**“They Could Be Elite… If They Fix This One Flaw — Duke’s Summer Practices Reveal Just How Close (and Far) the Blue Devils Are From Unlocking Their Full Potential”**

The buzz around Durham this summer is deafening, and for good reason. Duke basketball’s summer practices have unveiled a tantalizing reality: this Blue Devils squad is loaded with talent, dripping with potential, and armed with the kind of raw ability that screams “Final Four.” But in the same breath that coaches and insiders talk about how special this group could be, there’s a shared concern—one thing, one subtle but stubborn flaw, that could keep this team from transforming that potential into a championship season. It’s not shooting. It’s not defense. It’s not a lack of star power. It’s cohesion. A team with this much ability needs time to gel, and if that doesn’t happen quickly, all that promise could evaporate when the real games begin.

In the context of college basketball, especially at a blue-blood like Duke, every offseason is filled with hype. New freshmen arrive with five-star résumés. Veterans return with unfinished business. Coaches hold closed-door workouts where flashes of brilliance are seen, stories of domination are whispered, and predictions of greatness take shape. This summer is no different. Jon Scheyer’s squad has looked electric at times, with freshman phenoms like Cooper Flagg, Isaiah Evans, and Kon Knueppel making highlight-reel plays and showing poise beyond their years. Returners like Tyrese Proctor, Caleb Foster, and Mark Mitchell are taking visible leaps, fueled by experience and the sting of last season’s abrupt end. Scheyer and his staff are thrilled by what they’re seeing. But they’re also cautious—because while each player is thriving individually, the collective isn’t quite there yet.

The problem, insiders say, isn’t effort or attitude. It’s chemistry. Or more precisely, the absence of fully developed chemistry. With so many high-level players vying for meaningful minutes, roles are not yet clearly defined. That’s not unusual for July, but with the season creeping closer, it’s becoming the central issue that could determine how far this team goes. The passing is sharp, but not intuitive. The defense is intense, but occasionally disjointed. Rotations are fluid, but not seamless. The raw material is all there. What’s missing is that unmistakable flow—the kind that separates a collection of elite athletes from an elite team.

Scheyer, in his third year at the helm, knows this dance well. His first two seasons brought flashes of brilliance and periods of growing pains. The challenge this time is managing egos, expectations, and execution all at once. With Cooper Flagg’s arrival, the spotlight on this group is brighter than ever. The projected No. 1 pick in the 2025 NBA Draft has been as advertised—dominant on both ends, fiercely competitive, and mature beyond his years. But even a generational talent like Flagg needs time to integrate into a college-level system, especially one that includes multiple ballhandlers, scoring threats, and veterans who aren’t ready to take a backseat.

Tyrese Proctor’s development adds another layer to the dynamic. After flirting with the NBA, the Australian guard is back and stronger than ever. He’s assumed a leadership role this summer, setting the tone defensively and orchestrating the offense. His chemistry with Flagg is developing, but it’s not yet instinctual. Caleb Foster, another sophomore, is pushing hard for a starting role, bringing with him a scorer’s mentality and a growing command of the game. Then there’s Jeremy Roach, the seasoned vet, quietly anchoring the locker room and reminding everyone what it takes to win in March. All three guards can run the point. All three can create. All three want to lead. But they’ll need to do it together.

In the frontcourt, Mark Mitchell has looked like a different player. More confident. More vocal. More explosive. His versatility is a weapon—he can guard multiple positions, rebound with intensity, and finish through contact. But how he fits alongside Flagg, especially in spacing the floor and sharing the offensive load, remains a work in progress. Christian Reeves, the 7-footer who’s battled injuries and inconsistency, has had moments this summer where he’s looked dominant in the paint. He’s still raw, but his presence could be key in anchoring the defense. Newcomers like Patrick Ngongba and Sean Stewart are also making noise, competing hard and flashing upside. The competition is fierce, and that’s a good thing—until it becomes a logjam.

The good news? This team isn’t ignoring the issue. In fact, it’s all they’re talking about. Practices are focused not just on skill development, but on decision-making and communication. Scheyer is experimenting with different lineups, putting players in unfamiliar roles to see who adapts, who leads, and who can mesh under pressure. There’s an emphasis on ball movement, on playing unselfishly, on staying locked in defensively even when shots aren’t falling. The coaching staff is challenging the players to think like a unit, not just act like one. The message is clear: talent can win games, but trust wins championships.

One practice scrimmage in early July reportedly encapsulated both the promise and the problem. In a fast-paced, full-court run, Flagg dominated the first few minutes, blocking shots, hitting jumpers, and throwing down a thunderous dunk in transition. Proctor responded with a crafty three-point play, followed by a no-look assist to Mitchell. Knueppel drilled a corner three. Evans exploded to the rim. The gym buzzed with energy. But then came the lulls—miscommunication on a switch, an errant pass under pressure, a defensive lapse that led to an easy bucket. The talent had shown up. The cohesion had not. And that’s the razor’s edge Duke is dancing on.

Veterans in the program say this summer feels different from past years—not because the practices are harder, but because the stakes are higher. Everyone knows what’s on the line. Expectations are sky-high. The nation is watching. NBA scouts are lurking. Fans are dreaming. But dreams can become pressure, and pressure can fracture even the most talented rosters. That’s why Duke’s focus right now isn’t on who starts or how many points someone scores in a scrimmage. It’s on building trust. On learning each other’s rhythms. On turning talent into teamwork.

Jon Scheyer has been praised for his recruiting prowess and his calm demeanor, but this season will test his ability to manage personalities and forge unity. He doesn’t need this team to be perfect in July. He needs them to be aligned by November. And if that alignment happens—if this group of individual stars becomes a synchronized force—the ceiling is staggering. A national title isn’t just possible; it becomes probable. The pieces are that good.

But if the chemistry doesn’t click? If the roles remain murky and the cohesion never fully forms? Then Duke could find itself once again on the wrong side of March, wondering how a team with so much talent ended up watching someone else cut down the nets. That’s the urgency behind every drill, every meeting, every conversation in the locker room. The players aren’t shying away from it. They’re embracing it. Because deep down, they know they’re close. So close.

There’s a fire in this group, a hunger that’s hard to miss. It comes through in the way Flagg dives for loose balls, in how Proctor talks during defensive sets, in how the freshmen push the upperclassmen every single day. It’s not just about making highlight reels. It’s about earning respect. About building something real. And while there’s still work to do—still cuts to be made, lineups to solidify, and egos to balance—there’s also an unmistakable sense that something special is brewing in Durham.

“They could be elite,” one assistant coach reportedly said after a recent scrimmage, shaking his head in awe. “If they figure this one thing out… watch out.”

The thing, of course, is chemistry. Not the kind that gets solved overnight, but the kind that’s forged through sweat, sacrifice, and repetition. Duke has the stars. Now they need the symphony. Because in a sport where one bad possession can end a season, greatness isn’t defined by talent alone. It’s defined by how that talent plays together.

So for now, the Blue Devils keep grinding. They keep experimenting. They keep building. Because they know the truth: they’re not there yet. But they’re getting closer. And if they fix that one flaw, they won’t just be good. They’ll be unforgettable.