Marksmen realize that the jumpshot is the most important part of the game of basketball.  They value offense more than defense - realizing that the team that scores the most points always wins the game.  Therefore, in many ways, the game revolves around them and their artistry.  They believe defense is played to give them another chance to display their craft.  Apparently, dancers, cheerleaders and fans congregate to watch them shoot.  It seems that excitement, itself, resides on the offensive end of the court.  Rule makers must really appreciate jumpshots; they award three points for long-range missiles that hit their target.  This shooter’s mentality is interwoven with the unyielding confidence that produces the world’s greatest shooters.

Confidence, the most vital component of a shooter’s mentality, peaks when the shooter gets “hot” or goes into a “zone.”  At this time, the subconscious mind takes over and the ball “shoots itself.”  The shooter doesn’t even remember shooting the ball.  He is on “cruise control.”  The basket expands threefold as the defense evaporates.  Not only is the shooter in rhythm with the game, he is in rhythm with the universe.  The question that everyone, including the shooter, asks is, “How does one get to the zone?”  Let me explain.

Confidence develops by seeing the ball go in the basket.  Successful repetitions reinforce certainty.  Therefore, shooters start their practices by shooting from close range.  Rarely, do they ever shoot out of their range or take shots which have very little chance of going in the basket.  Shooters expect success and do not understand why anyone would doubt them.  They develop sayings such as: “There are three things you can be sure of - death, taxes and my jumper,” and “If my jumper doesn’t go in, then grits ain’t grocery.”

Shooters wish that every game was played with the understanding that “the team that lives by the jumper, dies by the jumper.”  To them, this saying is a prescription for eternal life, because their jumper is forever good.  Going a step further, I even decided to give my jumpshot a name.  If BB King had such a close relationship with his guitar that he named it “Lucille,” then, I who spent countless Saturday nights alone with my jumpshot, could also name it.  I, with the help of my sister, Teresa Glenn, a historian, named my shot, Candace, after great female Ethiopian rulers who reigned during the time of Alexander the Great.  I had so much confidence in Candace that I developed my  shooter’s philosophy which is - The Next Shot Goes In.

I teach young shooters to develop enough confidence in their shot that they can believe this philosophy regardless of conclusions that may seem apparent to everyone else in the arena.  Even if they miss ten shots in a row, they should firmly believe that the next shot is going in.  Even if the coach is mad and everyone in the arena is booing, the shooter must believe that the next shot goes in.  May I share a little of my experience?

In 1981, I left the New York Knicks as their field goal percentage leader, .557, and free throw percentage leader, .904, to join the Atlanta Hawks.  In Atlanta, I took advantage of the opportunity to work out individually with Lou Hudson, one of the great jump shooters in NBA history and one of my personal heroes.  After a week of workouts, Hudson said to me, “You shoot the ball better than anyone who has ever played the game.” He spent a lot of time counseling me on new ways to create more opportunities to shoot.

Hudson obviously understands the importance of confidence for shooters.  He also gave me new ideas on selling your belief in yourself to teammates, fans, and coaches.  He advised me to befriend passers, screeners and even other scorers.  Everyone had to believe in me and my ability to shoot the ball.  In his personal career, he gave me examples of his convincing “Pistol Pete” Maravich to pass him the ball.  Hudson convinced Jim Washington to screen for him and Walt Bellamy to look for him on the perimeter.  All of these relationships were built upon the”sweet” jumpshot of Lou Hudson.  After working with Hudson, my confidence and efficiency grew.  Here I was a man with an earned nickname, “Stinger,” my shot almost always stung the nets, and a name for my jumpshot, who still improved his shooting through new techniques and more confidence.  My shooting percentage in Atlanta climbed to a franchise high of .588.

Knowledgeable fans have come to realize that a shooter must shoot.  If coaches want a different action, they should remove the shooter from the game.  A shooter without confidence is not a shooter.

Look for me later.  I will be open on the wing with my feet set.  You will surely get an assist!