I still remember watching that 2016 Warriors-Thunder game like it was yesterday. Steph Curry was having what seemed like an ordinary night by his standards—until the fourth quarter, when he decided to rewrite the record books. The way he moved off the ball, the lightning-quick release, the sheer audacity to pull up from 30 feet with the game on the line—it was basketball poetry. That night, Golden State made 24 three-pointers, setting a new NBA record that would stand for several years. But what fascinates me most isn't just the number itself, but how we got here, to a point where teams regularly attempt shots that would have gotten players benched just two decades ago.
The evolution of the three-point shot reads like a revolution in slow motion. When the NBA introduced the three-point line in 1979, teams averaged less than three attempts per game. Fast forward to today, and we're seeing teams regularly launch over 40 threes per contest. I've always been fascinated by this statistical explosion, particularly how it reflects basketball's analytical transformation. The math is simple really—three points are worth more than two—but it took organizations years to fully embrace this reality. The Houston Rockets under Daryl Morey were pioneers in this space, famously avoiding mid-range shots almost entirely in favor of threes and layups. Their analytical approach demonstrated what many traditionalists refused to acknowledge: efficiency wins basketball games.
When the Milwaukee Bucks broke the Warriors' record in 2020 with 29 three-pointers against Miami, I found myself analyzing the shot distribution charts for hours. What struck me wasn't just the volume, but the variety—corner threes, above-the-break threes, transition threes, pull-ups off screens. The Bucks made 29 of 51 attempts that night, an astonishing 56.9% clip that speaks to both shot quality and sheer hot-handedness. As someone who's studied shooting mechanics for years, I can tell you that achieving that percentage on that volume is like pitching a perfect game in baseball—it requires both skill and some favorable variance. The Bucks had seven different players make at least two threes that game, illustrating how the modern NBA offense has become a symphony of spacing and ball movement rather than relying on one or two elite shooters.
This reminds me of something Carlos once said about experiencing the same misfortunes twice being a 'complicated' ordeal that demanded staying the course amid personal frustrations. I see parallels in how teams approach three-point shooting today. When a player goes 0-for-7 from deep in a playoff game, the temptation to abandon the strategy must be overwhelming. Yet the best organizations—the Warriors, Rockets, Celtics—maintain their conviction because the math ultimately favors the process over small-sample outcomes. I've personally witnessed coaches struggling with this dilemma during shooting slumps, fighting the urge to revert to traditional two-point heavy offenses despite knowing that modern basketball rewards three-point volume.
The individual record tells an even more remarkable story. When Klay Thompson made 14 threes in a single game against Chicago in 2018, I was covering that game as a media member. What impressed me wasn't just the final number, but how he achieved it—minimal dribbling, quick releases, and relentless movement without the ball. Thompson took only 11 dribbles total on his 14 made threes that night, a statistic that still boggles my mind. His performance demonstrated the pinnacle of catch-and-shoot excellence, a skill that has become increasingly valuable in today's pace-and-space era. As someone who values efficient movement and economy of action, I consider Thompson's performance that night perhaps the purest shooting display I've ever witnessed.
The tactical evolution behind these records reveals how basketball intelligence has developed alongside athleticism. When I talk to coaches today, they emphasize creating "three-point opportunities" rather than just "open shots." There's a nuanced difference—the former involves specific floor spacing, defensive manipulation, and pass anticipation that simply didn't exist decades ago. The great shooting teams don't just have good shooters; they have offensive systems designed to generate high-value three-point looks through player movement, spacing, and quick decision-making. The 2021 Utah Jazz, who made 28 threes in a game against Charlotte, exemplified this with their five-out offensive sets that stretched defenses to their breaking points.
What often gets overlooked in these record-breaking performances is the defensive sacrifice. To generate that volume of three-point attempts, teams essentially abandon the mid-range game entirely. I've charted games where teams took fewer than five mid-range jumpers while attempting over 50 threes—a strategic tradeoff that would have been unthinkable during the Michael Jordan era. This stylistic shift hasn't come without criticism, and I'll admit sometimes I miss the aesthetic diversity of 1990s basketball. But from a competitive standpoint, it's impossible to argue with the results. The teams that embrace the three-point revolution most fully tend to occupy the top spots in offensive efficiency rankings year after year.
Looking forward, I'm convinced we haven't seen the ceiling for three-point shooting in the NBA. With players entering the league having practiced threes from childhood and offensive systems increasingly optimized for long-range efficiency, I wouldn't be surprised to see a team break 30 threes in a game within the next two seasons. The mathematical advantage is simply too significant to ignore, and as shooting technique continues to evolve, we may see percentages climb alongside volume. While some traditionalists lament the changes, I find this evolution thrilling—it represents basketball embracing analytical thinking while still requiring extraordinary skill execution. The three-point revolution has fundamentally changed how basketball is played and won, and these record-breaking performances serve as milestones in that ongoing transformation.