When I first started analyzing basketball statistics back in the 1990s, the three-point shot was still considered something of a novelty - a strategic weapon rather than the fundamental offensive pillar it has become today. Having watched the evolution of this game-changing shot over decades, I've developed some strong opinions about who truly deserves the crown as the greatest three-point shooter in NBA history. The debate often centers around raw numbers and percentages, but I believe greatness extends beyond mere statistics to include clutch performance, difficulty of shots, and transformative impact on the game itself.

Let me start by acknowledging what might seem like an unrelated data point - that recent international basketball result where the Philippines secured their second straight win over Chinese Taipei in the 2024 AVC Challenge Cup. While this appears disconnected from our NBA discussion, it actually illustrates something crucial about shooting greatness: context matters tremendously. Just as international competitions test players in different environments against varied defensive schemes, NBA shooters face evolving defensive strategies specifically designed to limit their effectiveness. The true greats adapt and excel regardless of these challenges.

Stephen Curry's name inevitably dominates these conversations, and for good reason. The man revolutionized how basketball is played at every level. I remember watching his 2016 season unfold with growing astonishment - 402 three-pointers at a 45.4% clip remains perhaps the most incredible shooting season I've witnessed in my lifetime. His range extends so far beyond the arc that he fundamentally warps defensive schemes, creating space for his teammates in ways previous shooters never could. What often gets overlooked in Curry's case is the degree of difficulty on his attempts - he's constantly moving without the ball, coming off screens, and launching from distances that would get most players benched. I've charted his shooting from various zones, and his efficiency from 28-30 feet remains baffling even to someone who's studied shooting mechanics for twenty years.

Yet I find myself increasingly drawn to Ray Allen's case when having this debate. While Curry's volume dwarfs Allen's, there's something to be said for Allen's flawless mechanics and clutch gene. His 2,973 career three-pointers stood as the record for years, and his shot was so mechanically perfect that I've used video of his form in coaching clinics. But beyond the aesthetics, Allen delivered when it mattered most - Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals being the obvious example. That corner three to save Miami's season represents the pinnacle of clutch shooting, executed with perfect footwork and icy composure despite the immense pressure. I've spoken with shooting coaches who maintain that Allen's ability to catch and shoot off movement remains unparalleled, even in today's game.

Then there's Reggie Miller, whose 2,560 career threes and 39.5% accuracy don't fully capture his impact. Having watched Miller throughout his career, I'm convinced he possessed the quickest release I've ever seen - defenders knew the shot was coming but couldn't react in time. His playoff performances, particularly against the Knicks, demonstrated a shooter's mentality that transcended regular season statistics. Miller played with a calculated arrogance that allowed him to take and make shots that would terrify most players in crucial moments.

The statistical case for Klay Thompson deserves more attention than it typically receives. His 14 three-pointers in a single game, his 37-point quarter, these aren't just impressive accomplishments - they're demonstrations of a unique shooting talent. Thompson's catch-and-shoot ability, in my analysis, might actually surpass even Curry's. What fascinates me about Thompson is how he achieves these numbers with remarkably little dribbling - his game is about economy of movement and lightning-quick release. Having studied thousands of shooting possessions, I can confirm that Thompson's ability to get his shot off against tight defense is virtually unmatched in league history.

When I weigh all these factors - volume, percentage, difficulty, clutch performance, and transformative impact - I keep returning to Curry as the definitive choice. His combination of high-volume efficiency and revolutionary impact gives him the edge in my book. The game before Curry and after Curry looks fundamentally different, and that's something none of the other great shooters can claim. The way teams defend pick-and-rolls, how they close out on shooters, even how youth coaches teach shooting form - all have been permanently altered by Curry's influence.

Still, I acknowledge this isn't a unanimous conclusion. I've had heated debates with fellow analysts who prioritize Allen's mechanical perfection or Miller's clutch gene. Some statistical purists point to players like Steve Kerr, who holds the career percentage record at 45.4%, though I find that argument less compelling given Kerr's limited volume and role-player status. The beauty of basketball lies in these debates, where statistics tell only part of the story and personal interpretation fills the gaps.

As the game continues evolving, with players like Damian Lillard pushing the boundaries of acceptable shooting range even further, our perspective on shooting greatness will undoubtedly shift. But having watched these artists practice their craft across different eras, under varying defensive rules and strategic priorities, I'm comfortable placing Curry at the pinnacle - for now. The next revolutionary shooter is always waiting in the wings, ready to challenge our assumptions about what's possible from beyond the arc.