Braylon Mullins Hit That Shot With Cold Hands and an Empty Statistical Record

Before Sunday, Mullins had gone 10-for-57 from three since late February. That's not a slump. That's a statistical ice age. In the tournament itself, he was 4-for-23 from deep coming into the Duke game [2]. The bracket sites had UConn's Final Four odds at roughly 0.3% heading into the Elite Eight — which tells you how seriously anyone was taking this matchup. Duke, for their part, had never lost a game in the tournament when leading by 15 or more at halftime. Their record in that situation was 27-0 [1]. They led by 19 at the half. Cameron Boozer had 27 points. The Blue Devils had been to two straight Final Fours and were being talked about as championship-level. Jon Scheyer was coaching one of the most talented rosters in the country. And then Braylon Mullins happened.

We couldn't stop them. They hit every shot when it mattered. And then... that.

— Duke Head Coach Jon Scheyer, after the loss

The Laettner Comparison Is Mandatory — And Also Insufficient

Every media outlet in the country is going to run the Christian Laettner comparison, and they're not wrong to do it. Laettner's 1992 buzzer-beater off a full-court inbound pass — catch, turn, swish — is the gold standard of tournament drama. But that shot came from a senior, a two-time champion, a guy who had been the most prepared player on the court his entire career [1]. Mullins is a freshman who was in his high school state tournament exactly one year before hitting this shot. One year. He went from Indiana prep ball to the biggest stage in college basketball in the span of 12 months, and he delivered in a moment that experienced players have crumbled in for decades. For a tighter modern parallel, look at Jalen Suggs' 40-footer for Gonzaga in the 2021 Final Four. That was 37 feet. It was also a freshman moment. But Gonzaga was tied when Suggs hit it — not down one with 0.4 seconds left after erasing a 19-point deficit [2]. The contextual chaos around Mullins' shot is in a class of its own.

UConn's Comeback Deserves Its Own Story

It would be a disservice to reduce Sunday night to just the final shot. The comeback was its own achievement. UConn was down 19 at halftime. That's not a mountain, that's Everest — in an Elite Eight, against the No. 1 seed, in a game with no margin for error. Only twice before in Elite Eight history or later had a team come back from a 19-point halftime deficit [1]. The Huskies did it behind Tarris Reed Jr.'s 26 points and a second half where they couldn't miss. From the 12-minute mark of the second half onward, UConn looked like a completely different team. Duke, to their credit, had done everything right for 20 minutes. Boozer was dominant. Their defense was making UConn work for every possession. But then came that final stretch — eight turnovers in 18 minutes, a 3-point barrage from UConn, and a team that simply couldn't close out. This wasn't the first time Duke has blown a big lead, either. They were up 17 on Texas Tech earlier this season, up 13 on North Carolina, up 14 on Houston in last year's Final Four [1]. Finishing is a thing.

This is now UConn's third Final Four in four years under Dan Hurley, who has quietly built one of the most consistent programs in the country without relying on one-and-done lottery picks. Mullins is the prototype of what Hurley looks for — a four-year developmental player who grows into the moment. The fact that it came one year in rather than four doesn't change the blueprint [2].

What Comes Next

UConn faces No. 3 Illinois in the Final Four on April 4 in Indianapolis. The Illini are slight favorites — ESPN's prediction model gives Illinois a 59% edge — with the game going through Illinois' volume three-point shooting and UConn's elite post defense [1]. But if there's anything Sunday taught us, it's that matchups and metrics only get you so far. March Madness has a way of finding the person nobody expects, putting the ball in their hands, and watching what happens. Braylon Mullins was 10-for-57 from three over a six-week stretch. He needed exactly one of those to matter. He got it with 0.4 seconds left.

Look, I've watched a lot of basketball. I write about basketball for a living. Every year, March pulls out something that makes me feel like I'm seeing sports for the first time. This was one of those moments — not because the basketball was perfect, but because it was perfectly imperfect. A slumping freshman on the road against the best team in the country, in the biggest game of his young life, stepped into a 35-footer like he'd been waiting for it. That's March Madness. That's all it's ever been [2].