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PHOENIX � Under the bright lights of the 2025 Celsius Women’s 3-Point Championship in San Antonio, with cameras rolling and pressure building, Alyssa Durazo-Frescas didn’t flinch. She stepped to the arc, zone-locked and calm, and started draining shot after shot like it was just another day in Grand Canyon University’s Global Credit Union Arena, where the 5-foot-7 guard had owned the perimeter last season during the Lopes� exhilarating run.

“When the ball goes up in the air, everything goes away,� Durazo-Frescas said. “It’s just like I don’t hear anything. All I hear is that ball bouncing on the ground, and that’s it. I don’t hear the crowd.�

But when the final ball swished through the net on this day in April, the San Antonio crowd erupted � and this time, Durazo-Frescas couldn’t hold back a smile.

It was a moment of pure joy, the visible release of years of hard work, persistence and belief. Her expression said it all: This is what she had worked for. She was ready for this.

The trophy was handed to her, cameras flashed and reporters swarmed. But in the sea of noise and celebration, Durazo-Frescas’s eyes searched the crowd until they landed on one face: her mom’s.

The camera panned over to Monica Durazo, jumping up and down and cheering with tears in her eyes. In that moment, all the early morning workouts, all the extra reps and all the quiet sacrifices melted into something loud and undeniable.

“It felt indescribable watching her,� Monica said with pride swelling in her voice. “It was everything I knew she was capable of so it wasn’t like a surprise to me.�

To some, it might have seemed like Durazo-Frescas � who recently completed her final season with GCU and is exploring professional playing opportunities overseas � burst onto the scene out of nowhere during the State Farm College Slam Dunk & 3-Point Championships during April’s Final Four festivities. She was a breakout star in her final season finishing as the country’s leader in 3-pointers � but the truth is, those people simply weren’t paying attention.

This moment was decades in the making, built on a lifetime of hard-earned success, quiet accolades and an unwavering commitment to the game she has loved since she was a little girl.

An early passion

Even before Durazo-Frescas knew what basketball would become in her life, the spark was already there � undeniable and uncoached.

“I think she must have been 6 when my mom, who was a big help in my life, got her enrolled in a little Junior Basketball League,� Durazo said. “And I’ll never forget it. It was how I knew basketball was her thing.

“They asked her to do a layup, and at 7 years old, she does like a perfect layup. I had never taught her it. I don’t know where she learned it, and they were very impressed with her. Just to have that natural ability to even know what a layup was. And to this day, she doesn’t know where she learned it.�

Durazo-Frescas� basketball story first began in the gym near her Santa Ana, Calif., home, where she spent hours as a little girl, launching shot after shot under the watchful eye of her mom, who never missed a game, a milestone or a chance to remind her daughter of her strength.

Durazo-Frescas has always been known for her poise, her strength and her quiet resilience on the court � but those traits were forged long before she ever picked up a basketball. They were born in the earliest days of her life, in the arms of a young mother who was still learning what it meant to raise a child while navigating the uncertain terrain of adulthood herself.

“I was 19 when I found out I was pregnant,� Monica said. “At that time, I had never even held a baby. I didn’t know anything about being a mother.�

What followed was a whirlwind � marriage at eight months pregnant, her 20th birthday spent carrying new life, and just weeks after Durazo-Frescas was born, her father was deployed to Iraq in the wake of 9/11.

Suddenly, motherhood wasn’t just about diapers and lullabies. It became about holding steady through late-night feedings and long-distance fears, anchoring her daughter through the silence of absence and the weight of responsibility.

Durazo-Frescas� early years were shaped by that strength. Her mom � young, determined and alone � raised her with fierce love and a deep sense of purpose.

After her marriage ended, Monica and 2-year-old Durazo-Frescas moved to California after living in Arizona, and from that moment on, it was just the two of them.

“We kind of forged our own path from that point forward,� Monica said. Their lives became deeply intertwined, a team built not by circumstance but by unshakable love.

Through every move, every challenge, every win and loss � on and off the court � they leaned on each other.

“We’re always together,� Durazo-Frescas said. “I have always just idolized her and seeing how hard she worked, and seeing her kind of play the roles of both mom and dad, it shaped me to who I am today. It made me realize that I can do life on my own.

“She shaped me into a young woman who is strong on and off the court. She shaped me to be confident, and to never put my head down. I wouldn’t want to grow up any other way. I was happy to grow up with my best friend � she has just been my best friend my whole life.�

And that closeness would become the foundation for Durazo-Frescas� drive, focus and unrelenting work ethic.

“We traveled everywhere together, and I was at every game,� Monica said. “I vowed that I would never miss a game if I could help it. And I think to this day, I can probably count on one hand how many games I’ve missed.�

That early foundation � the strength, sacrifice and selflessness Durazo-Frescas witnessed firsthand � became the heartbeat of her work ethic. She grew up watching her mom hustle through long days and late nights, never complaining, always pushing forward.

“Everything we did, every decision we made, was based around a training schedule or practice,� Monica said. Long before Durazo-Frescas could drive, Monica would leave for work before dawn just to make it home in time to turn around, drive 20 miles to pick her up, and another 20 to get her to training � running on empty, in every sense of the word.

Some days, there was barely enough gas in the tank or money in the bank account, but giving up was never an option.

“‘There are no excuses. There are no setbacks. You just have to do this,’� Monica would say to her daughter. “And we were so focused. It was that level of discipline.�

Pushing forward

Summers were even more intense. Durazo-Frescas would spend eight-hour days training with one coach after another, while her mom, who works in technology sales, worked remotely in the background � on her laptop in the corner of gyms, in the backseat of cars and on the sidelines of beach workouts.

Wherever Durazo-Frescas needed to be, her mom was there too, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually as her constant source of strength.

“It sounds so intense, but it was so much fun,� Monica said with a laugh. “Our journey was filled with laughter our entire lives. We just laughed. We laughed at everything. We laughed all the time.

“We used to always notice things at games or about coaches or other parents, and we could just look at one another and be able to communicate what we were thinking. And we’d always have this thing just wait till you get in the car. That is our safe space. We are alone, and we can say anything and everything we want.�

Durazo-Frescas� motivation didn’t come from a scoreboard or stat sheet � it came from the example set right in front of her.

Her mom never shot a basketball, never ran drills and freely admits she is “the worst basketball player in human history.� But she refused to ask Durazo-Frescas to give her all to something unless she was willing to do the same.

So, while Durazo-Frescas trained before sunrise, her mom laced up running shoes in the dark, pounding out mile after mile in quiet solidarity. “I remember thinking, how can I ask her to train at six in the morning while I sit inside drinking coffee? That didn’t feel fair,� she said.

Monica trained � and completed � for the New York and Los Angeles marathons, not for accolades, but as a way to show her daughter what commitment looks like in action. It wasn’t about basketball but grit, rising early, pushing through pain and never letting up � values that became part of Durazo-Frescas� DNA.

By the time Durazo-Frescas was waking up at 5:30 a.m. for training, it didn’t feel extreme. It felt normal. Because in their world, hard work wasn’t optional � it was just what they did.

Whether it was waking before sunrise for extra shooting reps or pushing through grueling workouts when no one was watching, Durazo-Frescas carried that same grit her mom had shown her.

“My mom, I mean, she’s my rock,� Durazo-Frescas said. “I mean, she stayed disciplined. She got up early and showed me how hard she can work, and she was really just a role model for me, and she kept me focused. She kept me disciplined. You know, I was obviously a teenager once, I was not the smartest teenager and she would check me. She is just sent from heaven. I mean, she’s the best mother ever. And I wouldn’t be where I am without her.�

That love, that fire, came to full bloom during the Lopes� 2024-25 season when Durazo-Frescas transferred to Grand Canyon University for her final year of eligibility after playing at UNLV for three years.

A new path

It was a risk � new system, new teammates, one shot to make it count. Yet under coach Molly Miller, Durazo-Frescas thrived.

“She completely blew me away with how much she wanted to get in the gym,� said Miller, who is now Arizona State’s women’s basketball coach after steering the Lopes to a 117-38 record over five seasons. “It was just really impressive to see her work ethic, and that kind of trickled down to other players. I think that made us a lot better as a team, too, this season.�

And what a season it was.

Durazo-Frescas finished as the nation’s top 3-point shooter across all of NCAA Division I women’s basketball and second in 3-point percentage (.476). Game after game, as GCU went on a 32-3 rampage before losing in the first round of the NCAA tournament, she lit up the scoreboard with her precision and calm under pressure, averaging 14.6 points per game. But behind the stats were the quiet moments � arriving early to shoot, staying late to lift, always chasing that edge.

“I told her to get out of the gym sometimes, which was very unique,� Miller said with a laugh. “I don’t have to tell a lot of players to get out of the gym. I always say, it’s easier to say whoa than giddy up. 
And I had to tell her whoa a few times and made her take some day offs, and she would roll her eyes at me, and she probably honestly snuck into the gym when I told her to take the day off, which, you know, you can’t be mad at, but she was the one that ‘no days off� was definitely a key phrase for her.�

Durazo-Frescas� relentless drive was fueled by the people around her, a constant source of inspiration throughout her journey.

For so long, it had just been the two of them � Durazo-Frescas and her mom � fighting for every opportunity, fueling every dream. But when Durazo-Frescas arrived at GCU, that support system multiplied. What began as a mother’s unwavering devotion expanded into an entire community of people who believed in her just as fiercely.

�(Miller) cares for all of her players, her own kids� it just feels like a mom outside of my mom,� Durazo-Frescas said. “I had family outside of my family that I really could trust, and that they were going to take care of me no matter what.�

That trust didn’t end when the season ended. Even after graduation and Miller’s departure to Arizona State, Durazo-Frescas still visits the ASU campus to work out or even talk, seeing Miller almost every day.

“It’s just a nice feeling to have a coach that cares more than just about the game,� Durazo-Frescas said. “She cares about her players, she cares about relationships, she cares about mental health � and she also cares about basketball. That’s very rare to find in a coach. I’ve been forever grateful that I got to play for her.�

A story of determination

While Durazo-Frescas credits everything to those around her; her mom, her family, Miller, her teammates, associate head coach Jason Glover and the whole GCU staff, they know it is Durazo-Frescas who has given everything to be where she is now.

“I’m so proud I can’t say enough, like, I’m so proud of her,� Miller said. “I can’t say enough good things. But as much as I’d love to take some credit for what she’s done, that’s all Alyssa. It’s all her and her mentality and her approach to the whole year.�

What made Durazo-Frescas� success even more impressive was the grace with which she carried herself. There was never arrogance � just purpose. Never entitlement � just gratitude.

That selflessness extended beyond her work ethic and into the heart of her team. Miller recalled one post-practice huddle where players were asked to reflect on their “why.� When it was Durazo-Frescas� turn, she didn’t talk about stats or accolades � she talked about her teammates.

“When we got to Alyssa, she said, ‘I’ve won a ring (at UNLV), I’ve cut down nets, but I want you all, my teammates, to experience that,’� Miller said. “And someone was like, ‘Oh, my God, what a great teammate, right?� And so when she said that, I think that showed a lot about her character and why she wanted this to be special.�

What started as a quiet hope in a post-practice huddle became a dream realized on the court.

The 2024-25 season was nothing short of historic for the GCU women’s basketball team. The Lopes finished with a 32-3 overall record, including a 16-0 run through Western Athletic Conference play. They claimed both the regular season and tournament championships, earning their first-ever NCAA Division I Tournament appearance.

What Durazo-Frescas had hoped for in that huddle � cutting down nets with her teammates and sharing that once-in-a-lifetime feeling � became a reality. GCU lost to Baylor in the opening round, but by then, the moment had already been won.

That moment in the huddle was a window into who Durazo-Frescas truly is. A leader by example, she didn’t need to shout to be heard or demand attention to be respected. Her selflessness spoke volumes.

“It inspired me to be the best version of myself,� Miller said, “I saw what she was willing to do and sacrifice and pour in for the greater good of the team. So I’m like, if one of my players is showing me what it looks like, I have to do that, you know, twofold. And I think that’s something that she can always know � that she inspired me to be a better coach for her because of what she brought and what she gave me in terms of just being this amazing player to coach.�

That kind of mutual respect speaks to the legacy Durazo-Frescas leaves behind.

“I think the most rewarding part of being Alyssa’s mom is just seeing that she is, she is such a remarkable human being,� Monica said. “It’s not just that she’s a good athlete, that she specializes in 3-point shots. She is a better human being than I have ever been or will ever be. She treats other people better than she treats herself. She is also good to herself. She loves God.

“Who she is so much bigger and better than the athlete she is, and I think that just comes from her having just the best heart I’ve ever known.�

That heart � and that humility � will carry Durazo-Frescas into whatever comes next.

Her time at GCU may be over, but her journey in basketball is far from finished. At 5-feet-7, Durazo-Frescas is considered undersized by WNBA scouts, but after building a legacy rooted in hard work, faith and selflessness, she is preparing to take the next leap and is exploring opportunities to begin her professional career overseas.

“This game was my whole life,� Durazo-Frescas said. “Now growing up seeing all the other things I could do, I’m excited to grow up. I am going to play overseas for a little bit. I owe it to the little girl in me and my mom to play pro basketball for a little bit. So I’m excited to, like, grow up. And I think college has taught me that there’s more to life than just my sport. And I’m still worthy without my sport.�

Whether it’s in the WAC, on a national platform, or on international soil, Durazo-Frescas continues to show the world that who she is off the court is every bit as powerful as what she brings to it.