

For much of the past decade, the Atlanta Hawks have known exactly who they are when Trae Young is on the floor. What they are learning now is who they might be without him—and that realization is forcing an unavoidable reckoning.
The numbers are no longer subtle. Atlanta is 14-11 without Young this season. With him, the Hawks are 2-8.
That split alone does not constitute a verdict, but it does demand scrutiny—especially when paired with how the team has looked, functioned, and grown during Young’s absences. The Hawks have played faster, shared responsibility more evenly, and leaned into a style that appears better aligned with their emerging core.
Young’s individual production has been respectable, if subdued. In 10 games, Trae Young is averaging 19.3 points, 1.5 rebounds, and 8.9 assists. Those are solid numbers in isolation. They are less convincing when viewed alongside diminished efficiency, including 30.5 percent shooting from three, and a team struggling to sustain momentum.
By contrast, the Hawks without Young have discovered something closer to an identity. Jalen Johnson has been the clearest beneficiary. In 22 games without Young, Johnson is averaging 23.4 points, 11.1 rebounds, and 8.7 assists. More importantly, he has operated as a true hub—initiating offense, pushing pace, defending across positions, and setting a tone that has resonated throughout the roster.
This is where the discussion shifts from uncomfortable to unavoidable.
Atlanta is not merely surviving without Young. It is playing winning basketball more consistently. The ball moves. Defensive accountability improves. Lineups feel less rigid. The Hawks’ best stretches this season have come when responsibility is distributed rather than centralized.
That reality has coincided with a notable increase in leaguewide chatter around Young’s future—and not all of it is flattering.
Insider Ryen Russillo recently relayed feedback from an NBA executive who was asked to evaluate Young’s trade market. The response was blunt.
“It’s hard to think of a team that’s trying to win this season that Trae would help, especially once you factor in what that team would be losing from the players they would have to send back as matching salary,” the executive said. “He doesn’t defend. He doesn’t rebound. Guys hate playing with him.”
Whether one agrees with the tone or not, the sentiment aligns with what multiple insiders have reported: the trade market for Young appears thin. This is the paradox Atlanta now faces.
Young remains a headline player. He is a four-time All-Star, a former assists leader, and a guard whose shooting range alone can warp defensive coverage. Those credentials still matter. But so do the costs attached to his style: defensive limitations, heavy ball dominance, and the challenge of integrating him into a roster that has shown tangible growth without him.
For a rebuilding team, absorbing those tradeoffs might be easier. For a contender—or a team aspiring to be one—the calculus becomes more complicated, especially when matching salary and sacrificing depth are required.
The Hawks do not need to rush a decision. But they can no longer pretend the question does not exist.
Atlanta’s most encouraging basketball this season has come when Johnson is empowered, when the offense breathes, and when the team’s collective energy outweighs individual hierarchy. That reality does not automatically diminish Young’s value—but it does challenge the assumption that he must remain the centerpiece.
The noise around Young will only intensify as the Feb. 5 trade deadline approaches. Whether that noise turns into action is another matter entirely. What is clear is that the Hawks’ Trae Young question is no longer theoretical.
It is structural. And it is shaping the future of the franchise in real time.