A Full-Circle Moment and Privilege of Witnessing JuJu Watkins’ Greatness

UNLVFeaturedWomen's Basketball
Written by Willie G. Ramirez

PHOTO COURTESY: USC Athletics

From the likes of Kobe Bryant to Brock Purdy to Kiki Rice, 39 years of covering sports have taught me that greatness sometimes reveals itself long before the world catches on. Now, three years after witnessing JuJu Watkins' unforgettable college debut, I return to the same arena for a moment that means so much more than basketball.

By W.G. RAMIREZ

LAS VEGAS - - - Sometimes, the most meaningful moments in a sports journalist's career aren't the championships, the record-breaking performances, or even the stories that make national headlines.

Sometimes, they're the moments when you realize you've been fortunate enough to witness something special before the rest of the world truly understands what it's seeing.

I've spent 39 years covering sports. I've watched champions emerge, superstars develop and young athletes turn childhood dreams into extraordinary careers.

I've been fortunate enough to witness some of those journeys from their earliest stages.

And on Monday, Nov. 2, when JuJu Watkins steps onto the court at T-Mobile Arena for USC's season opener against UNLV, I'll experience something that doesn't happen very often in this profession.

I'll get to witness the next chapter of a journey I was privileged to see begin.

In the very same building.

Three years ago, almost to the day.

And after everything Watkins has endured, this one feels different.

THE FIRST TIME I SAW JUJU

On Nov. 6, 2023, I sat inside T-Mobile Arena covering the collegiate debut of a young woman who arrived at USC carrying the enormous expectations that come with being the nation's No. 1 recruit.

JuJu Watkins.

Plenty of anticipation surrounded her first game. There always is when someone arrives with that kind of reputation.

But anticipation and delivery are two entirely different things.

Watkins delivered.

Against seventh-ranked Ohio State, the freshman scored 32 points, grabbed six rebounds and handed out five assists while leading No. 21 USC to an 83-74 victory.

She went 11-for-18 from the field.

She scored 16 points in the first half.

And she broke the school record for points in a freshman debut, surpassing a mark previously held by Lisa Leslie.

Think about that for a moment.

Her first college basketball game, and she was already moving past one of the most recognizable names in women's basketball history.

I remember writing the game story that afternoon for the Associated Press.

I remember the composure.

The confidence.

The unmistakable sense that this wasn't simply another talented freshman enjoying an exceptional afternoon.

There was something different about her.

When I spoke with Watkins afterward, she was still processing what had happened.

"I'm lost for words right now, I'm still kind of processing everything," she told us.

That response has stayed with me.

Because while everyone else was beginning to understand what JuJu Watkins might become, she was simply enjoying the opportunity to compete.

And I felt like I had just witnessed the beginning of something extraordinary.

WHEN GREATNESS CROSSES YOUR PATH

I've never had the luxury of following every generational athlete from beginning to end.

That's not how my career has unfolded.

Instead, Las Vegas has provided an extraordinary window into the development of future stars.

Long before this city became a major professional sports destination, it was a gathering place for elite young athletes.

AAU basketball tournaments.

Seven-on-seven football championships.

Baseball showcases.

Summer League events.

National competitions that brought tomorrow's household names into our backyard before anyone knew what their futures would hold.

In 1995, I began following a young Kobe Bryant when he was still a junior in high school.

He wasn't yet the five-time NBA champion, global icon or basketball legend the world would come to know.

He was a teenager with remarkable ability, an uncommon competitive fire and the kind of presence that made you pay attention.

There have been others.

Young baseball players who eventually reached the major leagues and celebrated World Series championships.

Football players who would one day wear Super Bowl rings.

Basketball players whose names would become familiar far beyond the gyms where I first encountered them.

One of my favorite examples is Brock Purdy.

I covered him as a junior in high school, when he won the Pylon national 7-v-7 championship in Las Vegas.

There were more celebrated prospects.

Bigger names.

Players attracting more attention.

And there was Purdy, doing what he did best: competing, leading and winning.

I wrote about him for USA Today.

It was one tournament. One opportunity to tell the story of a young quarterback before his college career at Iowa State and long before he became the final selection of the 2022 NFL Draft.

Mr. Irrelevant.

Except, from what I witnessed that day, he was anything but irrelevant.

I didn't cover his college career game by game. I haven't followed him around the NFL.

But I got to see him before the rest of the world discovered him.

That's the beauty of this profession.

You don't always know when you're watching the beginning of greatness.

But occasionally, you get a feeling.

And when that feeling proves justified, there's a special satisfaction in knowing you were there.

A PROMISE, A CHAMPIONSHIP AND ANOTHER SPECIAL TALENT

More recently, I've experienced that feeling with UCLA's Kiki Rice.

When I interviewed Rice one-on-one as a freshman, she spoke about her dream of bringing a national championship to UCLA.

It wasn't simply something she hoped might happen.

She believed she could help accomplish it.

Years later, at the beginning of her senior season, we sat down again.

The circumstances had changed.

She had matured.

Her career had evolved.

But her conviction hadn't wavered.

She still believed in that championship.

And when UCLA finally reached the mountaintop, I thought about those conversations.

Not because I had anything to do with the achievement.

I didn't.

But because I was allowed a glimpse into the mind of a young athlete who set an extraordinary goal and refused to abandon it.

There is something incredibly rewarding about watching someone fulfill a promise they made to themselves years earlier.

And now, as I prepare to watch Watkins return, I find myself feeling something similar.

Not because their stories are identical.

They aren't.

But because both young women represent something I have come to appreciate more deeply with every passing year.

Greatness isn't defined by talent alone.

It's shaped by conviction, character, perseverance and the willingness to keep believing when circumstances become difficult.

THE MOMENT EVERYTHING CHANGED

For Watkins, that difficulty arrived on March 24, 2025.

During USC's second-round NCAA Tournament game against Mississippi State, she suffered a devastating knee injury that would change the course of her collegiate career.

A torn ACL.

A season-ending injury.

And eventually, an entire additional season spent away from the game she loves.

At the time, Watkins was one of the most electrifying players in college basketball.

She had averaged 23.9 points, 6.8 rebounds and 3.4 assists during her sophomore season.

She had become the fastest player in USC history to reach 1,000 career points.

She had earned national Player of the Year honors and established herself as one of the faces of women's college basketball.

Then, suddenly, basketball had to wait.

The highlights stopped.

The games continued without her.

And an athlete accustomed to determining outcomes with a basketball in her hands was forced to confront a challenge that couldn't be solved with another jump shot, another drive to the basket or another spectacular performance.

Rehabilitation.

Patience.

Uncertainty.

Trust.

For an athlete whose life has revolved around competition, those can be some of the most difficult opponents imaginable.

There is no scoreboard to tell you whether you're winning.

No roaring crowd to reward another small step forward.

No guarantee that everything will feel the same when you finally return.

But you can discover something about yourself that competition alone cannot always reveal.

And that's what makes Monday so meaningful.

THREE YEARS LATER, THE SAME BUILDING

During a recent interview ahead of her return to Las Vegas, Watkins reflected on the symmetry of beginning her collegiate career in this arena and returning for her senior season.

"To kind of put it into perspective, like you said, I started my career here and now senior year, being back in the same place," Watkins said. "Definitely, like you said, full circle."

Those words carry a different weight when you've been away from the game for so long.

Because the player who walked into T-Mobile Arena in November 2023 was a teenager carrying the expectations of a basketball program and a fan base eager to see what its prized recruit could accomplish.

The woman returning in November 2026 carries something else.

Experience.

Perspective.

The understanding that even extraordinary talent cannot protect someone from life's unexpected challenges.

And perhaps a deeper appreciation for something that once seemed so routine.

Simply being able to play.

That's what I want to see Monday.

Of course, I'll watch the basketball.

I'll pay attention to her movement, her explosiveness, her confidence and the way she interacts with her teammates.

I'll watch how USC incorporates her into a talented roster that learned to compete without her.

But I'll also watch the little things.

The first time she smiles after making a basket.

The first time she celebrates a teammate's success.

The first time she looks completely comfortable doing something she couldn't do for so many months.

Because sometimes the most important moments in sports never appear in a box score.

WHY THIS ONE MEANS SO MUCH

I genuinely believe JuJu Watkins has the potential to become one of the most special athletes professional sports has ever seen.

That's a significant statement.

I understand that.

After nearly four decades covering sports, I don't make it casually.

And I'm not suggesting her future is guaranteed, or that anyone should be expected to fulfill a prediction simply because others recognize extraordinary potential.

I've seen enough careers to understand how unpredictable sports can be.

But I've also been around enough exceptional athletes to recognize qualities that extend beyond physical ability.

Talent and specialness are different.

There's a difference between commanding attention and earning admiration.

And there's a difference between becoming famous and leaving a lasting impression on the people who encounter you.

What intrigues me about Watkins isn't merely how many points she can score.

It's the person she is becoming while navigating everything that comes with being JuJu Watkins.

The expectations.

The attention.

The responsibility.

And now, the adversity.

When I watched Kobe Bryant as a teenager, I couldn't possibly know everything that awaited him.

When I covered Brock Purdy in that Las Vegas tournament, I didn't know he would become an NFL quarterback.

When I interviewed Kiki Rice as a freshman, I couldn't know whether the championship she envisioned would become reality.

And when I covered Watkins' collegiate debut in 2023, I certainly couldn't have imagined that I would be returning to the same arena three years later to witness her comeback from such a devastating injury.

That's the thing about sports.

We spend so much time trying to predict what happens next that we sometimes forget to appreciate what's happening right in front of us.

On Monday, I intend to appreciate every bit of it.

Not just as a journalist.

But as someone who has spent 39 years being reminded why I fell in love with this profession.

THE PRIVILEGE OF BEING THERE

There are games you cover because they're assigned.

You cover some games because the stakes are enormous.

And there are games you cover because something inside tells you that you need to be there.

This is one of those games.

I was there when JuJu Watkins introduced herself to college basketball.

I'll be there when she returns.

Between those two moments are three years of growth, triumph, heartbreak and perseverance that no statistic can adequately measure.

I don't know how many points she'll score against UNLV.

I don't know whether she'll look like the same player who dazzled Ohio State in 2023.

And frankly, neither of those things will determine what Monday means to me.

Because this time, the significance isn't necessarily about what Watkins accomplishes.

It's about what she has already overcome to get back to the court.

For her, it's the opportunity to reclaim something she loves.

For USC, it's the return of a remarkable teammate and leader.

For women's basketball, it's the return of one of its brightest stars.

And for a sports journalist who has spent nearly four decades crossing paths with exceptional young athletes, it's another reminder of how fortunate I've been to witness pieces of their journeys.

I don't know where JuJu Watkins' story will ultimately lead.

But I believe we're watching someone whose impact could extend far beyond basketball.

And three years after watching her take that first extraordinary step, I feel blessed to be there for another.

Same city.

Same arena.

Same remarkable young woman.

A different journey.

And perhaps the most meaningful beginning of all.

Willie G. Ramirez
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