I still remember watching Stephen Curry sink his 402nd three-pointer back in 2016, thinking I'd witnessed something that would stand for decades. Little did I know we were just at the beginning of basketball's long-range revolution. The evolution of the three-point shot has fundamentally transformed how the game is played at the professional level, and as someone who's studied NBA trends for over fifteen years, I've never seen a statistical category evolve so rapidly. What was once considered a gimmick shot has become the cornerstone of modern offensive schemes, with teams constantly pushing the boundaries of what's possible from beyond the arc.
When we talk about record-breaking three-point shooters, the conversation naturally begins with Curry's monumental 2015-16 season. That year, he didn't just break the record—he shattered it, surpassing his own previous mark of 286 by an almost unbelievable 116 three-pointers. The way he achieved this was through a combination of unprecedented volume and efficiency, attempting an average of 11.2 threes per game while maintaining a 45.4% success rate. I've analyzed thousands of games, and what struck me most wasn't just the number itself, but how he did it—pulling up from distances that coaches would have benched players for attempting just a decade earlier. His performance that season felt like watching someone rewrite the rules of basketball physics in real time.
The ripple effects of Curry's season are still being felt across the league today. We're now seeing multiple players each season threatening what would have been unthinkable numbers just a few years ago. James Harden's 2018-19 campaign comes to mind, where he knocked down 378 threes while shouldering an enormous offensive load for the Rockets. What impressed me about Harden's approach was how different it was from Curry's—less about movement and more about creating separation through isolation plays. This diversity in how players achieve these numbers fascinates me, showing there's no single blueprint for three-point excellence in today's NBA.
Looking at the current landscape, I'm convinced we'll see the 400-mark surpassed again within the next few seasons. The league-wide emphasis on three-point shooting has created an environment where specialists can thrive in ways previously unimaginable. Players like Duncan Robinson and Buddy Hield have built entire careers around their long-range prowess, with Hield connecting on 282 threes last season alone. The strategic evolution has been remarkable—teams now actively seek out players who can stretch defenses to their breaking point.
I can't help but draw parallels to that incredible performance I witnessed where Bahay seized control of the game, canning the technical freebie before immediately creating another opportunity off the missed free throws. That sequence exemplified the modern shooter's mentality—always ready, always confident, and understanding that every possession represents a new chance to score. This relentless approach is what separates good shooters from historic ones. The great ones, in my observation, possess this almost obsessive focus on maximizing every scoring opportunity, whether it's a designed play or a broken possession.
The statistical progression tells a compelling story. From the early days when Brian Taylor led the league with 90 threes in 1979-80, to the gradual increases through players like Dennis Scott (267 in 1995-96), to the current era where multiple players regularly surpass 250, the trajectory has been steadily upward. What's particularly interesting to me is how this has changed team construction—the "stretch five" has become increasingly valuable, with big men like Karl-Anthony Towns demonstrating that size no longer dictates where you can shoot from.
As we look toward the future, I'm particularly excited about the potential for international players to challenge these records. The global game has fully embraced the three-point revolution, and I've noticed younger players entering the league with more polished long-range games than ever before. The record will undoubtedly fall again—it's not a matter of if, but when and by how much. The beautiful part of this evolution is that each record-breaking performance pushes the entire sport forward, forcing coaches, players, and analysts like myself to reconsider what's truly possible on a basketball court.