You can see the confidence. One season after winning the NCAA Championship and being named the tournament’s Most Outstanding Player, the guard is averaging career highs in nearly every statistical category. Off the field, his megawatt smile and breezy personality captivate his more than 1 million social media followers. The combination of its chronic TikTok presence and near-perfect gameplay has helped its rapid rise in popularity.
It was easy to spot when I attended a game against the USC Trojans in Los Angeles last December. Thousands showed up to cheer on UConn, a school nearly 3,000 miles away. Fans wearing Fudd number 35 jerseys flooded the packed arena. Young girls dotted the tunnel for a photo, a look or a glance from Fudd. When the guard’s name was announced during the kickoffs, he got the loudest roar. Even the USC supervisor in Section 119 couldn’t hold back his glee when Fudd drained a 3-pointer. He clapped and shouted: “Let’s go, Azzi!”.
After the game, the screaming crowd — some even matching Fudd’s signature double-crowned hairstyle — clung to awestruck posters and waited excitedly by the UConn team bus. I mean, he is there is after all the people’s princess (the nickname was started by close friend and former teammate Paige Bueckers because the coach rarely yelled at Fudd). You can now buy Fudd’s goods with the slogan flashed on it.
“It’s surreal to think that I’m actually living my dreams,” she says. “And it’s all because of a sport. It’s all because I like to put a ball in the basket.”
“His experience was very different than mine,” says Azzi’s mother, Katie Fudd. Katie played college basketball at NC State and Georgetown, and was later drafted into the WNBA, but at the time schools were only concerned with their men’s programs, she says. that’s right.”
Pipenco jacket and skirt. Stylist’s own pantyhose. Louboutin shoes.
