The Monumental Reset: How the Wizards’ Youth Movement Will Pay Off for Michael Winger, Will Dawkins, and the New Front Office
(Photo credit: Monumental Sports. Shown: Wizards GM Will Dawkins)
When Ernie Grunfeld finally got shown the door in 2019, it wasn’t just the end of a front office regime — it was the end of an era defined by basketball purgatory.
For more than a decade, the Wizards hovered around mediocrity like it was a comfort zone. They weren’t good enough to contend, weren’t bad enough to rebuild, and over time, even the city stopped caring.
So when Ted Leonsis started preaching “Monumental Basketball” — combining the Wizards, Mystics, and Capital City Go-Go under one banner — it sounded like another marketing slogan. Another attempt to patch over a team without a foundation.
But beneath the surface, something structural was happening. This wasn’t just a rebuild. This was a demolition followed by a full-scale construction project. And Michael Winger and Will Dawkins were the architects.
The Birth of Monumental Basketball
“Monumental Basketball” was meant to be a philosophy — one vision across three franchises. Shared scouting, development, and analytics.
Under Tommy Sheppard, it never took shape. The Wizards talked culture but chased the next short-term fix: Spencer Dinwiddie, Kristaps Porziņģis, the eternal quest for the eighth seed.
Internally, it was chaos: overlapping priorities, competing agendas, no shared identity. They were running in circles.
By 2023, Leonsis knew the experiment had stalled. Enter Michael Winger — organized, detail-oriented, with the reputation for actually building a culture that lasts.
With him came Will Dawkins, Sam Presti’s quiet consigliere from OKC, known league-wide for spotting talent early and thinking in layers — like a poker player or, more fittingly, a contractor reading blueprints.
“It’s quieter,” a staffer told me last season. “But it’s smarter. Everything has a reason now.”
They didn’t rush headlines. They audited the building — literally and figuratively — talking to everyone from interns to trainers, figuring out what could be salvaged and what had to go.
What they found was a team stuck in between eras. And their first big decision was to stop pretending.
The Winger-Dawkins Blueprint: The Architect’s Plan
If there’s one thing that defines this era, it’s patience with purpose.
Dawkins put it plainly: “We’re still in the deconstruction phase of our rebuild. There are four phases: deconstruction, laying the foundation, building it up, and then fortifying what we’ve built.”
That quote isn’t just a soundbite — it’s the operating principle. This isn’t a quick flip. It’s a total teardown and rebuild.
The deconstruction phase meant more than trading Bradley Beal or Kristaps Porziņģis. It meant ripping out old habits, bad contracts, and identity confusion. It meant admitting that chasing short-term wins had no future.
The foundation phase — where the Wizards are now — is about structure. Establishing habits, systems, and accountability. Brian Keefe is the foreman on the site, making sure every rep in practice supports the long-term build.
Every roster move, every development decision, every veteran hire is a beam in the framework. Nothing is accidental.
When Dawkins talks about “fortifying,” he isn’t just talking about talent — he’s talking resilience, culture, and sustainable systems. This is about building a team that can withstand pressure and grow over time.
From Chaos to Cohesion
The early Winger-Dawkins era was controlled chaos. The team lost big, but losses had context. The coaching was developmental, the rotations experimental, and every game a blueprint in progress.
Brian Keefe brings the structure. He isn’t rah-rah; he’s a technician. Practices are teaching moments. Every drill builds toward a finished product.
“He’s consistent. He doesn’t play favorites. He’s not trying to be your friend, but he’s trying to make you better. That’s new for this group,” a staffer said.
For the first time in years, the Wizards have alignment — from the front office to the bench to the locker room. There’s a shared language now. You can see it in the gym.
The Young Core: Scaffolding for the Future
The rebuild isn’t about one superstar — it’s about a structure coming together piece by piece.
Bilal Coulibaly is the first stud on the frame. Rookie energy gave him highlight dunks, blocks, and chaos. Now, his game is more controlled, more strategic. Internally, staffers talk about his film study and quiet leadership:
“He’s one of those guys who never says much. But when he does, everyone listens.”
Kyshawn George is the steel beam. Long, poised, unbothered, he carries himself like he knows he belongs. The locker room calls him the dog — the one who doesn’t flinch under pressure.
Bub Carrington is the wiring. The team wants him to be the point guard, the connector, but they aren’t certain he has the pure playmaking instincts. He’s allowed to experiment, to fail, to learn the rhythm of the NBA before they pour the drywall.
Alex Sarr, the number 2 overall pick and the big gamble of this rebuild, is the structural wildcard. If he starts scoring effectively around the basket and buys into his role as a defensive anchor, he could turn into a viable cornerstone. Right now, he’s raw, but the potential to become a modern two-way big is undeniable. Sarr is like a heavy girder waiting to be bolted into place — if it holds, it transforms the framework; if it struggles, the team will have to adjust around him.
This young core is scaffolding. It doesn’t shine on its own yet, but without it, the house can’t stand.
The Veteran Balance: Stabilizers in the Build
CJ McCollum and Khris Middleton are the temporary supports.
McCollum mentors the young guards, pulling them aside after possessions to break down reads or screens.
“He’s basically another coach,” a source told me. “But one that the guys actually listen to,” a team employee told me during training camp.
Middleton provides the calm that holds everything steady. Even on quiet nights, he models preparation, communication, and professionalism.
One of the more poignant comments from media day last week had to be Khris Middleton’s answer to the question of what his goals where at this stage of his career and his answer was short, sweet, yet impactful: “my goal is to play basketball a long as I can in the NBA.”
That is the answer of a man who gets it. He knows where he is in his career and his number one goal is to remain apart of “the show” and as a seasoned veteran he knows that means showing that he can be a leader, staying healthy, and producing on the court.
Both Middleton and McCollum understand their dual role: lead now, raise trade value later. In this phase, they’re the drywall keeping the structure upright until the young core can carry it.
The Mystics & Go-Go: Laying the Extended Foundation
Monumental Basketball isn’t just the Wizards. The Mystics provide best-practice blueprints. The Go-Go are a testing ground — a lab where drills, systems, and habits are trialed before they reach the NBA level.
And John Thompson III is the glue. He’s the community liaison keeping the Wizards connected to DC while helping the organization think long-term. Thompson was instrumental in hiring Jamila Wideman as GM and Sydney Johnson as coach of the Mystics, ensuring that player development and culture extend beyond the NBA team and into the full Monumental ecosystem.
It’s vertical integration. Shared DNA. Discipline. Movement. Adaptability. Every part of the organization contributes to the long-term build.
The Internal Shift
Inside the building, the difference is tangible. Less frantic, more deliberate. Staff aligned. Scouts targeting clear profiles. Development coaches with structured objectives.
Dawkins’ “no hero” mentality is everywhere. Everyone knows the rebuild is collective. No shortcuts. No false hope.
This is the grind of construction — messy, imperfect, but intentional.
When Losing Starts to Mean Something
Rebuilds are painful. But these losses feel productive. Every lineup tweak, every experimental rep is laying concrete. Mistakes are measured, lessons absorbed.
This slow burn is how you build something that lasts. In two or three years, this structure could be complete.
If Coulibaly becomes a two-way menace… If George blossoms into a scoring wing… If Carrington masters point guard duties… If Sarr becomes the defensive anchor and starts scoring efficiently in the paint…
…then the Wizards will finally have a nucleus capable of competing. Add smart drafting, flexible cap space, and optionality, and the foundation becomes a home — a team that can actually contend.
“Monumental” Finally Means Something
Five years ago, “Monumental Basketball” sounded like a slogan. Now, it’s a blueprint in motion.
Winger and Dawkins are building patience into a city addicted to impatience. Chaos into structure. Scaffolding into habit.
Thompson ensures the building stays connected to the streets, the city, and the next generation of talent. Every phase — from deconstruction to fortification — is being executed with eyes on the long-term vision.
Slowly, DC is watching the blueprint take shape.
When the young core clicks — Coulibaly locking down All-Stars, George hitting clutch shots, Carrington finding his role, Sarr becoming the defensive and scoring anchor — Monumental Basketball won’t just be a name.
It’ll be a built structure, brick by brick, phase by phase.
They’re still in deconstruction. But the foundation is set. And when it’s finished, it’ll be real.
Good insight as always. What’s Tre and Will? those optional add ons they try to upsell you at the model crib? If they hit, we get the granite countertops? 😂
Great stuff, Troy! I'm excited for this season to get started!