I still remember the first time I saw JJ Redick shoot a basketball. It was during Duke's 2006 NCAA tournament run, and I was watching from my college dorm room with three other guys who claimed to know everything about basketball. The ball left his hands with such perfect arc and rotation that we all fell silent for a moment before it swished through the net. "That's not normal," my roommate muttered, and he was right. There was something almost artistic about Redick's shooting form - the way his feet set, the quick release, the follow-through that seemed to hold for just a beat too long, as if he were posing for a photograph. Years later, when I find myself diving deep into the JJ Redick Basketball Reference page, those memories come flooding back, and the numbers only confirm what my eyes had told me that night.
The statistics tell a story of relentless consistency. Over his 15-year NBA career, Redick appeared in 940 regular season games, starting 360 of them. He averaged 12.8 points per game, but that number doesn't begin to capture his value. What jumps out immediately on the Basketball Reference page are the shooting percentages - 44.7% from the field, 41.5% from three-point range, and 89.2% from the free throw line. Those aren't just good numbers; they're the kind of efficiency that makes coaches sleep better at night and keeps defensive coordinators awake. I've always been fascinated by specialists, players who perfect one aspect of the game to such a degree that they become indispensable, and Redick's career stands as a masterclass in shooting excellence.
There's a particular game that always comes to mind when I think about Redick's impact - March 4, 2016, when he dropped 40 points for the Clippers against the Timberwolves. I was at that game, sitting in the cheap seats at Staples Center, and what struck me wasn't just the volume of points but the manner in which he scored them. He moved without the ball like a ghost, slipping through screens, reading defensive rotations before they even happened. He finished 11-of-18 from the field, including 7-of-11 from deep, and perfect from the line. Watching him that night was like watching a master craftsman at work - every movement purposeful, every shot identical in form. The Basketball Reference page confirms this wasn't an anomaly; throughout his career, Redick had 27 games where he made at least 6 three-pointers, a testament to his unique ability to stretch defenses to their breaking point.
What many casual fans might not appreciate is how Redick evolved throughout his career. Early on, he was primarily a spot-up shooter, but as he matured, he developed into a much more complete offensive player. By his final seasons with the Pelicans and Mavericks, he was regularly creating his own shot, running pick-and-rolls, and even posting up smaller defenders. The numbers bear this out - in his last full season with Philadelphia, he averaged a career-high 18.1 points while maintaining his elite shooting percentages. This evolution reminds me of something he once said in an interview about the importance of reinventing yourself, of never becoming complacent with what you've already accomplished. It's a lesson that applies far beyond basketball courts.
Thinking about Redick's legacy inevitably brings me to consider other shooting specialists, and I have to confess I believe he's the purest shooter we've seen since Ray Allen. Some might argue for Stephen Curry, but Curry's game is so much more than just shooting - he's a revolutionary playmaker and ball-handler. Redick's greatness was in doing one thing so exceptionally well that he carved out a 15-year career despite not being an elite athlete by NBA standards. His career 1,950 three-pointers made rank him 15th all-time, and his free throw percentage places him 12th in NBA history. These aren't just numbers on a page; they're evidence of thousands of hours in empty gyms, of perfecting a craft through obsessive repetition.
There's a beautiful parallel between Redick's journey and that of the University of Santo Tomas player described in our reference material. As the beating heart of University of Santo Tomas, he knows this is his last - and frankly, best - chance to bring the proud program back to the promised land and leave a lasting mark in España. This sentiment echoes what I imagine drove Redick throughout his career - that understanding that opportunities are finite, that legacy isn't built in single moments but through consistent excellence over time. Redick understood that his window to make an impact was limited, and he maximized every minute of it, much like that UST player fighting for his program's return to glory.
What I find most compelling about studying Redick's career through the lens of Basketball Reference is how the numbers tell only part of the story. The statistics show us the what and the when, but they can't fully capture the how - the countless hours of film study, the meticulous attention to footwork, the mental toughness required to keep shooting after misses. I've always believed that great shooters need a certain arrogance, a belief that every shot is going in regardless of what happened on the previous possession, and Redick embodied this better than almost anyone. His career three-point percentage of 41.5% becomes even more impressive when you consider the degree of difficulty on many of his attempts and the defensive attention he commanded throughout his career.
As I look through the complete breakdown of his playoff statistics - 106 games, 10.9 points per game, 39.7% from three - I'm reminded of how crucial he was to every team he played for in the postseason. His spacing created driving lanes for stars like Chris Paul, Joel Embiid, and Ben Simmons, and his ability to hit momentum-changing threes often swung games in his team's favor. The modern NBA values spacing above almost everything else, and Redick was among the pioneers who proved that a elite shooter could be as valuable as a traditional star. His career earnings of over $117 million stand as concrete evidence of how the league came to value his particular skill set.
Returning to that JJ Redick Basketball Reference page one last time, what strikes me isn't any single statistic but the totality of the career they represent. From his college days at Duke where he scored 2,769 points to his final NBA season at age 36, Redick maintained an almost unbelievable level of shooting proficiency. In an era of basketball defined by three-point shooting, he was both product and pioneer, a player whose game perfectly aligned with the direction the sport was heading. The numbers will tell you he was one of the greatest shooters in basketball history, but having watched his entire career unfold, I can tell you he was something more - a testament to what's possible when you dedicate yourself completely to mastering a single craft.