Rivers was brought in midseason to turn the Bucks into a championship contender, replacing Adrian Griffin, who had the team at a 30-13 clip. With the Bucks struggling, the narrative is often that Rivers is failing to deliver. But is it really that simple? Or is it just that in the modern NBA players are too holy to touch so the coaching staff gets the blame all the time?
Roster Construction: An Aging Core with Limited Flexibility
The Bucks’ roster is built around two superstars, Giannis Antetokounmpo and Damian Lillard, both of whom are in their 30s. While Giannis remains a force of nature, averaging over 30 points per game this season most of his stats are worse than before and Lillard’s performance has been inconsistent. This isn’t a coaching issue; it’s a sign of a 34-year-old guard adjusting to a new system.
Beyond the stars, the supporting cast is aging and lacks the athleticism needed to keep up with younger, faster teams. Khris Middleton, another key piece, was sidelined with injury and then traded. Brook Lopez, now 36, is still a solid rim protector but struggles with mobility against quicker opponents. Bobby Portis and Pat Connaughton, both relied upon heavily, are also past their athletic primes and have seen their efficiency dip. This roster was constructed by the front office, not Rivers, and its flaws—age, lack of perimeter defence, and limited depth—were evident even before he arrived. It was the best they could get in an extremely competitive NBA trade scene.
The Midseason Hire Handicap
Rivers didn’t get a full training camp with this team. He was thrust into the head coaching role in January 2024, inheriting a squad that was already 30-13 but showing cracks under Griffin. Midseason coaching changes rarely lead to instant success because there’s no time to install a new system or build chemistry. Rivers went 17-19 in the regular season last year and lost in the first round to the Indiana Pacers, but injuries to Giannis, Lillard, and Middleton crippled the team in that series. This season, with a full offseason to prepare, the Bucks still face the same structural issues—issues Rivers didn’t create and can’t magically fix with Xs and Os alone.
Defensive Struggles Predate Rivers
One of the Bucks’ biggest problems this season has been their defense, ranking near the bottom of the league in points allowed per game. Critics point to Rivers’ outdated drop-coverage scheme as the culprit, arguing it leaves perimeter shooters open. But this defensive decline isn’t new. The Bucks traded away Jrue Holiday—their best perimeter defender—for Lillard before the 2023-2024 season, a move that prioritized offense over defense. Under Griffin, the Bucks had the league’s 4th easiest schedule and still ranked 19th in defensive rating. Rivers improved that to 11th after taking over, despite a tougher slate of opponents. The personnel simply doesn’t fit a switch-heavy, modern defense—Lillard and Lopez are liabilities against quick guards, and Rivers can only work with what he’s given.
The Offense: Talent, Not Scheme
Offensively, the Bucks have been abysmal, shooting just 34.6% from three as a team through five games. Rivers has been criticized for not maximizing the Giannis-Dame pick-and-roll, but the numbers tell a different story. When those two run the play, it’s effective—Giannis is nearly unguardable rolling to the rim, and Lillard can still hit pull-up threes when he’s on. The problem is execution and support. Lillard’s cold start and the lack of reliable shooters around the stars (Connaughton is at 26.3% from three, Portis at 28.6%) mean defenses can sag off and clog the paint. Rivers can draw up plays, but he can’t shoot the ball for his players.
The Bigger Picture: Organizational Decisions
The Bucks’ struggles are the result of a series of front-office gambles that haven’t panned out. Trading Holiday for Lillard was a win-now move that sacrificed defense and depth. Firing Mike Budenholzer, who led the team to a 2021 title, after one bad playoff run was a panic decision. Replacing him with Griffin, a rookie coach, and then pivoting to Rivers midseason reflects a lack of clear direction. Rivers isn’t blameless—he’s made questionable rotation choices, like leaning on veterans over younger players like AJ Green or Andre Jackson Jr.—but he’s not the architect of this mess. He’s a coach trying to navigate a flawed roster with sky-high expectations.
Conclusion: It’s More Than One Man
Doc Rivers has his flaws. His playoff track record is spotty, and his tendency to favor veterans over youth can be frustrating. But the Bucks’ current woes aren’t his fault alone. An aging roster, poor shooting, and a lack of defensive versatility are systemic issues that predate his arrival and would challenge any coach. Giannis is still a top-five player, and Lillard can turn it around, but the supporting cast and organizational strategy need a hard look. Blaming Rivers is easy, but it’s the Bucks’ front office—and the players’ execution—that hold the real keys to turning this season around. For now, Rivers is just the guy steering a ship that was leaking before he ever stepped on board.
Why Giannis Antetokounmpo Might Be Uncoachable
Not in the sense of being defiant or disrespectful, but in a more nuanced way—his game, his mentality, and his approach to basketball may inherently resist the kind of coaching that elevates other superstars. Here’s why.
The Stubbornness of a Self-Made Star
Giannis’ rise from a scrawny Greek prospect to global icon is a testament to his work ethic and self-belief. He wasn’t groomed in AAU circuits or polished by elite college programs—he built his game from scratch, fueled by raw talent and an obsessive desire to improve. That DIY ethos is his greatest strength, but it’s also a double-edged sword. When you’ve taught yourself to dominate through sheer will and physical gifts, it’s hard to accept that someone else—a coach—might know better.
Take his shooting, for example. Giannis’ jump shot has been a glaring weakness since day one, yet despite years of critique and countless offseason promises to “fix it,” the progress has been glacial. His three-point percentage hovers around 28-29% most seasons, and his midrange game remains unreliable. Coaches like Jason Kidd, Mike Budenholzer, and now Doc Rivers have surely drilled him on mechanics, footwork, and shot selection, but Giannis keeps reverting to what’s comfortable—driving to the rim or launching awkward, off-balance jumpers. It’s not laziness; it’s a stubborn adherence to his own process. He trusts his instincts over structured coaching, and while that’s gotten him this far, it’s also capped his evolution.
The Free-Throw Fiasco
Nothing exemplifies Giannis’ uncoachability more than his free-throw routine. His agonizingly slow, 10-second wind-up—complete with multiple dribbles and a deep-breath ritual—has been a punchline for years, often drawing countdowns from opposing crowds. It’s also a liability: he’s a career 70% free-throw shooter, dipping to 61% in the 2021 playoffs (albeit with a clutch Finals performance). Coaches have undoubtedly tried to streamline this—simplify the motion, speed it up, anything to make it less of a mental hurdle. Yet Giannis sticks to it, defiantly so, even as it costs him and the Bucks in tight games. When Budenholzer was asked about it, he’d deflect with vague platitudes about Giannis’ work ethic, but the subtext was clear: Giannis does what Giannis wants.
This isn’t just quirkiness—it’s a refusal to adapt. Great players tweak their habits under coaching guidance. Kobe Bryant refined his shot with Phil Jackson; LeBron James overhauled his jumper with Chris Jent. Giannis, by contrast, seems to view coaching input as a suggestion, not a directive. His free-throw struggles aren’t a lack of talent—they’re a symptom of a player too entrenched in his own head to let a coach pull him out. And due to his severely lacking social skills he doesn’t train with other NBA superstars in the summer.
A Game That Defies Systems
Giannis’ playing style is another hurdle. He’s a one-man wrecking crew—6’11” with a 7’3” wingspan, explosive speed, and relentless aggression. He thrives in transition, bulldozing to the rim or Euro-stepping past defenders. It’s breathtaking when it works, but it’s also chaotic. Unlike, say, Kevin Durant, whose game fits seamlessly into any offensive scheme, Giannis’ dominance relies on space and momentum—things a coach can’t always manufacture. When the game slows down, as it does in the playoffs, his lack of polish (shooting, post moves, off-ball play) gets exposed, and no Bucks coach has fully solved that puzzle.
Mike Budenholzer took heat for Milwaukee’s playoff failures before 2021, often blamed for rigid schemes that didn’t maximize Giannis. But was it all Bud’s fault? Giannis’ freelancing—charging into triple-teams or hesitating on open looks—often undermined those systems. The 2021 title run succeeded because Jrue Holiday and Khris Middleton bailed him out with timely playmaking and shot creation, not because Giannis suddenly became a cog in a well-oiled machine. Doc Rivers’ tenure has been bumpier still, with Giannis’ turnovers and late-game decisions fueling Milwaukee’s inconsistency. A coachable star adapts to the system; Giannis forces the system to adapt to him.
The Ego of Greatness
Then there’s the mentality. Giannis is famously humble off the court—cracking dad jokes and shunning the spotlight—but on it, he’s an alpha with an unshakable belief in his own path. That’s not a knock; confidence is what makes him elite. But it can clash with coaching authority. When he brushed off playoff losses with lines like “I don’t care” or “it’s just basketball,” it hinted at a player who doesn’t dwell on setbacks—or, perhaps, doesn’t fully heed the lessons coaches try to impart. His “I did it the right way” narrative after the 2021 title further suggests he sees his journey as self-directed, not a product of collaborative coaching. He disregards the coach and explains his own plays to the team. It’s pathetic!
Compare that to other greats. Tim Duncan, the ultimate coachable superstar, let Gregg Popovich mold him into a two-way anchor. Even LeBron, for all his clout, has bent to Erik Spoelstra’s or Ty Lue’s vision when needed. Giannis, though? He’s more like Shaq—unstoppable on his terms, but resistant to anyone reshaping his game. Shaq never needed a jumper because he was Shaq; Giannis doesn’t think he needs one either, even when the evidence (like the 2023 Miami upset) says otherwise.
The Bucks’ Coaching Carousel
Milwaukee’s revolving door of coaches—Kidd, Budenholzer, Rivers—might reflect this tension. Kidd couldn’t harness Giannis’ raw potential into playoff success. Budenholzer got the title but was criticized for not adjusting enough to Giannis’ limitations. Rivers, a veteran voice, has struggled to impose structure on a Giannis-led squad that often looks disjointed. Sure, front-office decisions and roster flaws play a role, but the common thread is Giannis’ singular style and mindset. A truly coachable star makes any system work; Giannis makes coaches bend to his will, for better or worse.
Conclusion: A Titan Too Big to Tame
Giannis Antetokounmpo isn’t uncoachable in the toxic, locker-room-cancer sense. He’s not clashing with coaches or tanking practices. He’s a hard worker, a team-first guy, and a joy to watch. But his game and psyche—forged in his own image, resistant to refinement—suggest a player who’s reached the mountaintop largely on his terms. That’s inspiring, but it’s also limiting. To call him uncoachable isn’t an insult—it’s an observation of a player too self-reliant to fully surrender to a coach’s vision. The Bucks might never build a dynasty unless Giannis lets someone else steer the ship, even just a little. Until then, he’ll remain a maddening enigma for every coach who tries to guide him.
