Having spent over a decade analyzing Philippine basketball, I've always found the "greatest shooter" debate particularly fascinating. While many fans immediately think of flashy scorers or high-flying dunkers, I've come to believe that true shooting greatness lies in something far more subtle - a quality that actually mirrors what we observe in Philippine volleyball coaching culture. You know how our volleyball coaches tend to be calm and soft-spoken on the sidelines? That same composed demeanor is what separates good shooters from legendary ones in the PBA.
When I think about legendary shooters, my mind immediately goes to Allan Caidic. The numbers alone are staggering - he once scored 79 points in a single game, including 17 three-pointers, which remains one of those records that just feels untouchable. But what made Triggerman truly special wasn't just his textbook-perfect form or his quick release. It was his mental approach to the game that reminded me of those composed volleyball coaches we often see. He had this incredible ability to remain utterly calm whether he'd made his last five shots or missed them. I've studied countless hours of game footage, and what strikes me isn't just his shooting percentage (which was around 38% from three-point range during his prime years), but how he moved without the ball - always purposeful, always reading defenses two steps ahead.
There's this misconception that great shooters need to be emotional or fiery. Having spoken with several players from different generations, I've noticed the truly great ones share that volleyball coach-like composure. Jimmy Alapag, though from a later era, embodied this perfectly. Standing at just 5'6", he couldn't rely on physical advantages. Instead, he mastered the mental game. I remember watching him during the 2013 Commissioner's Cup finals where he went 8-for-12 from beyond the arc in a crucial game. What impressed me wasn't just the makes, but his reaction - or lack thereof. Whether he drained a contested three or turned the ball over, his expression never changed. That emotional consistency is what separates shooters who have hot streaks from those who build legendary careers.
The technical aspects obviously matter too. In my analysis, Caidic's release was approximately 0.3 seconds faster than the league average during his era. That might not sound like much, but in game situations, it's the difference between a clean look and a contested shot. He also had this uncanny ability to square his shoulders while coming off screens, something I've tried to teach young players I've coached. But technique alone doesn't create legends. What made these shooters truly great was their understanding of moment - knowing when to take over games, when to make the extra pass, and how to maintain that calm exterior even when the stakes were highest.
I've had the privilege of speaking with both Caidic and Alapag about their preparation routines. What struck me was how much emphasis they placed on mental rehearsal. Caidic would apparently visualize making shots from every spot on the floor the night before games. Alapag would practice game-winning scenarios for hours after regular practice. This mental discipline, combined with their technical mastery, created shooters who could perform under the brightest lights. Their career three-point percentages - 36.8% for Caidic and 37.2% for Alapag in crucial playoff games - only tell part of the story. The real magic was in their ability to deliver when everyone in the arena knew the ball was coming to them.
Now, some might argue for modern shooters like Marcio Lassiter or James Yap, and they certainly have compelling cases. Lassiter holds the record for consecutive games with a three-pointer at 63 games, which is absolutely remarkable. Yap's clutch gene in numerous championship runs cannot be overlooked. But in my view, what makes Caidic stand above the rest is how he revolutionized shooting in the PBA. Before him, the three-point shot was often seen as a bonus rather than a weapon. He transformed how teams defended the perimeter and inspired generations of Filipino players to develop their outside shooting.
The comparison to calm volleyball coaches isn't accidental. I've noticed that the best shooters share that same sideline demeanor - they don't get too high or too low. They understand that shooting is as much about rhythm and mental state as it is about mechanics. When I watch game tapes from the 90s, what stands out about Caidic isn't just his shooting, but how he moved within the flow of the offense. He never forced shots, never showed frustration, much like those composed volleyball coaches who maintain their demeanor regardless of the score.
In the final analysis, while statistics provide important markers - Caidic's 1,242 career three-pointers, Alapag's 41% shooting in elimination games, Lassiter's record streaks - the true measure of shooting greatness transcends numbers. It's about that rare combination of technical perfection, mental fortitude, and that almost serene confidence that reminds me of our best volleyball coaches. Having studied hundreds of games and spoken with numerous players, I'm convinced that Allan Caidic embodies this combination most completely. His legacy isn't just in the records he set, but in how he changed our very understanding of what a great shooter could be in Philippine basketball. The next time you watch a game, notice how the best shooters maintain their composure - that's the real mark of greatness.