That’s a bad shot. Unless you’re torching somebody. Unless you really can’t be stopped, and you’re 9 for 17 (52.9%) from beyond-the-arc, having already dropped 47 on the night.
That’s a bad shot. Unless you’re the best deep-distance threat in the playoffs this year, shooting 6 for 12 from 30+ feet (50%) going into game 5, and 10 for 18 (55%) after it.
That’s a bad shot, if you’re losing. If you’re down 1 or 2 points, or in this hypothetical scenario, if it’s 113 to 115 or 114 to 115, then an easy/high-percentage shot or drive to the rim for contact is favorable. But when the game is tied, what is the risk of missing that “bad shot” right there? In Dame’s mind, all that means is overtime, and another chance to put your team away. That’s not a bad shot if there’s no immediate risk of loss or repercussion. Dame isn’t scared to miss, and that’s why he can let it fly.
That’s a bad shot, because when you hang back that deep, you’re telegraphing to the defense what you’re doing. You’re telling them you’re gonna SHOOT that shot, try and stop me. Then why not collapse on that player? Smother him outside, and don’t worry about him blowing by you off-the-dribble to the lane. For all of Paul George’s tremendous talent and basketball IQ, does he really think that Dame’s not gonna shoot if he’s 30 feet away from the basket with 2 or 3 seconds left on the clock? He’s been doing that all game, and he’s been killing you.
Funnily enough, it shouldn’t surprise us that Paul George thought Dame’s hail-mary was a bad shot. It goes to show you the degree of judgment he’s working with. The fact that his own 3-point shooting was just as uninspiring, 31.9% (15 for 47 on the series) is not a coincidence. That he’ll never take that shot makes all the difference, and what separates great players from legends.