“The Torch Is Passed”: Grant Hill Crowns Cooper Flagg as NBA’s Next Duke Superstar in Dallas When Duke speaks, the basketball world listens — and Grant Hill just made…

“The Torch Is Passed”: Grant Hill Crowns Cooper Flagg as NBA’s Next Duke Superstar in Dallas
When Duke speaks, the basketball world listens — and Grant Hill just made sure the next generation heard it loud and clear.
In the echoing halls of Dallas’ American Airlines Center, amidst the buzz of NBA Summer League matchups and rising-star storylines, a moment unfolded that felt less like an introduction and more like a coronation. Grant Hill — Hall of Famer, NBA All-Star, Olympic gold medalist, and one of Duke University’s most revered icons — walked across the hardwood not just to shake hands, not just to offer support, but to pass the symbolic torch. And the one waiting to receive it wasn’t just any young phenom. It was Cooper Flagg.
Still just a teenager, Flagg has not yet played a minute in the NBA. But already, he carries the weight of promise on his shoulders — a generational prospect, the kind of rare, preternaturally gifted talent who turns gym lights brighter and defenders slower. More than that, he represents the continuation of a lineage — Duke’s lineage — of players who didn’t just reach the league, but reshaped it.
And when Grant Hill embraced Flagg during a post-game moment that cameras were lucky enough to capture, it wasn’t just mentorship. It was endorsement. It was Hill — one of Duke’s all-time greats, and perhaps its most graceful ambassador — saying, without needing to say it: “This is the one.”
For those who’ve followed Duke basketball closely, the significance of that gesture can’t be overstated. Grant Hill’s connection to Duke runs deeper than accolades. He was the calm in the storm of the early ’90s Blue Devil dynasty — the third star in the trio with Christian Laettner and Bobby Hurley that delivered back-to-back national titles in 1991 and 1992. But he was also something more: the blueprint for the modern Duke superstar. Poised. Versatile. Dominant without arrogance. A player who could handle the spotlight with elegance and maturity beyond his years.
Cooper Flagg, by every indication, walks that same line.
Having reclassified to join the 2024-25 Duke squad early, Flagg skipped the traditional fanfare of waiting — opting instead to accelerate his path to college greatness. Standing 6-foot-9 with a wingspan that swallows passing lanes and a jump shot that’s grown as sharp as his competitive edge, he’s been hailed as the best high school prospect since LeBron James. That kind of hype can either build a career or crush it. But Flagg, by all accounts, isn’t just ready — he’s hungry.
The Dallas showcase wasn’t just a platform for Flagg to dazzle scouts and wow reporters. It was a stage to reveal just how prepared he already is. Matched up against older, more physically mature players, he didn’t blink. He battled on the boards, initiated offense from the perimeter, and barked out defensive rotations like a seasoned pro. More than the stats — which were impressive in their own right — it was his presence that turned heads. His motor never stops. His IQ is off the charts. He plays like someone who understands he’s not just trying to make it to the league — he’s trying to own it.
That’s what caught Hill’s attention. Watching from courtside, the man who once shared the floor with Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant saw something eerily familiar in Flagg’s command of the game: a rare combination of athleticism and restraint, fire and focus. When Hill approached Flagg after the final buzzer and pulled him in for a moment, it felt historic.
“He’s got it,” Hill reportedly said, later expanding to reporters that “Cooper doesn’t just want to be great — he wants to elevate the people around him. That’s Duke. That’s what we’re about.”
For Duke fans, those words resonate. The “Brotherhood,” as it’s now formally known, is more than a slogan. It’s a culture that Coach Mike Krzyzewski built and Jon Scheyer now protects — a culture of accountability, of excellence, of legacy. And when Grant Hill — one of the original architects of that culture — singles someone out, it matters.
It’s easy to see why Flagg fits that mold. Born and raised in Maine, far from the traditional basketball pipelines of Los Angeles, Chicago, or New York, Flagg’s rise has been meteoric. He led the USA U17 team to a gold medal, dominating on both ends of the court, and left no doubt that he was the alpha on a roster full of blue-chip talent. His high school seasons were filled with double-doubles, buzzer-beaters, and moments that felt pulled from a Hollywood script. Yet, despite the fame, he’s remained grounded. Humble. Focused. Traits that drew Coach K to his recruits for decades — and now draw praise from Hill.
Of course, comparisons to Duke greats will follow Flagg at every turn. Is he more like Hill, the do-it-all wing with silky athleticism? Is he a new-age Shane Battier, the high-IQ defender and glue guy with hidden scoring punch? Or could he be something else entirely — the hybrid of Kevin Durant’s offensive arsenal and Scottie Pippen’s defensive instincts? The truth is, Cooper Flagg doesn’t need to be anyone else. He just needs to be the best version of himself. And based on early returns, that version is terrifyingly good.
The NBA is watching. Already, front offices are strategizing how to position themselves for the 2025 draft, where Flagg is expected to go No. 1 overall barring something seismic. But before that, all eyes will turn to Durham, where Flagg will don Duke blue in Cameron Indoor Stadium, stepping into the historic lineage of players who’ve made that arena a crucible of champions. The pressure will be immense. The spotlight unforgiving. But if Dallas was any indication, Flagg isn’t just walking into that fire — he’s bringing his own.
In the modern era, where social media, NIL deals, and commercial partnerships shape the image of young athletes almost as much as their on-court play, Flagg also stands out for his clarity. He’s not interested in being a celebrity. He’s interested in being a basketball player — a great one. That kind of mentality is why Duke was the right choice, and why Hill’s public blessing matters so much. Because in Duke’s orbit, ego takes a back seat to impact.
Over the years, the program has seen dozens of one-and-done phenoms — from Kyrie Irving to Zion Williamson to Paolo Banchero — each with their own style, legacy, and trajectory. Flagg, while also expected to be one-and-done, carries a different aura. There’s a maturity in how he handles interviews. A calm in how he reads defenses. A leadership presence that speaks louder than any mixtape dunk. And now, with Hill’s words echoing, the narrative takes on a new dimension. He’s not just another star — he’s the next Duke superstar.
It’s rare for moments like this to be so clear. Often, the transition from college dominance to NBA relevance is messy, uncertain. But Hill’s recognition — quiet, heartfelt, and symbolic — felt like a bridge being built between two eras. From the early ’90s when Duke was still building its national identity, to now, when it’s the gold standard of player development, Flagg stands poised to carry that standard into a new generation.
There will be challenges. Duke’s schedule will be brutal. Opponents will come for Flagg every night, seeking to test his resolve and his hype. The media will swirl. Expectations will soar. But for a player who seems to thrive under pressure and elevate in the biggest moments, it all feels less like an obstacle and more like opportunity.
And when the time comes — whether it’s a cold night in Chapel Hill or the bright lights of March Madness — Flagg will be ready. Because that’s what the Brotherhood does. It prepares you. It shapes you. It hands you the torch — and expects you to light the path forward.
So when Grant Hill stood across from Cooper Flagg in Dallas and made that simple gesture, it wasn’t performative. It was meaningful. A chapter closing, another one beginning. A new king waiting in the wings, and an old one giving his blessing.
The message was unmistakable. The torch is passed.