Former Dallas Mavericks head coach Avery Johnson sparked a firestorm of debate in basketball circles recently when he made a jaw-dropping statement during a panel appearance, saying he would take 17-year-old high school phenom Cooper Flagg over Dallas Mavericks superstar Luka Dončić. Johnson’s quote—“Give me Cooper Flagg”—immediately ignited discussions across social media, podcasts, and television programs. The comment wasn’t just bold; it was viewed by many as borderline blasphemous given Dončić’s generational talent and proven NBA résumé. But digging deeper, Johnson’s comments reflect a growing trend in basketball discourse where potential, hype, and long-term vision are weighed heavily against current greatness. Whether Johnson’s statement was made in earnest, as a hypothetical exercise, or simply to stir conversation, it has already made waves that are forcing fans and analysts alike to reassess how we measure stardom, ceiling, and value in the modern game.
To appreciate the weight of Johnson’s declaration, one must first understand the players involved. Luka Dončić is arguably the most skilled and versatile offensive player in the world. Since entering the NBA in 2018, he has compiled historic numbers while leading his teams deep into the playoffs. This past season, he carried the Dallas Mavericks to the NBA Finals, earning MVP runner-up honors and setting records along the way. Dončić’s blend of size, basketball IQ, shooting, passing, and clutch scoring make him a walking triple-double threat and one of the most unguardable players in the league. He is 25 years old and just now entering his prime. His résumé includes multiple All-NBA First Team selections, an All-Star MVP, and one of the most impressive playoff performances by a young player in league history. For most NBA minds, Dončić is untouchable in trade discussions, let alone when comparing him to a teenager yet to play a single minute of college basketball.
Then there’s Cooper Flagg. The 6-foot-9 forward from Maine has been on NBA radars since middle school. After a dominant high school and AAU career, Flagg became the consensus No. 1 overall player in the class of 2024. His combination of athleticism, length, skill, and competitive edge has drawn comparisons to Kevin Durant, Jayson Tatum, and even a young LeBron James. Committed to Duke University, Flagg is widely expected to be the No. 1 pick in the 2025 NBA Draft, and scouts are already salivating over his potential as a two-way force who can anchor a defense while serving as a primary scorer on offense. Flagg’s basketball instincts are exceptional for his age, and his ability to adapt to higher levels of play at each stage has made even skeptical analysts take notice. His performances at elite camps, Team USA events, and prep school showcases have elevated him to a level of hype rarely seen outside of players like Zion Williamson and Victor Wembanyama.
So why would Avery Johnson, a respected voice in basketball with decades of experience as both a player and coach, risk ridicule by suggesting he’d prefer an unproven high schooler over a top-five player in the world? Johnson’s perspective may lie in more than just the X’s and O’s. It could represent a philosophy—an eye on the future rather than the present. For all of Dončić’s brilliance, there are lingering questions about his long-term durability, his usage-heavy playstyle, and whether he can elevate others consistently enough to win multiple championships. Dončić has had moments where his conditioning was in question, and he hasn’t always meshed perfectly with teammates. Though these criticisms are arguably nitpicking, in a league where margins between elite and legendary are razor thin, these questions matter.
Flagg, on the other hand, is still a blank slate—a canvas upon which NBA general managers and coaches can paint their ideal superstar. His youth, elite defensive upside, and apparent coachability make him the type of player organizations dream about building around. In today’s NBA, which prioritizes switchable defenders, positionless offense, and team-first mentality, Flagg checks every box. Johnson may see in Flagg what Dončić will never be: a true two-way cornerstone with elite mobility, rim protection, and a growing perimeter game. Flagg’s projected trajectory puts him in a category of players who could dominate both ends of the floor, perhaps reminiscent of a modern-day Tim Duncan or Kawhi Leonard in terms of system compatibility and leadership style.
There’s also the business side of basketball. The NBA is as much about marketing and branding as it is about wins and losses. Cooper Flagg, with his clean-cut image, highlight-reel athleticism, and appealing underdog narrative from small-town Maine to global stardom, presents an incredible marketing opportunity. For a franchise in rebuild mode, drafting Flagg would generate instant buzz, ticket sales, and media coverage. In contrast, while Dončić is already a superstar, some believe his media persona hasn’t reached the global stratosphere occupied by players like Steph Curry or LeBron James, at least in terms of mass-market crossover appeal. That perception may or may not be fair, but it’s part of the calculus when teams project future value.
But Johnson’s statement isn’t just about potential or even playstyle—it’s about control. Luka Dončić is already a made man in the NBA. He commands the ball, dictates pace, and often controls an entire offensive system. That works when you’re elite, but it also limits how much influence a coach can have. For a head coach like Johnson, who values structure, discipline, and system-oriented basketball, the appeal of molding a young prospect like Flagg from day one is understandable. It’s the classic debate between inheriting a superstar who runs the show versus developing a player who can grow within a coach’s vision.
Still, Johnson’s comment didn’t come without backlash. Critics were quick to label the take as outrageous, with some calling it clickbait and others questioning Johnson’s basketball acumen. After all, Flagg has not played a single collegiate game, while Dončić is a perennial MVP candidate with clutch playoff performances. How can one reasonably compare a player with zero professional experience to someone who just went toe-to-toe with the Boston Celtics in the NBA Finals and emerged with his reputation intact, if not enhanced?
Yet history shows us that the NBA is filled with bold decisions that once seemed unthinkable. There were those who questioned drafting Kobe Bryant out of high school. People laughed when the Spurs built around a quiet big man from Wake Forest. Nobody knew what Giannis Antetokounmpo would become. Teams that hesitated on young talent out of fear often paid the price down the road. The league rewards bold thinking—sometimes foolish, sometimes visionary. Avery Johnson may be ahead of the curve or he may have jumped the gun entirely. Time will tell.
There’s also the cultural moment to consider. Cooper Flagg represents a new generation of basketball. He grew up studying film, training with NBA-level specialists, and competing in national showcases before his junior year of high school. He’s fluent in the language of modern basketball, understands advanced analytics, and is entering the college game with an understanding of NIL deals, personal branding, and media relations that far surpasses what rookies were exposed to just a decade ago. Dončić, though still young, comes from a different era—an older soul in a new league. The contrast between the two players is symbolic of the ongoing generational shift in the NBA, where upside, adaptability, and social savvy carry increasing weight.
Ultimately, the Johnson-Flagg-Dončić debate raises larger questions about how we define greatness. Is it what a player has already accomplished, or what they might still become? Are proven skills and production more valuable than limitless potential and room to grow? Should front offices bet on the sure thing or gamble on the next big thing? These are not new questions, but they’re more pressing than ever in a league obsessed with the future.
Avery Johnson’s words may sound extreme in the present moment, but they force us to think beyond the highlight reels and stat sheets. They challenge fans, media, and executives to confront uncomfortable truths about bias, projection, and the allure of the unknown. Whether you agree or disagree, one thing is clear: Cooper Flagg has already arrived in the consciousness of the NBA, and comparisons to the game’s biggest names are no longer premature—they’re inevitable.
“Give me Cooper Flagg.” A simple sentence. Maybe it was just a hot take. Maybe it was a message to young players about believing in their potential. Maybe it was a spark thrown into the powder keg of NBA speculation culture. But whatever it was, it did what few comments can—it made the basketball world stop and think. And that, in a world of endless takes, is perhaps the boldest move of all.
