The Trae Young Problem

ATLANTA — On the night of December 21st, the Atlanta Hawks and Chicago Bulls put on an offensive clinic, racking up a staggering 231 points through three quarters. But as the game wound down, it was the final five minutes that told the real story—one not just about shot-making, but about defensive vulnerability, strategic targeting, and the future of a franchise built around its smallest star.

The Hawks, down four, watched helplessly as Chicago orchestrated possession after possession to force Trae Young—their gifted but defensively challenged point guard—into the spotlight. What followed was a masterclass in modern NBA offense and a revealing look at why Atlanta’s defense has become one of the league’s weakest, especially with Young on the floor.

The Anatomy of a Defensive Breakdown

Chicago’s approach was surgical. Up four, they set up their offense to make Young the “low man”—the last line of help against a baseline cut. Young, focused on the primary action, missed his assignment slipping behind him. A crosscourt skip pass from Josh Giddey forced a scramble, and Jaylen Johnson’s desperate X-out rotation left the Bulls with a wide-open three.

Seconds later, Chicago attacked again. After a screen, Onyeka Okongwu jumped out to the ball, leaving Nikola Vucevic in the middle with a four-on-three. Vucevic found Kobe White for another triple. Atlanta’s attempt to hide Young was obvious, but the Bulls were relentless, bringing Jones up to the ball in hopes of forcing Young onto Giddey. Alexander Walker tried to “scram” Young out of the play with a pre-switch, but that left him isolated with White—another mismatch. The Bulls cleared the side, let White go one-on-one, and watched him convert a layup.

The pattern repeated: Chicago scored 13 points in about three minutes, all by attacking Young. They finished the night with 152 points in regulation, riding a wave of hot shooting and surgical exploitation of Atlanta’s defensive weak link.

Not an Isolated Incident

This wasn’t a one-off. Just three days earlier, the Hornets made Young the target of every possession, scoring 133. A week later, Miami scored 126. The next night, New York dropped 128, handing Atlanta their sixth straight loss. The numbers were brutal: in the 10 games Young played, the Hawks posted the third-worst defense in the NBA, allowing 122 points per 100 possessions. In the 28 games he missed, they allowed just 115—a league-average mark—and went over .500. With Young, Atlanta was 2-8.

The message was clear, and the questions unavoidable: Can a single player damage a defense this much? Have Young’s defensive liabilities started to outweigh his offensive brilliance? And was Washington right to gamble on a trade?

The NBA’s Evolution: No Place to Hide

Throughout NBA history, teams have built around great offensive players who struggled on defense—think Allen Iverson, Steve Nash, and countless others. For decades, coaches could “hide” their weakest link on a stationary shooter or non-factor, mitigating the damage. Some guards even found ways to add value: Iverson jumped passing lanes and led the league in steals; Nash drew charges and was always in the right spot.

But the NBA of 2026 is a different beast. Today, almost every rotation player can shoot, pass, and dribble. There are no “safe” matchups. Against Chicago, Young spent time guarding Modestas Buselis, a 6’8″ athletic forward who could create off the dribble. Against New York, he was matched with Mikal Bridges, a three-level scorer and playmaker. Even the Hornets put him on LaMelo Ball, and the results were predictable.

More than talent, it’s strategy that’s changed. Modern offenses target weak defenders relentlessly, bringing them into every action. Guard-to-guard screening is now a staple, creating mismatches early in the clock or forcing rotations. In last year’s Eastern Conference Finals, the Pacers hunted Jalen Brunson and Karl-Anthony Towns every possession, forcing Tom Thibodeau into drastic lineup changes and defensive coverages.

With Young, the scheme is simple: bring his man into the ball screen, force him to defend, and watch Atlanta scramble. He’s undersized (6’2″, 164 lbs), not strong enough to hold his ground, and lacks the length or lateral quickness to recover. The result is a mismatch every time, with the Hawks forced into rotations that leave shooters open and the paint unprotected.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Over the past five seasons, Atlanta’s defensive rating with Young on the court has hovered around 119—bottom two in the league. With him on the bench, it drops to 115, right at league average. Opponents shoot better from two and three, get to the rim more often, and turn the ball over less. Offensive rebounds spike, and points pile up.

Young isn’t the only reason Atlanta’s defense is weak, but he’s at the center of most problems. Without him, the Hawks can switch, avoid over-helping, and maintain structure. With him, every possession is a scramble, every rotation a risk.

Why Is Young So Easy to Target?

Young’s defensive struggles aren’t just about size. He’s often out of position, slow to rotate, and has a tendency to “float” rather than commit. He rarely boxes out, doesn’t make second efforts, and is caught watching the ball. His processing speed, so elite on offense, vanishes on defense. He doesn’t jump passing lanes like Luka Doncic or James Harden, doesn’t draw charges, and doesn’t help on the glass. When he gambles, it’s usually out of position and leads to open shots.

In short, he’s a rare breed of defender with no redeeming defensive qualities. The Hawks have tried every scheme—hedging, switching, hiding him on weaker shooters—but offenses are too sophisticated. If he’s on the floor, he’s in the crosshairs.

Offensive Genius, Defensive Liability

Of course, Young’s offensive value is immense. He’s a one-man offense, gifted with a lightning-quick release, deep shooting range, elite handle, and an uncanny ability to create shots for himself and others. His passing is world-class, turning pick-and-rolls into dunks and threes for teammates. For years, Atlanta ran their entire offense through him, and it worked: top-10 offenses, MVP-level impact, 30-point, 10-assist nights.

But as defenses evolved, so did the challenge. The 2021 playoffs were Young’s peak: the Knicks, Sixers, and Bucks all played drop coverage, letting him operate in structure. He shredded them, running pick-and-rolls on autopilot. But in 2022, Miami changed the game—mixing coverages, switching, hedging, blitzing, sending help from the gaps. Young couldn’t predetermine his reads, and his efficiency plummeted: 15 points, 6 assists per game, 32% shooting, 18% from three. Atlanta’s offense cratered.

Now, in 2026, every team has the blueprint. No one plays deep drop against Young. Defenses mix schemes, send length and pressure, and shrink the floor. Primary defenders are bigger, stronger, longer. Ball pressure is constant, and Young’s structure-based approach is increasingly ineffective.

The Modern NBA: Adapt or Fade

What’s happened is simple: Young hasn’t progressed, and the league has. Offenses are more efficient, defenses more sophisticated. Young’s scoring efficiency has dropped below league average, making him a less viable primary option. He doesn’t have an off-ball game, so the offense must run through him. The pick-and-roll diet that made Atlanta elite five years ago is now just average.

Statistically, the Hawks were 3.5 points better on offense with Young, but 3.5 points worse on defense. The net result: a team that hovered around average, never breaking through. Since Young became an All-Star, Atlanta won less than 47% of games with him, and exactly .500 without him.

Is Young Still a Franchise Cornerstone?

This is the central question. Even with his playmaking and occasional scoring explosions, Young’s limitations are stacking up. He’s not a negative impact player, but he’s no longer a championship-caliber building block. His current contract—a five-year, $215 million rookie max extension—makes him one of the highest-paid players in the league, with a $48 million player option looming.

For Atlanta, the calculus changed. The Hawks decided to move on, trading Young to Washington. For the Wizards, it’s a gamble, but one with upside: cap space, developing young players, and defensive pieces to surround him. Washington can give Young touches, assess the fit, and see if he can help elevate off-ball talent like Alex Sarr, Keshan George, and Trey Johnson.

What Makes Young Special?

Despite the defensive woes, Young remains one of the NBA’s best creators. His pull-up shooting forces defenses to extend, his handle gets him into the paint, and his vision creates easy buckets for teammates. His pick-and-roll mastery is still elite, and in the right system, he can drive a top offense.

But for Young to succeed, he needs a roster built to cover his weaknesses—strong defenders, versatile wings, and a scheme that limits his exposure. In Atlanta, that was no longer possible. In Washington, with cap space and flexibility, it might be.

The Leaguewide Implications

Young’s story is emblematic of the NBA’s evolution. The days of hiding a weak defender are gone. Every player must contribute, every possession is a chess match. Teams are built around versatility, two-way play, and adaptability. Small guards with defensive limitations face an uphill battle, and even offensive stars must find ways to impact the game on both ends.

The rise in offensive talent means every rotation player is a threat, every scheme is sophisticated. The margin for error is razor-thin. For players like Young, the challenge is clear: adapt, improve, or risk being left behind.

Looking Ahead

For the Hawks, the post-Young era is a chance to reset—build a defense that isn’t constantly scrambling, develop young talent, and find a new identity. For Young, Washington is a fresh start, a chance to prove he can still be a difference-maker.

The trade is a bet on upside, creativity, and the hope that, with the right pieces, Young’s offensive superpowers can outweigh his defensive flaws. It’s also a reminder that in the modern NBA, no player is immune to the game’s constant evolution.

The Verdict

Trae Young is still one of the most dynamic creators in basketball. But as the league has evolved, his limitations have become harder to hide. Atlanta’s defense suffered, and the team never broke through. In Washington, he’ll have a chance to reinvent himself, surrounded by youth and defensive talent.

For fans, analysts, and teams, Young’s journey is a lesson in adaptation, the value of versatility, and the unforgiving nature of elite competition. The NBA moves fast, and only those who evolve survive.

As the season continues, all eyes will be on Washington—on Young, on the Wizards, and on the next chapter in the story of a player whose offense once dazzled the league, but whose defense may have finally forced a reckoning.