Asia Durr isn’t blinking. Her No. 9 Louisville Cardinals are facing No. 5 Ohio State. Durr’s brown eyes are frozen, teeth clenched. She doesn’t see anyone. Doesn’t hear anything. In this moment, on this hardwood at Nationwide Arena in Columbus, someone is going to suffer. Scratch that. With the ball in her possession and 30 seconds to strike, an entire team will.
Durr jabs hard to the left, then crosses to the right—too quick, too slick—and her defender inevitably bites. Durr pops a step-back three, leaning like she knows it’s good. Of course it is. It’s only the first quarter, but she’s got that look in her eye.
Terry Durr, Asia’s father, who is seated directly across from the Louisville bench, recognizes that look immediately.
“She’s ready to destroy someone,” Terry says of his daughter.
In this moment, she’s someone else. The woman obsessed with SpongeBob SquarePants who taught her poodle, Precious, to howl when the theme song comes on, who loves haunted houses and horror movies but gets so scared she has to sleep with the lights on for the next few days—that girl takes on a different personality.
“I call her the Baby-Faced Killa,” says DeQuan Jones, a friend who plays for the Fort Wayne Mad Ants of the NBA G League. “She looks so innocent, but when she steps on the court, she literally will attack you.”
No one’s safe. When she was the nation’s No. 1 recruit at Atlanta’s St. Pius X Catholic High, Durr dropped 44 against Jonesboro (Jonesboro, GA) and 49 against Redan (Stone Mountain, GA). With 45 seconds remaining against Redan, she spun past one defender in the backcourt and two more at midcourt before going behind the back of another at the elbow, sinking the and-1 layup despite getting smacked inside. During her second meeting with Redan, she dropped 53.
“Just cold-blooded,” says Kyle Snipes, St. Pius’ head coach. “No regard for human life.”