REVIVING TWO UNDERAPPRECIATED SHOTS
by Dr. Old School
January 24, 2008
Old School had thought the underhand scoop shot had all but disappeared from today’s basketball players’ arsenal until a few weeks ago, while watching the Georgetown Hoyas play. Jonathan Wallace (dubiously dubbed “divine” by Gee) drove the lane, weaving through numerous opponents and then executed a flawless underhanded scoop for a deuce.
While it is nice to see an elite player still use the shot, Old School still needs to defend the much maligned shot because of the objection you so often hear: “It’s so easy to block!” Not so fast, my young friends. Any student of Zeno’s paradoxes—and what old-timer isn’t?—can point out the fallacy in that claim. Centuries ago, Zeno noted that any line, from point A to point B, is divisible. (Note another helpful Old School diagram.)
Since any point along the line can be divided by half and then again ad infinitum (Old School loves Latin), there are then an infinite number of release points to Jonathan’s shot. No one, not even the great Vern Maklin, could possibly guess where, along an infinite number of possible points, the shot will be released. Ergo, as we used to say in Logic, the shot is “un-blockable”. Some scholars might cavil that, by Zeno’s argument, Jonathan would never release the ball either—but that simply proves the point of its “unblockability” and, besides, Zeno never saw the “divine one” shoot.
Our second shot actually has become a rarity; all the more is the pity. The set shot has disappeared in part, Old School believes, because of today’s confusion among the types of set shots: the one-handed set shot, the two-handed set shot and the authentic set shot, which for sake of clarity, he will call the one-and-a-half-handed set shot. Let’s look at all three. The one-handed set shot is rarely seen today except as it is used in doctors’ offices to test the balance of old geezers like me and on sobriety road checks. (Take it from Old School, you would rather recite the alphabet backwards!) It requires lifting your shooting hand with ball over your head, while lifting slightly the corresponding foot (see picture). Not even Karate Kid’s Mr. Miyagi could execute it.
By contrast, the two-handed set shot is doable and highly accurate when performed correctly. Position the ball in your two hands with both thumbs and fingers forming a “W” (see picture). Place the ball close to your chest and launch it towards the hoop. (Alumni of Tom Brown’s Rookie League know how to do this and there are a number of them in the land of Tee’s Weekly.)
The only problem with the two-handed set shot is that it is easily blocked by these tall young whippersnappers on today’s court. That is why you young fellers need to develop the one-and-a-half-handed set shot. It’s easy to learn but takes hours of practice to become accurate. It was Old School’s favorite shot, though. While cradling the ball in one hand, use your other hand to lift and project the ball towards the basket, allowing it to curl off your finger tips as you release it. Imagine, if you will, holding a baby’s bottom with one hand, supporting its flaccid back with another, and launching it in the air. Old School does not recommend practicing with a real baby unless someone is under the net to catch it.
What makes the one-and-a-half-handed set shot so effective, however, is what you do with your knee and leg. As you prepare to shoot, lift the knee of your shooting hand in an 85-degree angle to the floor (see picture). Imagine the Karate Kid’s “crane kick” with a basketball. With your knee thus extended, your shot, like the underhanded scoop, is for all practical purposes “unblockable.”
Your knee will quickly deter any would-be shot blocker. This shot is particularly advantageous if you have bad or artificial knees and can’t drain the jump shot. You may not be able to get through an airport un-harassed, but imagine what it’s like for your opponent to be impaled on titanium. That’s why it is Mrs. Old School’s favorite shot too.
A final “ups” for one of the all-time great Old Schoolers, Brooklyn Dodger’s pitcher Johnny Podres, who died recently. As mentioned in the Washington Post obit, he disdained, as a coach, modern technology. “I don’t know nothin’ about computers,” he once said. “I know pitchers.” Old lefties may get into heaven, but you can take it the bank: there are no computers there!