Duke’s season could be altered by this one change before it even begins. One minor tweak. OUTSTANDING Outcomes — Jon Scheyer One thing was quietly changed. and The Practice Has Changed… Emerging Leaders Are Taking Over.
Duke basketball enters the 2025-26 season with sky-high expectations, loaded with returning talent and incoming stars, and under the steady guidance of head coach Jon Scheyer. But amid the noise surrounding rankings, draft boards, and projections, one subtle yet significant change could shape the Blue Devils’ destiny before the first tip-off. It’s not a blockbuster recruit or a change in offensive strategy, but rather a fundamental tweak to how the team approaches preparation, identity, and leadership. It’s a shift in mindset and execution that’s already rippling through the program’s daily operations, especially in practice. And from those quiet echoes in Cameron Indoor’s practice facility, something transformative is beginning to emerge.
This one change? The elevation of emerging leaders within the team and a restructuring of the culture of practice. The result is sharper focus, deeper accountability, and an intensity that mirrors Duke’s championship aspirations. In an era when most top college basketball programs are defined by one-and-dones and constant roster turnover, Duke’s ability to sustain excellence hinges on continuity and development. This year, more than ever before, that continuity is being driven from within. The tweak isn’t flashy, but it’s already proving profound. It centers on how practice is run, who’s setting the tone, and how Scheyer is empowering players to lead each other before the season even begins.
This subtle shift began over the summer, when Scheyer and his staff re-evaluated how the team builds cohesion and competitiveness during the offseason. The program has always taken practice seriously—Duke’s legacy demands nothing less—but this year, the approach has changed. Instead of a coach-led tempo in every drill and scrimmage, more responsibility is being placed on the players to hold themselves and each other to elite standards. That means returning veterans like Tyrese Proctor, Caleb Foster, and Sean Stewart are stepping forward—not just as contributors, but as vocal leaders, as tone-setters, as the ones demanding effort and execution on every possession.
This change didn’t happen by accident. Scheyer, now in his third full season as head coach, recognized that for Duke to maximize its potential, leadership couldn’t be reserved for the sidelines or pregame speeches. It had to be embedded in the fabric of every rep, every defensive rotation, every transition drill. So, over the summer, he implemented a leadership initiative focused on giving key players more agency during practice. Players began leading film sessions, running certain segments of practice, and even reviewing performance data and giving feedback to teammates. It was a small adjustment—technically speaking, a tweak—but one that’s proving to have outsized impact.
One of the immediate effects of this new dynamic has been the rise of internal competition. With more player-led accountability, every mistake is corrected faster, and every possession carries more urgency. Coaches have noted that the intensity level is higher now than in any offseason in recent memory. Drills don’t need to be restarted because someone wasn’t giving full effort—teammates are already calling it out. Scrimmages have the kind of edge usually seen in March, not July. And for younger players just arriving on campus, the message is loud and clear: this is the standard. Adapt or be left behind.
The practice culture has fundamentally changed. It’s no longer just about implementing plays or refining skills—it’s about establishing dominance through relentless discipline. Players aren’t waiting to be corrected by a coach; they’re demanding accountability from each other in real-time. That internal drive is what separates good teams from great ones. And Scheyer, perhaps more than anyone, understands this. As a former Duke captain and a key figure in multiple Final Four runs, he knows firsthand what it means to have leaders in the locker room who won’t let the standard slip. That experience is now informing his own coaching philosophy in a way that’s finally taking full shape.
The impact is also being felt on the individual development front. With practices being more competitive and player-driven, individuals are being challenged in new ways. Proctor, once a highly-touted freshman with flashes of brilliance, now carries himself like an NBA-ready guard—commanding, vocal, strategic. Foster, once viewed as a raw talent, is suddenly a technician with poise and leadership instincts. Stewart, known primarily for his athleticism, is evolving into a cornerstone piece with a growing voice. Even the freshmen—like incoming phenom Cooper Flagg—are being immersed into this environment of high expectations and immediate accountability.
Flagg, for his part, is benefiting tremendously. As arguably the most hyped recruit in years, he could easily walk into Duke expecting to lead by talent alone. But the shift in culture ensures that even a generational talent must first prove his leadership within the team’s established framework. The returning players are setting the tone, and Flagg is responding in kind—matching intensity, seeking feedback, and letting his work ethic speak for itself. It’s the kind of environment that polishes elite players and forges championship teams.
There’s also a broader team-wide psychological shift occurring. Duke has always had talent. That’s never been in question. But talent alone doesn’t win titles—especially in a sport where one bad shooting night can send even the best teams home. What does win championships is a level of collective mental toughness and cohesion that allows a team to weather adversity, to adapt mid-game, and to execute under pressure. That kind of resilience doesn’t magically appear in March. It’s built in July, in practices most fans will never see. And right now, those practices are where Duke’s foundation is being laid.
Scheyer’s approach reflects a growing understanding in elite coaching circles: true culture change comes from within. You can preach values and principles all day, but unless players live them out—and enforce them amongst themselves—the message never sticks. This season, Duke’s players are no longer just absorbing the culture; they’re actively shaping it. They’re co-authors of the team’s identity, and that’s what makes this shift so powerful. It’s no longer “Coach Scheyer’s team”—it’s their team.
This shared ownership is also affecting how the staff prepares the team tactically. With players more engaged in leadership roles, practices now feature more collaborative breakdowns and situational problem-solving. Rather than simply being told what went wrong in a drill, players are asked to identify and correct it themselves. That cognitive engagement leads to better retention and smarter in-game decision-making. It also fosters trust—both among teammates and between players and coaches. Trust that will be essential in the late stages of tight ACC battles and the emotional roller coaster of March Madness.
The outcome of all of this? A Duke team that isn’t just talented, but mature, focused, and battle-hardened long before the real battles begin. A team where the gap between starters and reserves is narrower than ever, not because the talent is evenly spread, but because the effort and attention to detail are uniform across the board. A team that will enter the season not just aiming for greatness, but expecting it—and prepared to demand it from each other every day.
If this team makes a deep tournament run—or cuts down the nets in April—it won’t be because of one buzzer-beater or one unstoppable scorer. It will be because of this: a minor tweak, one barely noticed outside the program, that transformed the entire trajectory of the season. A change in practice. A rise in internal leadership. A culture reset that came not from desperation or failure, but from the recognition that good wasn’t going to be good enough.
This isn’t a gimmick or a motivational tactic. It’s the natural evolution of a program striving to bridge its storied past with its ambitious future. It’s Jon Scheyer putting his fingerprint on Duke basketball in a way that reflects both tradition and innovation. And it’s working.
As summer ends and the season nears, it’s already clear—something is different. Not louder. Not flashier. But sharper. Stronger. More unified. Duke’s season may not begin officially until the ball goes up in November, but the transformation has already begun. And it all started with a simple change that no one outside the program even noticed. A tweak that, in hindsight, might define everything that follows.
