By Marissa Essenburg | Sports Writer
She’s not simply the Geno Auriemma or Nick Saban of acrobatics and tumbling. Felecia Mulkey exists in a category all her own: the architect of an entire sport, the only coach to ever win every national championship and perhaps the most decorated coach in collegiate athletics history.
But at Baylor, where 11 straight national titles have only strengthened her legend, the legacy of “Coach Fee” reaches far beyond the trophies.
It lives in what she’s built alongside that success. It lives in the way her athletes’ voices soften when they talk about her, in the deep respect that fills every corner of her program and in a culture that has never let winning strip away its heart. Mulkey’s dynasty may be measured in championships, but its heartbeat has always been people — the ones she pushes, protects and pours into every day.
“She’s an incredible human being,” redshirt sophomore base Leavy McDonald said. “She pushes us to become the best versions of ourselves, not just as athletes, but as people. I think that’s what makes her so special. She truly cares about her athletes and everyone around her, and I’m going to walk out of this program a much stronger woman than I was when I came in because of the culture she creates.”
A mother figure to dozens of student-athletes and a devoted dog mom to three dachshunds — Roxy G, Lily Bug and Felix — Mulkey takes the role of “mom” seriously, carrying it into every piece of who she is.
“My kids are 50 to 55 student-athletes and three wiener dogs at any given time,” Mulkey said. “Those are my children, and that’s how much I love them.”
The foundation of Baylor’s dynasty — and the relationships built within it — began long before the NCATA’s director of expansion and three-time Coach of the Year ever arrived in Waco.
Before the 11 straight titles, before the 62-meet win streak and before “Coach Fee” became synonymous with Baylor excellence, Mulkey helped turn an idea into reality.
At Oregon, she helped build A&T into the only collegiate sport besides football created at the college level, then spent the next decade and a half making sure no one set its standard higher than she did.
And for Mulkey, the sport’s next step is not about Baylor stepping aside. It is about everyone else rising high enough to meet it.
“Is it better for the sport if someone else wins? No,” Mulkey said. “If we want the sport to grow, the right team should win. If that team isn’t Baylor, I’m OK with that. But we can’t give out charity points or trophies. Is it better that Quinnipiac, Oregon and Iona have closed the gap? Yes, 100%. But is it better when someone else wins? Only if they deserve to win.”
Across stops at Oregon and Baylor, Mulkey has won all 15 national championships in the sport’s history, losing just four meets in her entire coaching career. But even numbers that great only tell part of the story, falling short of explaining what makes her so untouchable.
For senior base and tumbler Meredith Wells, who has never known a collegiate loss, it starts with trust.
“When she brings us in as freshmen, she always tells us exactly what to expect,” Wells said. “And I can say she stays true to her word through everything. She always does what’s best for Baylor whenever she puts skills or people out on the floor, and she’s one of my favorite people. I’m honored to be coached by her.”
Less than a week after closing the NCATA era with one final banner, Mulkey’s proudest moment wasn’t the score sheet, it was how her athletes responded when the moment asked everything of them.
Because championships, especially the kind tied to Baylor A&T’s pedigree, are never handed over. They’re built under pressure, and if pressure makes diamonds, Mulkey has spent her career making sure her teams are ready to shine under it.
“My team will never doubt or fear. They’re going to go into it head-on,” Mulkey said. “Going into the second half, I told them, ‘You’re going to have to take it. This isn’t going to be given to you.’ Before tumbling, I walked toward the huddle to check their mindset, and saw Payton Washington, Emily Bott and others stepping up. I turned to my staff and said, ‘They’re fine. We’re going to be OK.’ I can help get them to that headspace, but they have to be in it.”
And maybe that is what separates Mulkey most. Not just that she created a sport, or that she conquered it, but that she continues to demand greatness without ever losing sight of the people inside it.
At Baylor, that’s become her true legacy: a culture where excellence is expected, love is unwavering and championships are simply the byproduct of both.
“I can’t wait to look back and think, ‘Wow, I was part of a team — an athlete coached by the person who created this sport,’” McDonald said. “How cool is that?”
