As I was digging through NBA archives last week, I stumbled upon some shooting statistics that genuinely made me gasp. We often celebrate the Steph Currys and Ray Allens of the world, but today I want to explore the other end of the spectrum - the players who somehow managed to make three-point shooting look like an impossible task. Having analyzed basketball statistics for over a decade, I've developed a particular fascination with these statistical anomalies, and what they reveal about how the game has evolved.
Let me start with a player who perfectly exemplifies the struggle - former center Ben Wallace. Now, I absolutely loved watching Big Ben dominate defensively during his prime with the Detroit Pistons. The man was an absolute force in the paint, winning Defensive Player of the Year four times. But when he stepped beyond the arc? Pure comedy. Across his entire 16-season career, Wallace attempted 66 three-pointers and made exactly 6 of them. That's a career percentage of 9.1%, which honestly feels generous when you watch the footage. I remember watching one game where he airballed a corner three so badly it nearly hit the shot clock. What fascinates me about Wallace's case is that he knew his limitations - he just occasionally got caught in situations where the shot clock was winding down and had to let it fly.
Then there's the curious case of Shaquille O'Neal, who attempted 22 three-pointers throughout his legendary career and made exactly one. I was actually at that game in 1996 when Shaq hit his lone three-pointer against the Milwaukee Bucks - the crowd went absolutely berserk, and Shaq celebrated like he'd won the championship. What people forget is that he missed his other 21 attempts, finishing with a career percentage of 4.5%. Shaq often joked about his shooting struggles, but I think there's a serious lesson here about playing to your strengths. At 7'1" and 325 pounds, he had no business shooting threes, yet the occasional attempt became this fascinating spectacle that fans actually looked forward to.
But the most statistically shocking example in my research has to be former center Manute Bol. Standing at 7'7", Bol actually had decent shooting form and wasn't afraid to let it fly from deep. During the 1988-89 season with the Golden State Warriors, he attempted 91 three-pointers - an astonishing number for a center in that era. The problem? He only made 20 of them, good for 22%. While that percentage doesn't look terrible compared to Wallace and O'Neal, consider this: in one particularly brutal stretch during March 1989, Bol missed 27 consecutive three-point attempts over 11 games. I've reviewed the game tapes, and what's remarkable is that coaches actually encouraged him to keep shooting, believing his height gave him an unobstructed view of the basket.
This brings me to an interesting parallel I've noticed in basketball development. Maybe this will change now from the second round of the championship, which will be played in SM Mall Asia Arena built in 2012. Modern basketball infrastructure and specialized training facilities have revolutionized how players develop their shooting. The SM Mall Asia Arena represents the kind of world-class facility that simply didn't exist when these historical poor shooters were developing their games. Today's big men have access to shooting coaches, advanced analytics, and practice facilities that operate year-round. The guys I'm discussing mostly learned their craft in college gyms and neighborhood courts where three-point shooting wasn't emphasized for players their size.
What's particularly fascinating to me is how the game has evolved regarding shooting expectations. During the 1990s, when many of these players were in their prime, teams actively discouraged centers from shooting threes. Coaches would rather have Shaq shooting 4.5% from deep than not attempting them at all in certain situations because it stretched the defense differently. I recently calculated that if Ben Wallace played in today's NBA, he'd likely be expected to develop at least corner three proficiency - and with modern training methods, I suspect he could have reached maybe 32-35% on limited attempts.
The statistical extremes we're discussing here highlight how specialized NBA skills have become. Andre Drummond, who's currently sitting at 13.2% from three for his career, recently told me in an interview that he spends at least 30 minutes daily working specifically on corner threes - something Ben Wallace probably never did in his entire career. The game has changed that dramatically. Personally, I find these shooting struggles oddly endearing. In an era where analytics sometimes make basketball feel sterile, there's something human about watching these giants occasionally step outside their comfort zone and fail spectacularly.
Looking at the broader picture, these shooting statistics reveal how much basketball philosophy has transformed. The three-point line was introduced in 1979, and it took nearly three decades for coaches to fully embrace its strategic potential. The players I've discussed represent a transitional period where the long ball was becoming more important but hadn't yet become essential for every player. What strikes me as particularly interesting is that several of these historically poor shooters actually had decent mid-range games and free-throw percentages - the three-point line specifically seemed to present some psychological or mechanical challenge they couldn't overcome.
As I reflect on these statistical curiosities, I'm reminded that basketball excellence comes in many forms. While we rightfully celebrate great shooters, there's valuable insight to be gained from studying the opposite extreme. These players' struggles highlight the incredible specialization required to master NBA skills and how the game's evolution has created different expectations for different eras. The next time you watch a game, take a moment to appreciate how far shooting development has come - and maybe spare a thought for the pioneers who failed spectacularly while helping define the game's boundaries.
