When the LSU Tigers walked into Reed Arena on Sunday afternoon, they weren’t just battling the Texas A&M Aggies—they were confronting one of the most hostile environments in all of college basketball. The 12th Man, the pride of College Station, was out in full force, eager to rattle the defending national champions and throw Kim Mulkey’s squad off their rhythm. But what unfolded was something entirely different: a wire-to-wire statement victory by LSU that reminded the nation what championship pedigree looks like when it meets preparation, poise, and unapologetic confidence.
With every possession, every hustle play, and every pinpoint execution from the Tigers, the raucous Texas A&M crowd grew quieter. LSU methodically dismantled the Aggies’ early energy, turning a potential trap game into a signature road win. The final score told a clear story, but it was the way LSU carried itself—relentlessly focused, physically imposing, and mentally unshakable—that sent an even louder message.
This wasn’t just a game. It was a masterclass by one of the sport’s most decorated coaches, Kim Mulkey, and a defining moment in the Tigers’ quest to repeat as champions. Mulkey, already a four-time national champion, had her team firing on all cylinders, with a game plan that was equal parts tactical brilliance and emotional control. LSU didn’t just win—they dominated in every phase, rendering the 12th Man a non-factor and taking the life out of a crowd that came ready to celebrate.
From the opening tip, LSU established control. The Tigers came out with suffocating defense, denying clean looks and forcing rushed shots from the Aggies. On offense, their ball movement was crisp, their screens were punishing, and their transition game was lethal. Led by the indomitable Angel Reese, who once again put up a double-double with a mix of finesse and brute strength, LSU never let Texas A&M breathe.
Reese’s leadership on the court cannot be overstated. Time and again, when the Aggies tried to mount any sort of momentum, she delivered—whether it was a key rebound, a timely block, or a backbreaking bucket that sucked the life out of the arena. Her presence was a constant reminder of what elite looks like. She wasn’t alone either. Flau’jae Johnson played with relentless energy, causing chaos on the defensive end and hitting big shots on the perimeter. Hailey Van Lith provided a steady hand in the backcourt, managing tempo and making sure the Tigers stayed composed, even when Texas A&M made a few desperate pushes.
The Tigers’ bench also rose to the occasion. Mulkey’s rotation was airtight, with each player knowing their role and executing it to perfection. It was that depth—an oft-overlooked hallmark of championship teams—that really began to show as the game wore on. While Texas A&M showed flashes of brilliance, LSU never allowed those flashes to ignite a real comeback. The Tigers suffocated runs before they could start, often answering Aggie buckets with timely three-pointers or fast-break layups that felt like daggers.
What stood out most wasn’t just LSU’s physical dominance, but their mental sharpness. On a day when distractions were everywhere—signs waving in the stands, chants raining down, and the ever-present intensity of a rival crowd—LSU played with blinders on. Mulkey’s team was locked in from start to finish, refusing to let emotion cloud their execution. That mental toughness, forged in practices and previous battles, was on full display in College Station.
For Texas A&M, it was a bitter pill. The Aggies came into the contest hoping to make a statement of their own. They had the crowd, they had the motivation, and they had a respectable record. But what they encountered was a program operating at another level. Coach Joni Taylor’s squad had no answer for the Tigers’ defensive pressure and struggled to generate rhythm in the half court. Their leading scorers were neutralized, their pick-and-roll schemes sniffed out, and their defensive rotations shredded by LSU’s ball movement.
Even when the Aggies tried to throw different looks—switching to zone, applying full-court pressure, trying to disrupt LSU’s timing—Mulkey countered each adjustment with cold precision. It was like watching a grandmaster play chess against an opponent still learning the board. Every move Texas A&M made was met with a counter that exploited a weakness or exposed a gap. And as the final buzzer sounded, there was no mistaking who the superior team was.
This win meant more than just another checkmark in the standings. It was a gut-check moment for a program that has had to balance the weight of expectations with the reality of being every opponent’s biggest game. Being the defending champs comes with a target, and every road game feels like a war. But LSU embraced that pressure. They didn’t just survive in College Station—they thrived.
And that’s where Mulkey deserves her flowers. Her fingerprints were all over this performance. She had her team ready from the jump, and she coached with urgency, passion, and confidence. Whether it was rotating defenses, orchestrating out-of-timeout plays, or pulling a player aside for a quick correction, Mulkey was in complete control. Her energy on the sideline mirrored that of her team on the floor—fiery, disciplined, and unrelenting.
What’s remarkable is how Mulkey continues to evolve. She’s not just a motivator or a recruiter—though she’s elite at both—she’s also one of the sharpest X’s and O’s minds in the game. Her teams don’t just play hard; they play smart. They understand angles, leverage, spacing, and timing. They take calculated risks and execute with discipline. That’s why LSU isn’t just winning games—they’re dictating terms and bending opponents to their will.
The Tigers now return to Baton Rouge with a renewed sense of purpose and momentum. This victory wasn’t just about beating a rival or quieting a crowd. It was about reminding themselves—and the rest of the country—who they are. The road ahead won’t be easy. The SEC remains a gauntlet, and March will test even the best teams in the nation. But if Sunday’s performance is any indication, LSU has both the talent and the temperament to make another deep run.
They have stars who embrace the moment. They have role players who understand their value. They have a system that adapts and endures. And most importantly, they have a coach who knows exactly what it takes to win at the highest level.
As the players walked off the court, the silence in Reed Arena said everything. The 12th Man had been neutralized, their voices replaced by the sound of sneakers squeaking in triumph and the quiet satisfaction of a job well done. LSU didn’t just win—they made a statement. They reminded everyone watching that championship teams don’t just play well at home; they walk into the toughest environments and take what they came for.
That’s what champions do. That’s what Kim Mulkey has built. And that’s what LSU just proved—loud and clear—deep in the heart of Texas.