“WHEN THE BENCH BECOMES THE BOOGEYMAN: Duke’s Second Unit Dominates Practices and Strikes Fear with Relentless Energy and Depth”

The buzz coming out of Durham isn’t centered around the five-star freshmen or the projected lottery picks. It’s not even about the expected starting five that most analysts have already penciled in as one of the most talented lineups in the country. No, the talk around Cameron Indoor these days is about something far more unexpected—and perhaps even more terrifying for Duke’s opponents. It’s the bench. That’s right. The Blue Devils’ second unit has been making waves behind closed doors, and according to multiple insiders and practice reports, this group isn’t just competent. They’re outplaying the starters. They’re relentless. They’re cohesive. And they’re hungry.

For years, Duke has been known as a program that rides its star power. Whether it was the Zion Williamson-led wrecking crew or the Jayson Tatum-Brandon Ingram era, the Blue Devils have often leaned on their most gifted individuals to carry the load. But something has shifted this season. This is not a team with a single superstar surrounded by role players. This is a complete squad, and perhaps the most balanced and deep roster Mike Krzyzewski never had—but Jon Scheyer now does. The result? A second unit so potent that it’s not just pushing the starters—they’re straight-up dominating them in scrimmages.

Insiders who’ve been allowed glimpses of practice sessions report a chaotic, high-intensity brand of basketball being deployed by the second unit. They’re pressing baseline to baseline. They’re flying up and down the court on fast breaks. They’re diving for loose balls like it’s March already. This isn’t typical reserve behavior. This is a group that looks like it’s trying to make a statement every time they step on the hardwood, and they are. Many of these players were stars in high school, ranked in the top 100 nationally, and yet they’re not projected to start this season. That’s a chip on their shoulders, and they’re using it.

It starts with the guards. Sophomore Jaylen Blakes has grown into a bulldog of a defender who’s developed a more confident stroke from deep. Paired with freshman sharpshooter Kon Knueppel, the duo has created major problems for the starters with their two-way energy. Blakes sets the tone on defense, picking up full-court and disrupting the primary ballhandler, while Knueppel spaces the floor and knocks down threes with effortless consistency. Knueppel’s shooting has been described by one staffer as “pro-level already,” and his feel for the game is drawing comparisons to former Blue Devil Grayson Allen—but with even more polish as a freshman.

The wings are equally lethal. Jared McCain, who may start but has spent time running with the second unit, brings a tenacity that fits the “Bench Boogeyman” identity perfectly. His motor never stops. He’s in your jersey defensively, pushing the pace offensively, and doing the little things that turn a second unit into something greater. Combine that with someone like TJ Power, a 6’8″ hybrid forward with shooting range and physicality, and you’ve got matchups that become nightmares for even starting-caliber defenders. Power is a unique blend of stretch four and undersized five who crashes the boards hard and then runs the break like a guard. In scrimmages, he’s often the first one down the floor and has racked up multiple chase-down blocks that had the coaching staff out of their seats.

Then there’s the frontcourt, where things get downright scary. Christian Reeves, the redshirt sophomore center who’s bulked up over the offseason, has been a force in the paint. His development is perhaps the biggest surprise of camp so far. He’s finishing strong at the rim, altering shots on defense, and showing a newly developed baby hook that has become nearly automatic. Pairing Reeves with Sean Stewart, the athletic freak who can guard five positions, gives Duke a frontcourt duo off the bench that could start for almost any other team in America. Stewart, in particular, has been labeled as “the ultimate chaos agent” by one insider. He’s everywhere. He switches onto guards and shuts them down. He rebounds above the rim. He dunks everything. He’s energy personified, and his versatility has allowed Scheyer to deploy wild, switch-heavy defensive schemes during practice scrimmages.

The result of all this depth is daily battles that are sharpening iron against iron. No one is safe. No one can coast. Every practice is a war, and that internal competition is raising the ceiling of the entire program. The starters are being pushed harder than they’ve ever been. Scheyer has mentioned on multiple occasions that these practices feel like “tournament-level intensity,” and that’s largely due to the second unit’s refusal to play like reserves. They want those starting spots. They want to prove they belong on the floor when the game is on the line. And frankly, some of them might end up there. With the way roles are still being shaped, don’t be surprised if Duke’s closing lineups feature more of these so-called backups than the original starters.

What makes this situation even more impressive is how cohesive the second unit has become. Often, reserve groups can lack chemistry. They’re made up of players waiting for minutes, often with different agendas or paces. But that’s not the case here. This bench unit has gelled in a way that mirrors a veteran overseas squad. The ball movement is crisp. The communication on defense is loud and constant. The off-ball cutting, screening, and anticipation on both ends show a group that’s bought into their identity—and more importantly, into each other.

Credit must be given to the coaching staff, who have embraced this unexpected development and are leveraging it to create one of the most competitive in-practice environments in all of college basketball. Rather than lean on pedigree or ranking, Scheyer has embraced a merit-based approach that rewards performance over potential. It’s created a culture where every minute is earned, every mistake is corrected on the fly, and every player feels like their number could be called at any moment. That sense of urgency is infectious. It has become the team’s heartbeat.

For opponents, this development should be a major cause for concern. Facing Duke was already a daunting task. Add to that a second unit that comes in with fresh legs, defensive fury, and offensive discipline, and you’ve got a full 40-minute war on your hands. There’s no drop-off. In fact, there might be an elevation in tempo and intensity when the bench checks in. That’s a rare luxury at the college level, especially in a sport often defined by short rotations and superstar reliance. Duke’s bench isn’t just insurance. They’re a weapon.

And they’re embracing that role. The second unit has developed its own identity within the larger team fabric. They’ve adopted a mindset of disruption. Their goal is to change the game the moment they enter. Whether it’s a 12-0 run fueled by transition buckets and steals or a six-minute stretch of lockdown defense, they want to be the reason the momentum shifts. They want to be the reason a game turns. They want to be the group that opposing coaches dread seeing walk to the scorer’s table.

What’s happening in Durham right now is special. Depth is one thing. Depth with purpose, chemistry, and fire is another. Duke isn’t just stacking talent—they’re weaponizing it. And this bench, this so-called second unit, might just be the sharpest blade in their arsenal.

It’s still early. The season hasn’t tipped off. There’s no trophy to hoist or banners to raise in August. But if practice is any indication—and according to those who’ve seen it firsthand, it absolutely is—then Duke’s biggest strength might not be who they start, but who they bring off the bench. That’s not just a luxury. That’s a competitive advantage. And come March, when depth, defense, and desperation decide championships, that could be the difference.

So, while the spotlight may initially shine on the projected lottery picks and the five-star freshmen in the starting lineup, don’t be surprised when it’s the so-called backups who steal the show. They’re ready. They’re hungry. And they’ve already proven they’re not waiting their turn—they’re taking it.