Nobody Was Supposed to Beat Those Records
Cooper Flagg just scored 49 points against the Charlotte Hornets.
At 19 years old, he set the NBA record for most points scored by a teenager. Not tied it. Set it.
The thing that got me wasn’t just the number, though 49 is absurd for anyone, let alone a kid who’s barely been in the league long enough to unpack his apartment. What caught my attention was the phrase I kept seeing everywhere: “Nobody saw this coming.”
But here’s what actually interests me: we couldn’t see it coming. Not because the data wasn’t there. Not because Cooper wasn’t talented. But because the system of how we think about basketball talent, where it comes from, who develops it, what trajectories look like, didn’t have room for a kid from Maine becoming the #1 draft pick and immediately rewriting the record books.
The Geography of “Supposed To”
I’ve got my own small connection to this. I grew up in Massachusetts, went to summer camp in Maine as a kid, spent my undergrad years at Bates in Lewiston. Somewhere in my parents’ basement is a camp yearbook where I apparently got some basketball recognition. I was a little baller back then—or at least thought I was.
But here’s the thing: nobody looks to Maine or Massachusetts to produce elite basketball players. When I was working with CBS MaxPreps covering high school sports over a decade ago, that geographic reality was built into how we all thought about talent pipelines. You looked to certain states, certain programs, certain systems. Maine wasn’t on the list.
Cooper Flagg being drafted #1 by the Dallas Mavericks last year was already remarkable. Him immediately breaking LeBron James records? That breaks the model entirely.
And the records aren’t small:
- Youngest player to score 40+ points (broke LeBron’s record)
- Tied LeBron as youngest to score 25+ points
- Only other player besides LeBron to score 30+ before turning 19
- Youngest with 40+ points and 10+ rebounds
- Youngest with 10+ assists
- Youngest with 20+ points in a quarter
LeBron James will always be among the greats. His records were supposed to be untouchable for at least another generation. That’s what we told ourselves.
The System That Decides What’s Possible
Here’s where it gets interesting for me: the same pattern shows up everywhere, not just in sports.
Records are meant to be broken. We know this intellectually. But the systems we build, the narratives, the assumptions, the mental models, actively resist the idea that they will be. We build guardrails around what’s “realistic” or “possible” based on what’s already happened. Then we’re shocked when someone operates outside those boundaries.
Nobody was supposed to beat King James’s records this fast. Maine wasn’t supposed to produce a generational talent. A 19-year-old wasn’t supposed to drop 49 points and make it look easy. Funny how times have changed since the movie, White Men Can’t Jump.
I see this same dynamic in my work. When I talk to business owners about SEO strategies their previous agencies missed, or when I’m building SaaS products like Dynasty Notes or My MASH Card, the pushback isn’t usually about whether something can work, it’s about whether it’s “supposed to” work that way. The system says Google Analytics 4 is what you use, even if you hate it. The system says you need years of development before launching, even if user validation is what you actually need. The system says AI will replace creativity, even though it’s enabling creators to finally build exactly what they envision.
I created the Normacism framework specifically to examine this pattern: when we defend systems as neutral instead of examining them for their outcomes, we limit what we think is possible.
What Happens After the Record Falls
Cooper put in the work. Years of it. Today he’s seeing results that break models people spent decades building.
But what excites me most isn’t just that he broke the records, it’s that this is only the beginning. He’s 19. Whatever ceiling we think exists, he’s nowhere near it yet.
(Though I’ll admit, as a Massachusetts guy, I’m holding out hope the Mavericks fumble this like they did with Luka and somehow Cooper ends up with the Celtics. That would be epic.)
Maybe I’m feeling extra inspired after attending Day 1 of Tony Robbins’ Time To Rise Summit yesterday. Maybe it’s seeing someone more than half my age rewrite what’s “supposed to” happen. Maybe it’s the reminder that the boundaries we accept, in basketball, in business, in what’s possible with AI and imagination, are often just stories we tell ourselves about how things work.
I’m using AI to create music and make videos. I’m building apps and tools that bridge gaps I saw firsthand. I’m pushing my own boundaries the same way Cooper is pushing his.
The pattern is the same: identify where the system tells you what’s “supposed to” happen, then examine whether that system is actually serving the outcome you want.
The Question
So here’s what I’m sitting with: if a 19-year-old from Maine can rewrite NBA history before most people thought he’d even get drafted, what other systems are we defending as neutral that are actually just stories about what we think is possible?
Where else are we accepting boundaries not because they’re real, but because they’re familiar?
And what records, in business, creativity, technology, or whatever domain matters to you, are sitting there waiting for someone to stop accepting what’s “supposed to” happen and instead ask what could happen if the system worked differently?
If you’re ready to stop accepting the “supposed to” in your business and start building systems that actually drive the outcomes you want, in marketing, sales, visibility, or growth, let’s talk. This is what I do at MASH.
