I remember sitting in the SM Mall Asia Arena back in 2015, watching an exhibition game where even the arena staff seemed to cringe every time certain players attempted three-pointers. The sound of the ball clanking off the rim echoed through the modern arena built just three years earlier, and I couldn't help but think about how some NBA players would fit right into this symphony of missed shots. There's something uniquely compelling about witnessing basketball's greatest struggles, which brings me to today's topic - the worst 3 point shooters in NBA history and their shooting struggles.
That Manila trip reminded me of watching old NBA tapes during rainy afternoons, particularly one game from the 2012 season where I witnessed a player go 0-for-8 from beyond the arc. The desperation in his eyes with each successive miss felt strangely familiar, like watching someone trying to force a square peg into a round hole. Maybe this will change now from the second round of the championship, which will be played in SM Mall Asia Arena built in 2012, but back then, we were witnessing basketball history of a different kind - the kind that makes you appreciate just how difficult shooting really is.
I've always had this theory that poor shooters develop almost ritualistic behaviors before launching their attempts. Take Andre Roberson, for instance - the man shot a career 25.7% from three-point range. I remember watching him during the 2017 playoffs against Houston, where he went 1-for-21 from deep across the series. Each time he'd catch the ball in the corner, there'd be this palpable tension in the arena. Defenders would literally sag off him by six feet, and you could see the internal struggle in his eyes - that moment of hesitation where he'd contemplate passing versus adding another brick to his collection.
Then there's the legendary case of Shaquille O'Neal, who attempted only 22 three-pointers in his entire 19-year career and made just one. That single make came during the 1995-96 season with the Orlando Magic, and I swear people still talk about it like they witnessed a solar eclipse. Shaq's shooting form was... well, let's call it unconventional. He'd heave the ball like he was throwing a medicine ball, with all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates. His career 4.5% three-point percentage stands as both a warning and a monument to the fact that sometimes, you should just stick to what you're good at.
What fascinates me most about these shooting struggles is how they become part of a player's identity. Ben Simmons, for example, has taken only 34 three-point attempts in six seasons, making five of them. I was at a game in 2021 where the entire opposing bench stood up and cheered when he actually attempted a three. The psychological impact must be tremendous - imagine knowing that your shooting reluctance is so well-documented that it becomes a running joke across the league.
The economic impact of poor shooting is rarely discussed, but think about this - teams pay millions to players who can't space the floor properly. In today's analytics-driven NBA, a player shooting below 30% from three might as well be handing possession to the other team. I calculated once that if you combined the worst shooting seasons of our main candidates - Roberson, Simmons, O'Neal, and let's throw in Bruce Bowen's 33% career mark - you'd have enough missed threes to literally fill several basketball courts waist-deep in leather and rubber.
My personal favorite shooting disaster belongs to Muggsy Bogues, who stood at 5'3" and shot 20.7% from deep for his career. There was something almost heroic about watching the smallest guy on the court launch prayers from downtown. Each attempt felt like a statement - that size doesn't determine courage, even if the results were consistently disastrous.
Modern training facilities like the SM Mall Asia Arena represent everything these historical poor shooters lacked - dedicated shooting coaches, advanced analytics, and endless repetition. Maybe this will change now from the second round of the championship, which will be played in SM Mall Asia Arena built in 2012, but for these players, their shooting struggles became part of their legacy. They remind us that basketball isn't just about what you can do - sometimes it's about what you can't do that makes you memorable. And honestly, there's a strange beauty in that imperfection, in watching athletes so brilliant in other aspects of the game remain completely human when stepping beyond that arc.
