Mullins’ Madness

It began, as things often do in March, with numbers that made no sense. Down 19. Missing 17 of their first 18 from beyond the arc. Outplayed, outshot, and, for long stretches, outclassed by the top Blue Devils. And yet, when it mattered most, the Huskies found themselves with the ball, a sliver of time, and a chance that defied logic.

What followed will settle into the NCAA’s collective memory with the ease of inevitability. Freshman Braylon Mullins, scoreless from deep until the final minute, gathered a loose ball near midcourt, took one rhythm dribble, and launched from roughly 35 feet. The shot, however hurried, dropped with 0.4 second left, sealing a 73-72 victory and sending the Huskies to yet another Final Four.

For longtime hoops fans, the development brings with it a temptation to frame the moment as a lightning strike that fits neatly within the randomness of March Madness. But the lure and allure of chance figures to undersell what has, over time, become the defining trait of the Huskies’ program under head coach Dan Hurley. They do not merely survive chaos; they seem to anticipate it, bend toward it, and trust that if they remain within reach, their discipline, instinct, and sheer belief will tilt the balance in their favor. This is, after all, their third Final Four in four years, a run that brings with it thoughts of a dynasty.

And yet, for all the Huskies’ programmatic excellence, the contest should not have belonged to them. The Blue Devils dictated terms for nearly 39 minutes. With the Boozer brothers taking charge, they were composed on offense and suffocating on defense. Even late, when the margin was trimmed, they still held the advantage: up two with single-digit seconds remaining, one clean set of passes away from closing the door. Instead, another turnover, forced under pressure, snatched defeat from the throes of victory.

This is the cruelty, and the beauty, of the tournament. It rewards timing as much as it crowns consistency. For the Blue Devils, the loss will linger not because they were outplayed, but because they failed to outlast. For the Huskies, the triumph reinforces a subtler truth: greatness at this level is not always about dominance. Sometimes, it is about remaining confident long enough for the improbable to happen.

In time, Mullins’ shot will take its place alongside the tournament’s canonical moments; it will be replayed and reinterpreted until revisionist history makes it all but preordained. In the fleeting moment before it left his hands, however, it was a last resort: born of desperation, suspended between defeat and deliverance. That it found the net says as much about the Huskies’ enduring poise as about the tournament itself: unforgiving, unscripted, and, on occasion, impossibly kind.

Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.