Currently fighting a losing battle to resist correcting half the internet about the usab roster. It’s for World Cup qualifiers, not the World Cup itself. It’s objectively great to make it onto this roster, but it’s also the audition for the big stage.
Do I think a bunch of these players will make the wc roster? Yes. But do I think they’re not taking A’ja and Stewie, at least, to the wc? Absolutely not.
We could probably entertain ourselves for a while trying to pick a final wc roster out of this one and the last olympic roster. It’s an objectively great problem to have.
So, I wrote a thing. Apologies/thanks to @nycscribbler and @givemefuelll for being thinky and inspiring me. I sat with my thoughts for a while, and it turns out I wanted to tell you a love story instead of providing a defense. So this is my love letter to UConn women's basketball.
Everyone comes to sports fandom differently. Some people find a player they can’t help obsessing over, or they stumble across a local team with a lot of heart and charm. Maybe they watch games with a friend until they click with some random team because of vibes (shoutout to my sportschat!). But me? I fell in love with a juggernaut.
I think I can safely blame it on Maya. I challenge anyone to have watched her in her prime and not have been totally captivated. It didn’t hurt that those were the days of the old, good Big East, when we had to play goddamn ND a billion times a year, and I hated (loved) every second of it. But there was also Tina and her calm efficiency, Tip with her flash, Doty who couldn’t stay healthy but could contribute her heart, and Kelly Faris, who barely ever cracked a smile and played like some kind of Midwestern surgeon of a guard. Ash reminds me of her sometimes. Must be the Hoosier in them both.
Every year, there was someone new to love. Stef with her big feelings and bigger grin. KML, the sharpshooter, who could pull up from anywhere. Then came Stewie, Mo, and Tuck. Kia and Gabby. Phee and Katie Lou. It was a golden age of UConn women’s basketball, and we all knew it. That’s around the time I started going to games.
I was there the night we crushed ND at Gampel during Stewie’s senior year, squished onto a metal bench with my knees in someone’s back when we bothered to sit down. I was there for Crystal’s coming out party against Baylor the next year, when she scored 19 off the bench. I was there the night Stewie came back from her achilles tear to play for USAB, when UConn draped jerseys and flowers across their bench to mourn the three little girls who would never play for them. “If you think you can’t, UConn,” as Gigi said.
I was there at the Big East tournament in 2020, the week before everything shut down. And I was there the minute they let us come back, to watch the improbable journey of a skinny blonde girl from Minnesota, who carried the weight of legacy on her back with grace and tenacity. I was there through the injuries, the broken streaks, the days where it felt like everyone, even the dog, couldn’t catch a break. I was there the night Paige said goodbye to Gampel forever, off to win her Natty.
I am there still, with all the other UConn faithful, marveling at Sarah’s ability to do everything and falling in love with Blanca more every day. I’m delighting in KK’s speed and growth (and that thing she does when she’s guarding the inbound that looks like jumping jacks on a pogo stick). I’m loving Azzi’s return to form and blossoming confidence. I’m watching in real time as Kayleigh and Serah get their feet under them. I’m cheering Allie’s sophomore leap and Jana’s ability to finally finish around the rim and the way Ash grins when she brings down a rebound. I’m celebrating every time Caroline and Yanna get on the floor and hoping that Ice and Morgan get back soon. I’m adoring Kelis’s swagger and risk-taking and looking forward to the baller Gandy will become.
I love this team in every iteration. I love that they play for the name on the front of their jerseys and never put one on the back. I love that they are, at all times, chasing perfection (as the podcast says). They respect the game. They want to play it right. And when it’s right, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
So I guess what I’m saying is: it’s okay to love the juggernaut. It’s okay to love a beautiful thing because it is beautiful. Just be sure to marvel at how it becomes that way. Beauty is a gift, not an expectation. Reaching for perfection requires sacrifice – of time, of energy, and yes, even of individual accolades. We’re building something together, here. The collective is what matters. The strength of the collective is how we win.
I say we because we’re all in this together. The players, the coaches, the staff, and us – the fans. That cranky old guy behind me who used to count Yanna’s fouls every game. The little girl down front in braids and KK’s jersey who hops through half the game. The people around me who have to listen to me will the team on and sometimes even find my commentary funny.
We show up every game for the collective experience, the journey that is each play and each game and each season. We cheer when it all works out and groan when it falls short. We live for the moments of magic – when passing is easy and defense is stout and everyone’s shots are falling. And then the next year, we do it all again.
As far as I’m concerned, UConn was never bad for basketball. It has always been a gift. It brings me joy and heartbreak, frustration and elation. It gets me through hard times. And maybe most importantly, it has given me all of you.
So thank you, UConn, for being exactly who you are. Unapologetically striving and empire-building. Demanding perfection and respect in equal measure. I love you unironically, and I think I always will.
Years ago, I fell in love with a juggernaut. And I continue to marvel at its beauty to this day.
