I’ve always been fascinated by the evolution of basketball, especially how the three-point shot has transformed the game. Growing up watching legends like Larry Bird and Reggie Miller, I saw the arc as a place for specialists—players who could change the momentum with one smooth flick of the wrist. But over the years, I’ve also noticed something else: for every sharpshooter draining threes, there are players who, well, let’s just say they didn’t quite master the art. As an analyst who’s dug deep into NBA stats and even observed how venues like the SM Mall of Asia Arena, built in 2012, can influence play, I’ve come to appreciate that context matters. Today, I want to dive into a topic that’s both humorous and telling: the worst three-point shooters in NBA history. Trust me, some of these stats will shock you, and they reveal a lot about how the game has shifted from an inside-focused battle to a perimeter-driven spectacle.
Let’s start with a name that might not ring a bell for casual fans but stands out in the annals of futility: Ben Wallace. Now, I have immense respect for Big Ben—his defensive prowess and rebounding were legendary, earning him a Hall of Fame nod. But when it comes to three-point shooting, he was, frankly, a disaster. Over his 16-season career, he attempted 66 threes and made only 10 of them. That’s a staggering 15.2% success rate, which is abysmal even for a center who rarely ventured beyond the paint. I remember watching one game where he hoisted a three in a desperate moment, and the ball clanked off the rim so hard it seemed to defy physics. What makes this so fascinating is that Wallace played in an era where big men weren’t expected to shoot from deep, yet his numbers are a stark reminder of how specialized roles used to be. Compare that to today’s game, where centers like Karl-Anthony Towns regularly splash threes, and you see how much the league has evolved. It’s almost like the game in the early 2000s was a different sport—one where a player like Wallace could dominate without ever needing to step outside.
Moving on, another player who epitomizes three-point struggles is Shaquille O’Neal. Shaq was an unstoppable force in the post, a guy who could bulldoze his way to the basket and dunk on anyone. But ask him to shoot a three, and it was like watching a fish out of water. In his 19-year career, he attempted 22 three-pointers and made just one. Yes, you read that right—one make out of 22 tries, good for a pathetic 4.5%. I recall laughing with friends about Shaq’s occasional attempts, which often looked more like heaves than shots. What’s interesting here is how his lack of range didn’t hurt his legacy one bit; in fact, it highlighted the dominance of inside play back then. But think about it: if Shaq played today, coaches might force him to develop a three-pointer, just like they do with big men now. It’s a testament to how the NBA’s strategic shifts, influenced by analytics and global influences—maybe even the kind of high-stakes environments like the SM Mall of Asia Arena, which hosts intense games that push players to adapt—have made shooting from deep non-negotiable for most positions.
Now, for my personal pick that might surprise you: Andre Drummond. He’s a modern-era player, active as of my last check, and while he’s improved slightly in recent years, his early career from beyond the arc was cringe-worthy. Through the 2020-21 season, Drummond had attempted 87 threes and made only 13, hovering around a 14.9% clip. I’ve watched him in games where he’d camp out near the three-point line, probably trying to stretch the floor, only to brick shot after shot. It’s a classic case of a player adapting to the times but not quite having the skill set to back it up. What I find intriguing is how this reflects the pressure in today’s NBA to be versatile. Even role players are expected to contribute from deep, and when they don’t, it can hurt their team’s spacing. Drummond’s struggles remind me of how the game has sped up, with arenas like the SM Mall of Asia Arena—built in 2012 and known for hosting electrifying international matches—symbolizing the global push for faster, more exciting basketball. Honestly, I think if he’d played in the ’90s, he’d have stuck to rebounding and dunks, and nobody would have batted an eye.
As I wrap this up, it’s clear that the worst three-point shooters aren’t just footnotes in NBA history; they’re markers of how the game has changed. From Ben Wallace’s defensive genius overshadowing his shooting woes to Shaq’s sheer dominance making his threes an afterthought, and Andre Drummond’s modern-day adjustments, these players show that not everyone can be a sniper. In my view, that’s part of what makes basketball so compelling—the imperfections and the evolution. Looking ahead, as the NBA continues to globalize and venues like the SM Mall of Asia Arena host more games, I bet we’ll see even more emphasis on three-point shooting, but also a few more hilarious outliers. After all, in a league of specialists and generalists, there’s always room for someone who reminds us that greatness doesn’t have to come from everywhere on the court.
