Kim Mulkey doesn’t usually let her voice waver. She’s built a career on sharp edges, on certainty, control, and a kind of sideline fire that rarely flickers. But this time, it did. Not because of a loss or a bad call, but because of something far harder to coach around: endings.
Why Flau’jae Johnson’s Final LSU Home Game Has Kim Mulkey Emotional
As LSU prepares to tip off its NCAA Tournament run, Mulkey isn’t just talking about matchups and momentum; she’s asking for something more human. If Flau’jae Johnson is about to play her last game at home, she wants the stands full, the lights bright, and the goodbye loud enough.
“If we’re fortunate enough to beat Jacksonville (in the opening round of the NCAA Tournament Friday), get out here on Sunday and watch Flau’jae,” Mulkey said. “That will be her last game ever; I get emotional because that kid has meant so much to our program.
“We should sell it out. That kid means so much to this university … We need to do it, and we need to promote it because she’s going to be dearly missed not just in my program but at this university.”
The strange thing about endings is how quietly they arrive. One minute, you’re in the middle of something (practice drills, road trips, and inside jokes that feel like they’ll last forever), and the next, someone says, this is it. Or almost it.
That’s where LSU finds itself now, hovering in that in-between space where the present still matters most, but the future is starting to tap insistently on the shoulder.
Mulkey didn’t get emotional on Senior Night. At least, not outwardly. There was still more basketball to be played in Baton Rouge, more time to delay the inevitable.
A top seed guaranteed that. It gave everyone (players, coaches, and fans) a little extra borrowed time. But borrowed time has a way of running out when you’re not looking.
It hit her later, during a radio interview. The realization slipped in: Johnson, the player who helped shape this era of LSU basketball, is almost done here. And just like that, Mulkey’s voice caught.
Johnson, of course, heard about it. This Coach Mulkey? The same one who had been getting on her earlier that morning at practice? It felt almost unreal. And yet, it made perfect sense.
Because what they’ve built together doesn’t fit into one moment.
The result wasn’t just wins, though there were plenty of those, including a national championship that felt, in hindsight, almost inevitable. Now, four years later, the story is nearing its final pages in Baton Rouge.
