus—seemed to hold its breath. Then Alexis Morris drove to the basket, drew a foul, and something clicked. The team played with a fury I hadn’t seen before. They weren’t just playing to win; they were playing to rewrite history. When the final buzzer sounded, sealing a 102–85 victory, the roar wasn’t just celebration—it was catharsis. That’s when I knew: How LSU women’s basketball became a national championship contender wasn’t just about X’s and O’s. It was about shedding the weight of “almost” and embracing “now.”
Let’s talk about Angel Reese for a second. I mean, come on—34 double-doubles in a single season? That’s not just stats; that’s dominance. But what impressed me more was her leadership. During timeouts, she’d gather the younger players, not with anger, but with this calm intensity. It reminded me of how some great leaders in sports—think Tim Duncan or Sue Bird—elevate everyone around them. Reese did that, and it showed in games where LSU outrebounded opponents by an average of 9.2 boards per game. That kind of consistency doesn’t happen by accident.
Now, I’ll be honest—I’ve always had a soft spot for teams that defy expectations. Maybe it’s because I grew up watching underdogs, but there’s something magical about a group that collectively decides, “Enough is enough.” And in the case of the University of the Philippines, it exorcises curses, too. LSU’s journey felt similar. Before Mulkey, the program had never reached a Final Four. Now, they’re not just participants; they’re threats. It’s the kind of turnaround that makes you believe in sports as a force for transformation.
The NCAA tournament run last season was a masterclass in resilience. Take the title game against Iowa—LSU shot 54% from the field and made 11 three-pointers. But beyond the numbers, what stood out was their poise. Every time Iowa made a run, LSU responded. Jasmine Carson’s 22 points off the bench? That’s the depth of a contender. Flau’jae Johnson’s defensive stops? That’s the heart. I remember turning to my friend during the third quarter and saying, “They’re not just winning; they’re making a statement.”
Of course, none of this would matter if the foundation wasn’t solid. Recruiting has been key—LSU’s 2023 class ranked in the top 5 nationally, with players like Mikaylah Williams already making waves. But it’s the culture that seals the deal. Mulkey created an environment where players aren’t afraid to fail, and that’s rare. I’ve seen too many teams play tight in big moments, but this group? They play like they own the moment.
So, where does that leave us now? As the new season approaches, LSU isn’t just hoping for another shot—they’re expecting it. And why shouldn’t they? With Reese returning, along with key transfers like Hailey Van Lith, this team is built for the long haul. I’ll admit, I’m biased—I love a good comeback story, and LSU’s rise checks all the boxes. But beyond my personal preferences, there’s a tangible sense that something special is brewing in Baton Rouge. How LSU women’s basketball became a national championship contender is a lesson in patience, vision, and, yes, a little bit of magic. And if you ask me, they’re just getting started.
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