My concern is simple: the Mavericks are not doing right by Cooper Flagg.
For a generational rookie, the ping pong ball could’ve bounced anywhere — maybe to Washington, where Flagg would’ve missed shots, lost games, but played freely in his role and grown through reps. Instead, he lands in Dallas — a franchise that went to the Finals in 2024, then detonated its core on that fateful February night.
What did landing in Dallas mean on paper? Opportunity. Veteran support. Playoff potential.
In reality? A quicksand trap disguised as forced development.
Jason Kidd didn’t slide Cooper into a natural forward slot. He hasn’t protected him with spacing or ball-handling support. No — he started him at point guard, essentially handing an 18-year-old slasher the keys to a brick-heavy, sans-Kyrie offense with no navigation system. The very things Flagg needs to thrive are the ones he’s being asked to create. This isn’t just tough-love sink or swim — it’s lifeguard malpractice.
As Rusty Buckets methodically lays out, the results have been ugly. “Every time Cooper Flagg dribbled the ball, every time he tried to get around a defender, he failed.” He couldn’t shake Duncan Robinson off the bounce, folks. The physicality and separation just aren’t there yet — and defenders are staying glued to him with ease.
But what if he were used correctly? He looks better in transition. He flashes in motion. He cuts well. He draws fouls. He’s hitting free throws. With a real point guard — D’Angelo Russell, Brandon Williams, even Ryan Nembhard — he plays looser, freer, more like the National Player of the Year Dallas thought they were getting.
Instead, Kidd seems locked into another half-baked experiment — not unlike the JaVale McGee debacle of 2022. And it raises the question: is this really about development, or is Kidd still trying to prove a point? Remember, this is the same coach who said, _“I don’t wanna be the one that’s buying the groceries. Just give me the groceries and I’ll figure it out.”_ That was February 8th — just days after the Luka trade.
So will Kidd pivot after ten games like he did with McGee? Will he let Flagg flourish as a wing defender and secondary creator? Or will this stubborn experiment derail not only the Rookie of the Year campaign, but the long-term arc of a player who deserves better?
The clock is ticking. I’m not quite ready to hit the panic button. But Mavs fans should be watching — closely — because this story matters more than this season, if we’re being honest about the future of the franchise. And it’s fair to ask: if the chef resents the grocery truck, how long before sabotaging the meal becomes the real story?
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