When the Spotlight Shifts, So Does the Criticism

I’ve been watching everybody, and I really mean that. Not just USC, not just the Big Ten, not just the games that affect our standings. I’m talking SEC games, ACC games, Big 12 games — flipping channels, checking scores, watching ranked teams lose, watching road teams struggle, watching conference play do exactly what conference play has always done: expose you, humble you, and force you to grow. And everywhere I look, I see the same thing: good teams losing, good teams grinding, good teams having ugly nights. But the conversations around those losses do not sound the same when it’s USC.

When an ACC team drops a conference game, it’s “that league is brutal.” When an SEC team gets caught on the wrong night, it’s “that’s how conference play goes.” When a Big 12 team slips up, it’s “that conference is just tough.” Sometimes it’s the refs, sometimes it’s travel, sometimes it’s short rest, sometimes it’s back-to-back ranked opponents. There’s always context. There’s always explanation. There’s always some level of patience built into the conversation. But when USC loses, the conversation shifts fast, and it doesn’t shift to basketball. Now it’s not about matchups, it’s not about fatigue, it’s not about rotations, it’s not about injuries, it’s not about roster balance or frontcourt depth or how certain lineups function late in games. It’s about whether the coach can coach, whether the team is real, whether the whole thing was hype all along. And that’s where I start asking myself… why?

Because what’s actually happening on the court does not match the way people are talking about this team. Let’s talk about these USC losses for a second, especially the ones that happened without Kennedy Smith. USC lost to Minnesota, Maryland, and Oregon — all by single digits. Not blowouts. Not games where they looked lost. Not games where they didn’t compete. Games that came down to late possessions, late stops, late shots. That does not look like a team that “can’t coach.” That looks like a team that is well prepared, organized, connected, and still dangerous, even when missing one of its most important two-way players. Teams that aren’t coached well don’t stay in games when they’re short-handed. They fold, they unravel, they get blown out. That didn’t happen.

And let’s be very clear about something else that keeps getting ignored. The only real blowout losses USC has had this season were to UCLA at UCLA and to South Carolina early in the year. Two elite teams, one on the road in a rivalry environment, and one before this group was fully settled. early in the season. USC has not been out here losing by 20 or 30 points to teams they should beat. They have not been getting run off the floor by mid-conference opponents. They have been in every single one of these games, even while missing Kennedy, even while dealing with matchup disadvantages, even while adjusting rotations. That is not what poorly coached teams look like. Period. Point blank. You can say a lot of things about this group, but you cannot say they are unprepared or not coached well.

And part of what never seems to get discussed is team dynamics. USC is a guard-heavy team. They rely on pressure, pace, and perimeter creation. They do not have overwhelming size across the frontcourt like some Big Ten teams do, and that matters in conference play. That matters in certain matchups. That matters late in games on the road. And then you remove Kennedy, who stabilizes both ends of the floor, who helps organize defensively, who helps close offensively, and suddenly rotations tighten, matchups get tougher, and late-game execution becomes even harder. That’s basketball. That’s roster math. That’s not character failure. But unfortunately, that’s not where the conversation goes.

Then I look at other conferences, and the energy is completely different. Let’s talk about Iowa State. All season long, people have been hyping Iowa State, and for good reason. Audi Crooks is a dominant offensive presence. She’s a matchup nightmare. She forces double teams and changes scouting reports every single night. But Iowa State has now dropped multiple games in conference play, and they just lost to Oklahoma State by twenty-eight points. Twenty-eight. And yes, people mention defensive limitations. Yes, analysts talk about teams attacking certain matchups. But nobody is dragging that program the way USC gets dragged. Nobody is turning a conference slide into a referendum on whether the coach can coach. Nobody is acting like the entire rebuild was fake. It’s framed as — Big 12 play is tough, teams adjust, you grow through it. lol!

Then this past Sunday, I watched Ole Miss, a 16th ranked team, lose 82–59 to a Georgia team that was 1–3 in conference. That’s a 23-point loss in league play. And what makes that even more interesting is that earlier in the week there had been conversation about rankings and whether that team should be placed higher based on résumé and schedule, which honestly I don’t even think is wrong. Teams should advocate for themselves. Coaches should stand up for their players. But when that loss happened, for the most part, there was no narrative meltdown, no coach-bashing, no questioning of culture, no questioning of legitimacy. It was just conference basketball, a bad night in a tough gym, in a tough league.

And that’s when we have to talk about the Big Ten, because I don’t care what anybody says, top to bottom, the Big Ten is the deepest and most unforgiving conference in women’s basketball right now. There are no nights off. There are no easy road games. There are no guaranteed wins. You are dealing with physicality, size, elite guard play, scouting, and wildly different styles every single night, and teams are beating up on each other because the middle of the league is strong, not weak. So when USC is battling in that environment without a key starter and losing by one possession to good teams, and people are acting like that’s proof of failure, that’s not honest basketball evaluation.

And then, just to really put it into perspective, what happens when Kennedy comes back? USC comes out and pounds Purdue. Not survives. Not barely wins. Pounds them. So now what are we saying — that the team magically learned how to play overnight, that the coaching staff suddenly figured it out in one practice? Or are we just acknowledging something basic about basketball, that getting an important piece back stabilizes rotations, improves defense, helps late-game execution, and raises your floor? Because that’s not mystery. That’s basketball.

And this is where the psychology really comes in, because this isn’t just about USC winning games. It’s about who USC is in the ecosystem of women’s basketball right now. For a long time, USC wasn’t part of the automatic “in crowd” at the top of the sport. The upper echelon felt familiar. Same conferences, same programs, same expectations about who belongs and who’s just passing through. So when USC comes back into this conversation and doesn’t just participate but actually starts threatening space at the top, that messes with people’s comfort levels. It messes with the mental hierarchy of the sport. It messes with who people are used to centering, praising, and protecting. And when that happens, the reaction isn’t always excitement. Sometimes it’s resistance.

And it doesn’t just mess with comfort, it messes with recruiting too. Because now, some of those same programs that were used to getting the top kids automatically aren’t getting them anymore. Elite players are choosing from more options now, and USC is one of the schools winning those battles. We’re talking about USC landing top-tier talent year after year — JuJu Watkins, Jazzy Davidson, Sania Hall, the top overseas recruit in Sataya Fagan, Kennedy Smith as a top-ten national recruit, multiple No. 1 recruiting classes over the last few cycles, including the class with Hall and Fagan and the earlier class that brought in Kailey Heckel and company. That’s not accidental. That’s pipeline-changing.

And when pipelines change, emotions change. Because now it’s not just about USC winning games, it’s about USC interrupting expectations, interrupting who gets first pick, interrupting who people assume will own the future of the sport. And when that happens, criticism stops being neutral and starts being emotional, because now it’s tied to fear — fear of losing ground, fear of losing prestige, fear of losing control over what the next few years of women’s basketball are supposed to look like. That’s when losses stop being basketball and start being confirmation. That’s when people aren’t just analyzing games, they’re waiting for proof that the old order should stay intact, waiting for the stumble so they can say, “See? This is why they don’t really belong here.” And that’s not about scouting reports. That’s about discomfort with change.

And what gets lost in all of this is the human part. These are still young women competing their tails off, still fighting through adversity, still adjusting to injuries, still in tight games against quality opponents, still very much in the tournament picture. But the way people talk about them online, you’d think they were quitting or disorganized or completely out of their depth, and that’s just not what the film shows. There’s a difference between saying, “USC has things to clean up,” and saying, “USC can’t coach and doesn’t belong.” Every team in the country has flaws. Every team in the country has bad nights. Every team in the country drops games they wish they had back. But only certain programs get treated like their entire identity collapses when it happens, and right now, USC is one of them.

So yeah, maybe I do look at USC differently. I care. I’m invested. I watch closely. But I also watch everybody else. And when I see ranked teams getting blown out, when I see conference records getting messy across every league, when I see schedule stretches used as context for some teams but not others, and then I see USC getting singled out for close losses without a key starter, that’s not objective analysis anymore. That’s narrative. And narratives don’t always tell the truth about what’s actually happening on the floor.

USC is not perfect. USC is not finished. USC is not fraudulent. They are a good team navigating the toughest conference grind in the country, just like everybody else. The difference is, some teams are allowed to struggle, and some teams are treated like they’re not supposed to. And honestly, I think part of why people don’t want to admit how well coached this team actually is, is because they still need a way to tear it down while it’s changing the ecosystem. And I’m not mad at that — I actually kind of love it, because it tells me we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.

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Beth Burns: The Engine Behind the Edge at USC