To make more of your shots—in basketball and in life—overdo your follow-through.

Overdo Your Follow-Through—Because Tentative Is Oddly Risky

We tend to think of the concept of follow-through in the context of finishing things well. But in many ways it’s more about starting them right.

Whenever I’m shooting free throws on the basketball court, I can tell instantly—the moment the ball leaves my sweaty 57-year-old fingertips—whether I’m about to experience a make or a miss, success or failure, imaginary cheers or imaginary jeers.

It’s all in the follow-through.

If I’ve followed through well on my shot, the ball launches from my hand with zip, arcs gracefully, and inevitably goes in—usually whispering through the net, almost not even touching it, and spinning right back to me at the free throw line.

Magic.

If I’ve followed through poorly, the ball comes off my hand sluggishly, with too little backspin, and clanks off the rim—even missing the rim altogether occasionally, resulting in what is known to basketball fans as an embarrassing air ball.

Tragic.

My high school basketball coach, John Erickson, spent a lot of time talking to us about free throws and follow-through.

Picture your shooting hand literally following the ball over the front rim and down into the basket, he said.

Snap your wrist forward emphatically at the end of your shooting motion, in an exaggerated, borderline ridiculous way—on 
purpose—so that your fingers end up pointed down at the floor once you’ve released the ball.

Then hold that manufactured position—again, on purpose—until well after you’ve seen the result.

It’s impossible, Coach Erickson stressed, to overdo it; to follow through too dramatically.

In fact, he said, follow through right and you’ll have a hard time missing, even—especially—under pressure.

Follow through wrong, on the other hand, and disappointment is all but certain.

It’s All About Starting Right

The other day when I was practicing my free throws at the gym, I made 13 in a row at one point.

It was all in the follow-through.

The next day, the best I could muster was three in a row.

It was all in the follow-through again. The lack thereof, at any rate.

And I knew it.

But I didn’t really understand why.

Until now.

I always figured that in his passionate sermons on follow-through, Coach’s attention was centered squarely on the end of the shot—especially as he was forever screaming “finish the shot, finish the shot!” through the immense hands on his 
6-foot-7-inch frame.

But follow-through, I’ve come to realize—and Coach Erickson undoubtedly knew it way back then—isn’t really about finishing right, at least not directly.

It’s about backhandedly guaranteeing that you start right—so that, in an oddly retroactive sort of way, a successful outcome basically takes care of itself.

When you intentionally accentuate your follow-through, you end up confidently shooting the ball instead of tentatively trying to steer it into the basket.

In so doing, you provide undeniable evidence, to both yourself and the universe, that you mean business; that you are genuinely committed to the shot you’re taking and not simply hoping for the best.

You thus acknowledge and accept, through your actions, that tentative is far riskier than confident.

So you choose—you ooze—confidence.

And then you hold that position until well after you’ve seen the result.

Follow-Through Signals Commitment

It’s one thing to merely say “I’m confident” or “I’m committed” in life.

But the universe demands proof—as does your introverted, sometimes over-thinking brain.

Follow-through—exaggerated, borderline ridiculous follow-through in your activities, in whatever form(s) it might take—is that proof.

The proof that will make your shots launch with zip, arc gracefully, and go in.

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *