The Texas Longhorns’ remarkable 35-4 season that culminated in a Final Four appearance for the first time since 2003 will forever be etched into the annals of the program’s rich basketball history. For a fanbase that had waited over two decades to see their team return to college basketball’s biggest stage, this year’s campaign offered not only satisfaction, but a powerful reminder that excellence in Austin extends far beyond the gridiron. The Longhorns didn’t just win games—they dominated, evolved, and captured the hearts of a nation that had grown used to viewing them as a perennial underdog on the hardwood. This 35-4 run wasn’t a fluke, nor was it the result of luck or favorable scheduling. It was the product of grit, focus, and a long-term vision finally reaching maturity.
Coming into the season, expectations were high. Head coach Rodney Terry, officially given the reins after last season’s inspiring interim run, had a full offseason to prepare, to recruit, and to install his identity. He inherited a team with experience, athleticism, and hunger—players who were tired of early exits and unmet potential. This was a roster built to go deep, a balanced fusion of seasoned veterans and dynamic young talent. From day one, the Longhorns played with a different edge. They blitzed through the non-conference schedule with ferocity, earning signature wins that put the rest of the country on notice. The defense was suffocating. The offense was versatile and unselfish. And the chemistry was undeniable.
Every team has a leader, and for Texas, that leadership came from their senior guard who had flirted with the NBA but returned for one last shot at glory. He brought steadiness, scoring, and most importantly, a quiet confidence that permeated throughout the locker room. Alongside him was a frontcourt tandem that could rebound, run the floor, and protect the rim—an interior presence Texas teams of the recent past sorely lacked. The bench was equally potent, with role players stepping up in pivotal moments, each seemingly embracing the “next man up” mantra Terry had preached since preseason. The rotation ran deep, but more impressively, it ran selflessly.
In Big 12 play, Texas proved they were not just built to win—they were built to impose their will. Going toe-to-toe with Kansas, Baylor, Houston, and other heavyweights, the Longhorns showcased their versatility. When games turned physical, they pushed back. When tempo was slowed, they executed. When three-point shots weren’t falling, they attacked the paint with calculated aggression. There was no single formula for how Texas won games, which made them that much harder to scout and stop. Their only losses came narrowly, and each served as a teaching moment rather than a setback. The team never lost back-to-back games, and they entered March with the quiet poise of a contender that knew its time was near.
When the NCAA Tournament began, the Longhorns weren’t just a dangerous team—they were a feared one. Pundits debated their seed, but no one questioned their legitimacy. From the opening round, they played like a group with a chip on their shoulder. Their offense was surgical and their defense overwhelming. They held one of the nation’s most explosive teams to its lowest output of the year in the Sweet 16, and their Elite Eight win over a top-seeded squad sent shockwaves through the college basketball world. Texas wasn’t sneaking by—they were asserting themselves as one of the nation’s most complete teams.
Reaching the Final Four for the first time since 2003 felt like a breaking of a curse, but in truth, it was the realization of a journey years in the making. The program had invested in facilities, coaching, and culture. The administration had shown patience and faith. The players had put in the work. When the final buzzer sounded in the regional final, securing their ticket to the Final Four, the emotions were raw and unfiltered. Players collapsed to the court. Coaches hugged like brothers. Fans in burnt orange erupted in joy that had been long overdue.
While the Final Four game did not end in a championship, it was not seen as a loss by the Longhorns faithful. Texas fought valiantly, pushing their opponent to the brink in a game defined by physical play and late-game execution. Even in defeat, they walked off the court with heads held high, knowing they had given everything they had. For the seniors, it was the culmination of years of effort. For the underclassmen, it was a glimpse of what’s possible. And for Coach Terry, it was validation on a national scale that he belonged among the sport’s elite.
What set this Longhorns team apart wasn’t just their record—it was their resilience and unity. In an era where players frequently transfer and egos often get in the way, Texas was a case study in cohesion. Every man on the roster knew his role and embraced it. There were no distractions, no public complaints, no implosions during adversity. They trusted the system, and they trusted each other. That trust showed up in late-game possessions, in defensive rotations, and in how they communicated on and off the floor. It was the type of culture every program aspires to build, but few successfully implement.
Recruiting is the lifeblood of college basketball, and Texas’ success this year is already paying dividends in that department. Top prospects are taking notice. Five-star talents have mentioned Texas in their final lists. Transfers with eyes on a deep tournament run are reaching out. The program has momentum, and more importantly, it has credibility. No longer are the Longhorns a dark horse or a sleeper pick—they are a premier destination for players who want to win and develop.
Beyond basketball, the 2024-2025 Longhorns reminded the university and its community of the unifying power of sport. Attendance at Moody Center surged. Students camped out for tickets. Alumni returned in droves. The city of Austin embraced the team like never before. Watch parties filled local bars, and the team became part of the cultural fabric of the city. It wasn’t just a basketball season—it was a movement.
The ripple effects of this Final Four run will be felt for years. Administrators now have even more justification for continuing to invest in basketball. The coaching staff has a foundation to build on. The players, whether returning or moving on, leave behind a legacy of excellence. And the fans? They finally have a team that matched the passion they’ve always had for the burnt orange. The standard has been reset. The drought is over. Texas basketball is back.
The road to 35-4 wasn’t without its challenges. There were injuries, including a stretch where a key rotation player was sidelined, forcing others to step up. There were games where shots wouldn’t fall, where the rim seemed unforgiving, and where officials’ whistles felt one-sided. But in each of those moments, the team showed maturity and togetherness. They didn’t fracture. They doubled down on their identity. They made winning plays. And by the time March arrived, they weren’t just experienced—they were battle-tested.
Now, as the offseason begins and eyes turn to next year, the Longhorns sit at a crossroads—but in the best way possible. The decisions ahead involve abundance, not scarcity. Which rising star will take the leadership mantle? Which freshman will break out? How will Coach Terry and his staff use this run to evolve their system further? The answers will come in time, but what’s certain is this: Texas is no longer chasing relevance. They’ve arrived. And the nation better get used to seeing them on the sport’s biggest stage.
For those who watched it unfold—the comebacks, the dominant stretches, the roaring home crowd, the elation of March, the heartbreak of the Final Four—it was more than basketball. It was the rekindling of tradition. It was the manifestation of belief. It was, simply, Texas. 35-4 wasn’t just a record. It was a declaration. The Longhorns are here, and they intend to stay.
