Taurasi filled arenas, hearts, and a trophy case
At 42, she leaves her sport in prosperous shape.
Diana Taurasi announced her retirement last weekend and, of course, did it the way no one else would. She said she was calling it a career, after 20 professional seasons, because she was “full.”
Full? Normally a 42-year-old athlete leaves because the tank is empty. Every point, every shot, every floor burn is strewn on hardwood across America and the world, bread crumbs for those who want to trace a career. No one has an unlimited supply. Yes, even LeBron James will discover that. But Taurasi didn’t talk about depletion. She said she was full, her hunger finally quelled.
It was the concept of nourishment, of using the game as her fuel, a parallel to the way she grew up, the daughter of an Argentinian machinist and former soccer player, and an Italian mother. The dinner table was their cathedral, their summit meeting, and Taurasi ate very well at their insistence. In fact, it wasn’t an easy thing when she told them she’d become a vegan. But Taurasi was an epicurean basketball player and personality. She gave as much to the game as she took, and the portions were immense.
It is difficult to refute the notion that Taurasi is the best American woman ever to play basketball. At least that’s what the hardware says. She won six Olympic gold medals, from Athens in 2004 to Paris in 2024, three WNBA championships for Phoenix, three NCAA championships for Connecticut, three WNBA playoff MVP awards, two Final Four MVP awards, six Euroleague championships, seven Russian league championships, five WNBA scoring titles, one WNBA Most Valuable Player, several French hens, turtledoves and partridges in a pear tree.
When Taurasi got to UConn, she asked coach Geno Auriemma if she could wear No. Zero. He said only jerks wear Zero. She asked if she could wear Double Zero and Auriemma said only assholes wear Double Zero. His plan was to give her No. 3. That was Babe Ruth’s number. Time and again, Auriemma would explain a close UConn victory by saying, “We’ve got Diana and you don’t.” So it wasn’t difficult for Taurasi to walk onto the court as if it were her personal property, and to shoo interlopers with spicy language. “Talking trash to Dee is a lose-lose,” Sue Bird would say.
In those days Tennessee was the most consistent rival. One night Taurasi led the Huskies to win in Knoxville, much to the displeasure of the audience. Asked about the fans’ booing, Taurasi replied, “Booing? I thought they were mooing.”
Few people, or things, have ever been able to silence Draymond Green of the Warriors. In 2016 the men’s and women’s Olympians were staying on the same cruise ship near Rio de Janeiro. Green was critiquing everyone and everything. Finally Taurasi got in a word. “Draymond, how does it feel to be the only person in this room who’s never been double-teamed?” she asked.
You don’t just develop such blessed assurance. Taurasi had it long before high school. Auriemma was sold when he came to California for a tournament and watched Taurasi hit three game-winning shots on the same day. At another summer league game, Taurasi was coming downcourt against a short clock and suddenly called out to opposing coach Richard Wiard, “Hey, Richie, watch this.” Then she swished one from half-court.
The California girl did not ease her big toes into UConn basketball, which was doing just fine without her. She chattered during practices and she competed to win every ping-pong or card game she could. On the bus one day she was blaring a song from OutKast, and some of the veterans finally threw her into the back bathroom and locked the door. But there was also the kindnesses, and the team-wide realization that she was almost immediately the best UConn player. The bond grew tighter every time the Husky players would come to practice and realize Taurasi had already been there for an hour.
When Dewanna Bonner was a Mercury rookie, she carried around an Auburn backpack. The other players had designer bags. Taurasi said she’d buy Bonner a fancy bag if Bonner came up with a double-double. Bonne did that in her opening game, and Taurasi took her to the Louis Vuitton store as soon as possible.
Her taste for the pivotal shot, and her willingness to accept the consequences of missing it, made her a crossover figure, a player whom Kobe Bryant nicknamed “White Mamba,” an insoluble problem for all challengers. In the 2003 NCAA semifinals she scored nine points in the last 11 minutes against Georgia, including an outside shot that gave UConn its first lead. For the Mercury, she hit a runner while getting fouled that clinched a five-point win over Chicago in the 2013 Finals. That particular skill never really faded. After her 40th birthday, Taurasi had 24 games of 20 or more points.
“Just seeing her transcend the game, watching little girls want to play like her, her style, her bravado, her swagger,” James said when he heard Taurasi was retiring. “It’s just been an unbelievable treat.”
Now the WNBA is adding franchises and practice facilities, and women’s college basketball is a staple of ESPN Sunday afternoons. South Carolina coach Dawn Staley, winner of three NCAA titles, signed a 5-year contract that will pay her $25.5 million. Caitlin Clark is the proximate cause of this explosion, but she needed inspiration, too, and it came from UConn’s Maya Moore and, before her, Taurasi.
Because she was born without a filter, Taurasi stirred up the Internet hornets when she was asked about Clark’s WNBA prospects. “Reality is coming,” he said. “She’ll be playing against the best players in the world.” She was dismissed by some as an aging hater, and, sure enough, Clark became quite comfortable among the pros after a couple of weeks. When her Indiana team came to Phoenix and helped fill the Suns’ arena, she scored 15 points with 12 assists and nine rebounds, and Indiana won. Taurasi was convinced. “It’s amazing what she’s been able to do so far,” she said. “Her future is super bright and, being in this league for a long, long time, it is pretty cool to see that and go into the future.”
That future includes quieter times with Taurasi’s spouse, Penny Taylor, and their 6-year-old son Leo and 3-year-old daughter Isla. Then again, Taurasi was always one of the best at creating space.