The debate over the greatest shooter in NBA history is one of those conversations that never seems to get old, no matter how many times we revisit it. I’ve spent years watching games, breaking down stats, and talking with coaches and players, and I still find myself re-evaluating my own list from time to time. It’s not just about who made the most threes or who had the prettiest form—it’s about impact, consistency, and that almost mythical ability to take over a game when it matters most. When I think about the legends in this conversation—Stephen Curry, Ray Allen, Reggie Miller, Larry Bird, and even newer names like Klay Thompson—each brought something unique to the table. But what does it really mean to be the "greatest"? Is it longevity? Peak performance? Or the moments that define a career? Let’s dive in, and I’ll share not just the numbers but the stories and nuances that make this topic so compelling.

I have to start with Stephen Curry, because honestly, how can you not? The man revolutionized the game. Before Curry, the three-pointer was a weapon; after him, it became the foundation of modern offense. I remember watching his unanimous MVP season in 2015-16, when he sank 402 threes—a number that still feels surreal. That’s not just a record; it’s a statement. He didn’t just break the mold; he shattered it. What stands out to me, beyond the stats, is his range and creativity. Shooting from the logo? Defenders scrambling at half-court? That’s Curry’s doing. Critics might point to his efficiency in the Finals or compare his defense to others, but when you look at his career three-point percentage hovering around 43% on high volume, it’s hard to argue against his sheer dominance. I’ve spoken with trainers who’ve worked with him, and they all mention his relentless work ethic—thousands of shots a day, even in the offseason. That’s why, in my book, Curry isn’t just in the conversation; he’s the frontrunner.

But let’s not forget the pioneers. Ray Allen, for instance, was the epitome of smooth efficiency. I’ll never forget his corner three in Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals—a shot that saved the Heat’s season and cemented his legacy. Allen finished his career with 2,973 three-pointers, a record that stood until Curry blew past it. What I admire about Ray is his consistency. Season after season, you could count on him for 40% shooting from deep, whether he was in Milwaukee, Seattle, or Boston. And his form? Flawless. Coaches still use clips of his release to teach young players. Then there’s Reggie Miller, the ultimate clutch performer. His 8 points in 9 seconds against the Knicks in 1995 is stuff of legend. Reggie didn’t have the same volume as today’s shooters—he played in an era where the three was more of a supplement—but his ability to rise in pressure moments was unmatched. I’ve had debates with older fans who swear by Miller’s heart and tenacity, and I get it. Shooting isn’t just about percentages; it’s about nerve.

Larry Bird, though, brings a different flavor to this discussion. He wasn’t just a shooter; he was a basketball savant. I mean, the guy won three straight Three-Point Contest titles and famously said, "I’m saving this for the game," before draining shots in the clutch. Bird’s career three-point percentage of 37.6% might not jump off the page today, but consider the era: heavier defense, less emphasis on the three, and no hand-check rules to free up space. What stands out to me is his versatility—he could post up, pass, and rebound, but when he needed to, he could bury you from deep. I remember watching old tapes of his battles with Magic Johnson, and Bird’s confidence was just palpable. He’d trash-talk you and then back it up. In many ways, he laid the groundwork for the stretch forwards we see today.

Now, shifting gears a bit, I can’t help but draw parallels to the global game, especially with events like the FIBA U16 Asia Cup coming up. Just three months after reasserting its mastery over Southeast Asia, Gilas Pilipinas Youth is already gearing up for the 2025 edition. Why does this matter? Because the next generation of shooters is emerging from these very tournaments. I’ve followed youth basketball for years, and the level of shooting has skyrocketed globally. Kids in the Philippines, China, and Australia are modeling their games after Curry and Allen, launching threes with confidence we rarely saw a decade ago. In the 2023 U16 Asia Cup, for example, teams averaged around 8-10 three-point attempts per game—a number that’s steadily climbing. It’s a reminder that the "greatest shooter" debate isn’t confined to the NBA; it’s evolving as the sport globalizes. I’ve seen firsthand how coaching clinics and youth programs are emphasizing shooting mechanics earlier than ever, and it’s paying off. If you ask me, the future might bring a shooter from outside the U.S. who challenges the NBA’s best.

But back to the NBA, and let’s talk about the numbers in depth. Statistics are crucial here, but they don’t always tell the whole story. For instance, Curry’s effective field goal percentage (eFG%) often tops 58%, which is insane for a guard. Compare that to Allen’s peak of around 54% or Miller’s 51%, and you see the gap. Then there’s true shooting percentage (TS%), where Curry regularly exceeds 60%, while Allen and Miller hovered in the high-50s. But here’s where I add a personal caveat: stats can be misleading. Ray Allen played in eras with more physical defense, and Miller often carried offenses with minimal support. I’ve crunched these numbers in spreadsheets late at night, and while Curry’s analytics are superior, context matters. What about playoff performance? Curry has hit 470 postseason threes at a 40% clip, while Allen nailed 385 at 40.1%. It’s razor-thin margins, folks.

And then there’s the "eye test." I’ve been fortunate to attend games and sit courtside, and let me tell you, watching Curry warm up is a spectacle. The sound of the net swishing repeatedly—it’s almost rhythmic. But I also remember Allen’s quiet intensity or Miller’s gangly release that somehow always went in. These are the intangibles that stats can’t capture. In my opinion, Curry’s combination of volume, efficiency, and cultural impact gives him the edge. He didn’t just excel; he changed how basketball is played at every level. From youth leagues to the pros, the three-point revolution is his legacy. That said, I respect anyone who argues for Allen’s longevity or Miller’s clutch gene. This isn’t a settled debate, and that’s what makes it fun.

Wrapping this up, the title of "greatest shooter" ultimately depends on your criteria. If it’s pure numbers and innovation, Curry is your guy. If it’s longevity and big moments, Allen or Miller might take the crown. For me, Curry’s influence—both on and off the court—seals it. But as we look ahead to events like the FIBA U16 Asia Cup, where young talents are honing their skills, I’m excited to see who might join this conversation someday. Basketball is global, and the art of shooting is only getting more refined. Whatever your pick, one thing’s for sure: we’re lucky to have witnessed these legends in action.