As I sit here scrolling through basketball statistics late at night, I can't help but marvel at the sheer volume of shots attempted throughout NBA history. You know, we often celebrate the incredible shooters—the Steph Currys and Ray Allens of the world—but today I want to explore the other side of that coin. The players who've missed more shots than anyone else in basketball history. Now, before you dismiss this as some kind of negative analysis, let me tell you why this topic fascinates me. Having followed basketball for over two decades, I've come to understand that missing shots isn't necessarily a bad thing—in fact, the greatest scorers in history are almost always the ones who miss the most. They're the players with the green light, the ones trusted to shoot even when they're cold, and that confidence speaks volumes about their value to their teams.
When we talk about missed shots, we're really talking about volume shooters who carried their teams' offenses for years. The current record holder is none other than LeBron James, who's missed approximately 14,400 field goals throughout his legendary career. Now, that number might sound staggering, but consider this—he's also made over 13,500 shots. That's the thing about these high-volume shooters: their misses come with incredible makes. Kobe Bryant, who I personally consider one of the most fearless shooters I've ever watched, missed around 14,481 shots during his career. What many people don't realize is that Kobe's willingness to take difficult, contested shots—even when he was having an off night—created opportunities for his teammates and stretched defenses in ways that don't show up in traditional statistics. I remember watching his 81-point game and thinking how remarkable it was that he kept shooting despite missing 18 shots that night. That's the mentality that separates good scorers from all-time greats.
The conversation about missed shots inevitably leads us to John Havlicek, who missed approximately 13,417 shots during his era when the game was played at a different pace. What's fascinating to me is how the context of these misses matters tremendously. In today's analytics-driven NBA, coaches might bench players for taking too many contested mid-range jumpers, but throughout most of basketball history, the best players were encouraged to shoot their way out of slumps. This reminds me of that quote from coach Pineda: "Gawin na muna niya 'yung appeal. Ang importante, makiusap muna sa both Phoenix and board." While this was said in a different context, the philosophy translates beautifully to basketball—sometimes you just have to make your case through action, appealing to the game itself by continuing to shoot, negotiating with the basketball gods through persistence. That's exactly what these high-volume shooters did night after night.
Michael Jordan, my personal favorite player of all time, missed about 12,345 shots during his regular season career. People often forget that His Airness had plenty of off nights—he just never let them affect his confidence. I've studied countless hours of Jordan's games, and what struck me was his unwavering commitment to taking the big shots regardless of how many he'd missed previously. That mentality created a ripple effect throughout his teams—when your best player isn't afraid to fail, everyone plays with more freedom. The same can be said for Karl Malone, who missed approximately 12,682 shots despite being known for his efficiency. Malone's misses often came from his relentless attacks on the basket, wearing down defenders through constant physical pressure.
Now, here's something that might surprise casual fans: Russell Westbrook currently sits among the top players in missed shots with around 9,800 misses and counting. As someone who's watched Westbrook's entire career unfold, I've always admired his fearless approach, even when it leads to inefficient shooting nights. His triple-double seasons were built on this willingness to take responsibility for the offense, misses and all. Similarly, Dirk Nowitzki missed approximately 11,035 shots throughout his career, but those misses were essential to his development of the unstoppable fadeaway jumper that defined his game. I remember speaking with a shooting coach who worked with Dirk early in his career, and he mentioned that they never focused on the misses—they focused on the quality of the attempts and the learning that came from each miss.
The evolution of the NBA's relationship with missed shots tells a compelling story about how basketball philosophy has changed. In the 90s, when I first fell in love with the game, missed shots were seen as the cost of doing business for your primary scorers. Today, with advanced analytics measuring true shooting percentage and effective field goal percentage, there's more scrutiny on shot selection. Still, the names at the top of the missed shots list remain the all-time greats, which tells me something important about basketball: greatness requires the courage to fail repeatedly. When I look at players like Carmelo Anthony (approximately 10,200 misses) or Allen Iverson (around 9,865 misses), I see artists who needed to take those shots to find their rhythm, to establish their presence on the court.
As we consider these staggering numbers—Kobe's 14,481 misses, LeBron's 14,400 and counting—it's worth reflecting on what they represent beyond simple statistics. Each missed shot tells a story of a player who had the confidence to try, the resilience to shrug off failure, and the determination to take the next shot with the same conviction as the first. In my years of analyzing basketball, I've come to believe that we should celebrate these missed shots almost as much as the makes, because they represent the growth process of every great scorer. The next time you watch a game and see your favorite player miss a tough shot, remember that they're in good company—the company of legends who understood that you can't make history without being willing to miss first.
