During the 10th annual MIT Sloan Sports Analytics Conference earlier this spring, marquee events like the Moneyball reunion and a riveting NBA analytics panel packed the main auditorium at the Boston Convention and Expo Center. Thousands of front-office types, journalists, and fans flitted from talk to talk, listening to experts expound on everything from biometrics to eSports to contract negotiations. But basketball shot-chart maven Kirk Goldsberry's breezy, finger-on-the-pulse consideration of the state of the three-point shot was the hot ticket, with people spilling out of the room into the hallway.
Some of that popularity stemmed from the title of Goldberry's presentation: The Curry Landscape. It referred, of course, to Steph Curry of the Golden State Warriors. Curry enjoyed a career-best regular season that dwarfed last year's amazing run, sinking 402 threes—obliterating his previous record, set last year, of 286—and winning a second consecutive league MVP. Curry is the face of the hot-button topic in pro hoops: the prevalence of three-point shooting, and how basketball bears little resemblance to the game James Naismith invented in 1891 when he nailed peach baskets above the doors of a gymnasium in Springfield, Massachusetts.
Curry is the best three-point shooter ever, a player so prolific that he often leaves traditional defenses scrambling and opposing offenses struggling to keep up. Although Curry and the Warriors are simply exploiting his freakish talent, their radically different style of play has brought calls for change. Some even suggest introducing a four-point shot, an idea some hall-of-famers find intriguing. Goldsberry isn't quite so radical. He just wants to look at the data, and consider the options it presents. "We can use analytics in a new regulatory capacity to monitor the game and make decisions like where the three-point line should be in an informed manner," he says.
Move Back the Line
The NBA adopted the three-point line in 1979, creating an arc 23 feet, 9 inches from the basket at the top of the key, tapering to 22 feet at the baseline. Once considered a gimmick (Boston Celtics coach Red Auerbach hated the idea until he drafted a young sharpshooter named Larry Bird), the three has become an integral part of the game. Players attempted almost 13 threes per game during the 1997 season; that figure almost doubled to 24 last season.
To illustrate this change, Goldsberry compared Cleveland Cavaliers' forward Kevin Love's shot selection during his rookie season in 2008 and last season. Over time, Love went from being a post player who stayed close to the rim to being a perimeter player averaging almost as many three-point attempts as Reggie Miller, one of the best three-point shooters ever.
Given the sharp rise in threes, Goldsberry's suggestion to move the three-point line back seems logical. That would lower the odds of a player sinking the shot, and therefore lower the odds he'd take it. People who dislike this idea tend to argue it is unprecedented. That's not true. For three seasons between 1994-97, during the Chicago Bulls second championship three-peat, the NBA shortened the line to a uniform 22 feet all the way around the basket. Three-point shooting spiked, and the league eventually abandoned the idea.
The most intriguing option would be adjusting the line each season, choosing a distance that would yield a field goal percentage of around 33 percent, which is about how many threes players made when the league introduced the shot. Golf course designers do this, using pin placement and terrain to maintain a par of 72 strokes over 18 holes.
Alternatively, the league could move the line back permanently. But this creates a problem: It would change the dimensions of the court, which is 50 feet wide and 94 feet long, if you want to keep the 3-point corner shot. That, in turn, would require remodeling many billion-dollar arenas—something Goldsberry concedes probably won't happen.
Take A Cue From Baseball Stadiums
Goldsberry's most radical suggestion is letting each team paint the line where it sees fit, within reason. "People have honestly told me this is the stupidest thing I've ever said," he says.
Major League Baseball does this, though. The distance to the outfield wall varies with each ballpark, significantly impacting the chance of a home run. The official rules of Major League Baseball state, "A distance of 320 feet or more along the foul lines, and 400 feet or more to center field is preferable." That provides wide latitude and contributes to the personality of places like AT&T Park in San Francisco or Wrigley Field in Chicago. It accounts for how managers set rosters to take advantage of the unique geometry in a home stadium.
The NBA already allows teams to alter uniforms and chose how they paint the court, Goldsberry argues. Why not let them create a home-court advantage in which each team is familiar with the line at home, but constantly adjusting on the road? "I think it would be interesting to consider what the NBA would look like if there was a 36-foot line in Indiana and a 22-foot line in some other place," said Goldsberry.
Such an approach would see teams draw a line that suits their roster while combating opponents' strengths. The Warriors could set the line further back and capitalize on its sharpshooting, for example, while the Miami Heat—who made 1,112 fewer attempts this season—could move the line in, increasing their odds of sinking threes.
Do Nothing
Or the league could do nothing, a point Goldsberry illustrated with one last beautiful chart that showed the assist rate per successful field goal in a recent season. The data revealed that most spots from which players scored after receiving a pass were beyond the three-point line. This is, essentially, an aesthetic argument that poses a simple question: Is the game better when dominant centers, who won 19 of 20 league MVPs before the advent of the three-point line, keep possessions close to the basket? Or is it better when players are passing the ball and the action is further from the hoop?
In other words, is the dynamic, exciting gameplay of the Warriors so beautiful to behold as to warrant doing nothing?
During the regular season that just ended, Curry landed more threes than Magic Johnson did during his 13 seasons (which, coincidentally, started the same year the NBA introduced the three-point line). More threes means more baskets made after assists, which was Johnson's defining statistic. He remains beloved for his generosity with the ball, helping his team play at its best. The three-pointer, once considered a gimmick, is integral to the game. Curry and the Warriors have pushed this to an extreme. People can debate whether this is a problem, and how to address it. But the best thing to do might be to simply sit back and enjoy the beautiful passes and arcing splashdowns into the hoop.