
Cooper Flagg makes a bad choice by agreeing to a four-year deal with the Duke Blue Devils, which would keep him there until 2028.
Cooper Flagg, the most hyped high school basketball prospect since LeBron James, shocked the basketball world not just by reclassifying to the Class of 2024 but by taking an unprecedented step: agreeing to a four-year deal with the Duke Blue Devils that would potentially keep him in college through the 2027–2028 season. In an era when elite prospects usually view college basketball as a one-year pit stop on the way to NBA stardom, Flagg’s decision is as confounding as it is controversial.
For Duke fans, the commitment initially sounds like a dream come true. But for Flagg, the long-term implications may be more nightmare than fantasy. Simply put, the 6-foot-9 phenom from Maine might have made a major mistake. Here’s why.
Basketball today is dominated by efficiency — and not just on the court. Players, families, agents, and brands are all focused on maximizing earning potential as quickly as possible. In the post-Zion, post-NIL, post-G-League Ignite world, staying in college for more than one year is increasingly rare for a top-tier prospect. Even players who dominate the college level — think Anthony Davis, Zion Williamson, or Paolo Banchero — left after their freshman campaigns to capitalize on their lottery stock.
Flagg was widely viewed as the consensus No. 1 overall pick in the 2025 NBA Draft. That’s not speculation — it was a near-certainty, even before he set foot on Duke’s campus. Locking himself into a four-year deal bucks this modern trend and raises significant questions: Why risk the money, the health, and the opportunity?
It only takes one wrong landing or a freak collision to change the trajectory of a career. That’s a harsh but undeniable truth of elite athletics. For every Kevin Durant who has overcome serious injuries, there are Derrick Roses — players whose earning power and peak years were cut short due to physical breakdowns.
By staying four years at Duke, Flagg subjects himself to 120+ college basketball games, rigorous ACC play, March Madness battles, and relentless training — all of which increase the chances of wear-and-tear or catastrophic injury. The NBA schedule is grueling, but at least there, the reward is greater. Why accept that level of risk while still drawing a college stipend and NIL endorsements instead of a guaranteed multimillion-dollar contract?
Flagg is a hyper-athletic forward whose game depends heavily on timing, bounce, and motor. Even a minor knee or foot issue could jeopardize what was projected to be a historic pro career. Four years of wear might cost him tens of millions.
Another trap of staying too long in college is overexposure. While Flagg’s dominance in the high school and AAU circuits gave him a legendary reputation, staying in school four years invites scouts to pick apart every perceived weakness.
History provides cautionary tales. Players like Emoni Bates, who once were considered generational talents, saw their stocks plummet due to prolonged NCAA stints and inconsistent development. Meanwhile, players like Brandon Miller, Scoot Henderson, and Jalen Green cashed in after relatively short stints in college or alternate professional paths.
Flagg is already projected as the top prospect. There’s nowhere higher to go. But there are plenty of places to fall — especially if his shooting doesn’t develop at an NBA level, or if he begins to look less dominant in Duke’s system than he did against high school competition.
Much has been made of how NIL (Name, Image, Likeness) money has changed college basketball. And yes, it’s true that top players can now make millions through endorsements and sponsorships while still playing in college. But it’s a far cry from the guaranteed salary of an NBA lottery pick.
The No. 1 overall pick in the NBA Draft signs a rookie deal worth approximately $50 million over four years, not including endorsements. Meanwhile, even top NIL earners like Bronny James are reportedly in the $4–5 million per year range — and that’s likely inflated by brand and family connections. Flagg’s NIL value is high, but is it that high? Even if he pulls in $3 million annually, that’s a steep discount from his actual market value.
Moreover, NIL deals aren’t guaranteed. They fluctuate with performance, injuries, and marketability. The NBA, by contrast, offers locked-in contracts and a pathway to supermax deals. By choosing to remain at Duke, Flagg might be sacrificing his prime earning years for less stability and less money.
When was the last time a player stayed four years in college and still became an NBA superstar? Tim Duncan comes to mind — and he graduated from Wake Forest in 1997. That was a different era. The NBA landscape has changed dramatically, and the new paradigm is clear: get in early, learn on the job, and grow within the professional system.
Today’s elite talent rarely benefits from prolonged collegiate exposure. Instead, scouts prefer younger players with room to develop. By 2028, Flagg will be 22 years old — and possibly competing in a draft class with younger, more projectable 18- or 19-year-olds who have been playing in the G-League or overseas. That age difference matters when franchises are deciding whom to invest in long-term.
In the current model, four years in college can mark a player as a “finished product,” which isn’t necessarily attractive. NBA teams want upside. Ironically, staying at Duke too long might cause teams to undervalue Flagg — simply because he’s too polished.
Duke is undoubtedly one of the premier programs in college basketball, and Jon Scheyer has done a respectable job continuing the legacy of Coach K. But it’s not the NBA. The level of competition, the defensive schemes, the spacing — none of it compares to the professional game.
If Flagg’s goal is to be the best player in the world, wouldn’t he be better served in the NBA’s developmental pipeline? The G-League Ignite, the NBL’s Next Stars program, or a quick one-year stop at Duke (max two) would offer high-level prep before making the leap. Four years under NCAA restrictions, regardless of coaching quality, is not the ideal path to NBA readiness.
While Flagg will surely dominate at Duke, he won’t be facing NBA-caliber defenders every night, nor will he have access to NBA-level analytics, trainers, and nutritionists. That matters — especially for a player who will be judged not just on his college legacy, but on how he translates to the next level.
The longer Flagg stays in college, the more pressure builds. If he doesn’t win multiple national titles, ACC Player of the Year awards, or break records, his stock might take a hit. The media will dissect every off night, every slump, every missed clutch shot.
Zion was untouchable in his lone season at Duke — because he left before the honeymoon ended. Flagg risks overstaying his welcome. His legend can only diminish with every year he fails to deliver the unattainable. Even Christian Laettner — the gold standard of four-year dominance — became a polarizing figure.
By staying until 2028, Flagg invites four full years of scrutiny. That’s an unnecessary burden for a player already being compared to Kevin Durant and Larry Bird.
One has to wonder: who advised this? Was it his family, hoping for a more traditional experience? Was it an NIL collective offering a massive multi-year payout? Was it Duke’s pitch about building a legacy?
None of those justifications hold much water when placed alongside Flagg’s NBA potential. It’s hard not to see this as a sentimental or loyalty-driven decision — which is admirable, but also potentially naïve in the high-stakes world of professional sports.
Flagg had a chance to do what Victor Wembanyama just did — go No. 1 overall, skip the college charade, and immediately impact the NBA. Now, he’s taking a route that no elite prospect has chosen in decades.
There’s no denying Cooper Flagg’s talent. He’s a once-in-a-decade prospect with the skill set to become an NBA All-Star and international icon. But agreeing to a four-year college stint — even at a blue blood like Duke — is a decision that could limit his potential, delay his development, and shrink his long-term earnings.
Basketball history is clear: the game waits for no one. Hype is fleeting. Dominance has a short shelf life. Flagg is risking it all — health, money, draft position, and public perception — for what appears to be a noble but misguided pursuit of legacy and loyalty.
In today’s NBA world, that might be the worst bet a young star can make.