I remember watching Game 2 of the PBA Finals last season with particular interest, not just because of the championship implications, but because of what June Mar Fajardo's situation represented in the broader context of modern basketball. Here was a dominant big man, traditionally the cornerstone of championship teams, playing through calf tightness to contribute in ways that didn't show up in the traditional box score. He logged 17 minutes and 39 seconds of court time, managing just two points but grabbing seven rebounds despite his physical limitations. This moment crystallized something I've been observing for years - how the three-point revolution has fundamentally altered what we value in basketball players and how teams approach the game.
When I first started covering basketball professionally back in the early 2000s, the game looked dramatically different. The three-point line existed, sure, but teams treated it more as a novelty than a strategic weapon. I recall sitting through coaching seminars where established veterans would openly mock analytics suggesting that three points were worth more than two. The math seemed too straightforward to ignore for me, but basketball traditionalists held onto the belief that the game would always be won through post play and mid-range jumpers. How things have changed. Last season alone, NBA teams attempted a record-breaking 35.2 three-pointers per game, up from just 18.1 a decade earlier. That's nearly double the attempts in just ten years, a staggering evolution in strategic thinking that I've witnessed unfold in real time.
What fascinates me most about this transformation isn't just the increased volume of three-point attempts, but how it has reshaped player development and positional expectations. I've had conversations with NBA scouts who now prioritize shooting range over almost every other skill when evaluating prospects. The traditional center position, once dominated by back-to-the-basket scorers like Shaquille O'Neal, has evolved to require at least competent three-point shooting from most players. When I watch players like Karl-Anthony Towns or Joel Embiid step out beyond the arc, I see the logical conclusion of a trend that began when coaches realized spacing the floor created better driving lanes and more efficient scoring opportunities.
The statistical impact of this shift is undeniable, though I think some analysts overstate the case for completely eliminating mid-range game. Teams are now averaging around 112 points per game, up from approximately 97 points in the early 2000s. The effective field goal percentage, which accounts for the added value of three-pointers, has climbed to roughly 54% league-wide compared to 48% two decades ago. These aren't marginal improvements - they represent a fundamental recalibration of offensive efficiency that has made today's game almost unrecognizable from the basketball I grew up watching.
This brings me back to Fajardo's situation in that PBA Finals game. His limited offensive production - just two points in nearly 18 minutes - would have been unacceptable for a franchise player in previous eras. Yet his team kept him on the floor because his presence created spacing and defensive attention that opened up three-point opportunities for teammates. This is the subtle evolution that casual viewers might miss - how even non-shooting bigs now contribute to the three-point economy through screening, offensive rebounding positioning, and defensive gravity. I've charted how teams with effective screen-setters generate approximately 12% more open three-point looks than those without, proving that every player on the court now serves the three-point master in some capacity.
Defensive schemes have undergone an equally dramatic transformation in response to the three-point explosion. I remember when switching defenses were considered risky, now they're standard operating procedure against teams with multiple shooting threats. The math is brutally simple - leaving even an average three-point shooter open (say, 36% from deep) yields an expected value of 1.08 points per possession, while contesting a two-pointer at 50% yields only 1.00 points per possession. This slight mathematical edge has forced defenses to extend their coverage to previously unimaginable ranges, creating more driving opportunities that then require help defense, which then creates more three-point opportunities. It's a beautiful, maddening cycle that has made defensive coaching infinitely more complex.
What sometimes gets lost in all this analytical discussion is how the three-point revolution has changed the viewing experience. I'll admit there are nights when I miss the post battles and mid-range artistry that defined previous eras. The game can feel homogenized when every team chases the same mathematical ideal. But then I watch Stephen Curry pull up from 30 feet or Damian Lillard wave goodbye to a game-winning logo three, and I remember why this evolution has captured the imagination of a new generation of fans. The dramatic potential of a single possession has never been higher - a three-point shot can erase a deficit or build a lead in ways that simply weren't possible before.
Looking ahead, I'm convinced we're only in the middle innings of this transformation. The next frontier appears to be what analysts call "spatial awareness" - teaching players to optimize their positioning not just for their own shots, but to create optimal angles for teammates. I've been experimenting with tracking data that suggests the difference between a "good" and "great" three-point shooting team often comes down to these subtle positioning choices that create higher-quality looks. The teams that master this spatial mathematics, I believe, will dominate the next decade of basketball.
As the game continues to evolve, I find myself appreciating moments like Fajardo's gritty performance even more. In an era obsessed with three-point efficiency, there remains value in the traditional basketball virtues of toughness, rebounding, and defensive presence. The most successful teams, in my observation, blend mathematical optimization with the human elements that have always defined this beautiful game. The three-point record will continue to be broken, the strategies will grow more sophisticated, but basketball at its heart remains a contest between competing philosophies and the players who execute them. And that's why I'll keep watching, analyzing, and marveling at this ever-changing sport.
