I remember sitting in a bar in downtown Chicago back in 2016, watching Stephen Curry sink that impossible three-pointer against Oklahoma City from 38 feet out. The entire place erupted, and I turned to my friend and said, "Basketball will never be the same after this." That's the thing about NBA splash moments—they don't just change the scoreboard; they fundamentally reshape how we understand the game itself. Having followed basketball professionally for over fifteen years, I've witnessed numerous moments where a single shot or game altered the trajectory of teams, players, and even the sport's strategic evolution. These unforgettable moments create ripples that extend far beyond the court, influencing everything from coaching philosophies to youth basketball development.
Take that Curry shot, for instance. Before that game-winning buzzer-beater in overtime, the consensus was that long-range threes were high-risk, low-percentage attempts. But Curry's confidence in taking—and making—that shot from what seemed like another zip code shifted the entire league's perspective. The following season, three-point attempts across the NBA increased by nearly 14%, and teams began building their offenses around the perimeter shot in ways we'd never seen before. I've spoken with several coaches who admitted they completely revamped their offensive schemes after witnessing Golden State's success with the three-ball. What fascinates me most is how these splash moments often come when we least expect them, yet they become turning points that historians look back on as clear demarcations between eras of play.
This brings me to an interesting parallel from collegiate basketball that perfectly illustrates how early games can signal championship potential. The reference to University of Santo Tomas needing their first two games to gauge their title aspirations resonates deeply with me because I've seen this pattern play out repeatedly in the NBA. When the Miami Heat assembled their superteam in 2010, it was their early-season blowout victory against Orlando that made me sit up and think, "This team isn't just good—they're historically good." Similarly, when the Toronto Raptors won their first eight games in the 2018-19 season, despite having just traded for Kawhi Leonard who many thought wouldn't mesh quickly with the team, that early success signaled something special was brewing. Those first few games revealed a defensive cohesion and offensive fluidity that ultimately carried them to their first championship. The numbers bear this out too—teams that start the season 7-0 have historically had a 68% higher chance of making the Finals compared to teams with slower starts.
What many casual fans might not appreciate is how these early indicators create psychological advantages that extend throughout the season. I've interviewed players who've told me that early statement wins build a belief system within the locker room that becomes self-reinforcing. When you know you can beat anyone because you've already done it convincingly, that confidence translates into closer games where players trust the system and each other. The 1996 Chicago Bulls started 12-0, and while that was impressive on its own, it was the manner of their victories—winning by an average margin of 15.2 points—that demonstrated their historic potential. That team would go on to win 72 games, a record that stood for twenty years. Sometimes you just watch those early games and sense something different, something special that transcends statistics.
Of course, not every splash moment comes from a championship team or even a successful season. Some of the most memorable shots in NBA history came from underdogs or in losing efforts. Who could forget Damian Lillard's series-ending three-pointer over Chandler Parsons in 2014? The Trail Blazers weren't championship favorites, but that moment became iconic because of its sheer audacity and perfect execution under pressure. I was covering that game professionally, and the energy in the Moda Center was something I've rarely experienced in two decades of sports journalism. Moments like these remind us that basketball's beauty often lies in these spontaneous explosions of brilliance rather than carefully constructed narratives about championship contenders.
The evolution of these splash moments tells a fascinating story about basketball's changing identity. When I started covering the NBA in the early 2000s, the dominant philosophy was built around getting to the basket and post play. The three-pointer was still viewed by many traditionalists as somewhat of a gimmick. Fast forward to today, and we've witnessed James Harden's step-back three becoming one of the league's most unstoppable moves, and teams like the Houston Rockets attempting over 50 threes per game as standard strategy. This transformation didn't happen overnight—it was accelerated by those watershed moments that proved the efficacy of these approaches at the highest levels of competition.
Reflecting on all these moments, I'm struck by how they collectively form basketball's DNA—each unforgettable shot or game adding another strand to the sport's evolving story. The beauty of following the NBA isn't just in celebrating championships but in recognizing those flashes of brilliance that change how we think about what's possible on the court. Whether it's Ray Allen's corner three to save Miami's season in 2013 or Kyrie Irving's game-winner in Game 7 of the 2016 Finals, these moments become part of basketball's permanent consciousness, referenced and replayed for generations. They're why we watch—not just for the competition, but for those split-seconds where history bends and the game transforms before our eyes.