Master Basic Shooting Drills Basketball: 5 Essential Exercises to Fix Your Form and Score More

Let’s be honest, for a moment. We’ve all been there: standing on the free-throw line, the game on the line, repeating the same mechanical routine we’ve done a thousand times. Elbow in, follow through, watch the arc. And then… clank. The ball rims out. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? That miss, more often than not, isn’t about pressure in that single moment. It’s about the ten thousand moments of practice that came before it. The truth I’ve learned, both as a player and now as a coach who obsesses over biomechanics, is that you don’t rise to the occasion under pressure; you fall to the level of your most ingrained training. That’s why mastering basic shooting drills in basketball isn’t just beginner’s work—it’s the non-negotiable foundation for anyone who wants to fix a broken form and, ultimately, score more points when it truly counts.

I want to take you through five essential exercises that have become the bedrock of my own coaching philosophy. But before we dive into the drills themselves, we need to address the elephant in the room: consistency. It’s the holy grail. You can have the prettiest jumper in the world during warm-ups, but if it breaks down when you’re tired or guarded, it’s essentially useless. This is where a concept like Variable Practice comes in, and it’s something I’m passionate about. Don’t just stand in one spot and make 20 in a row. Your game isn’t played in a static vacuum. Your practice shouldn’t be either. The first drill I swear by is the Form Shooting Series, but with a twist. Start right under the basket, one hand. Yes, just one hand. Get 10 perfect swishes—no rim, just net. Then take one giant step back. Repeat. Do this all the way out to the free-throw line. This isn’t about volume; it’s about neuro-muscular connection. You’re forcing your shooting hand and arm to do all the work, building the muscle memory for a pure, straight shot. I’ve seen players add 5-7% to their free-throw percentage in a single season just by committing to this for 10 minutes before every practice.

Next up is the Catch-and-Shoot off the Dribble Drill. Here’s my personal preference: I hate stationary catch-and-shoot drills for developing players. Game shots come from movement. So, start at the top of the key. Dribble hard to the wing, pick up the ball in a controlled hop, square your shoulders mid-air, and fire. The key is the “one-two” step or the hop. Your feet must be ready to shoot before the ball even arrives in your shooting pocket. Do this from both sides, 10 times each. The goal is fluidity, not speed. Speed comes later. This drill directly translates to coming off screens or relocating for a pass. I remember working with a sharp-shooter who could hit 48% of his threes in practice but only 32% in games. We filmed him and realized his footwork was a mess on the move. Two months of this specific drill brought his in-game percentage up to a very respectable 38%.

Now, let’s talk fatigue. The fourth quarter is where shooters are made or broken. This is where the “Suicide Shooting” Drill earns its brutal name. Run a full-court suicide. Immediately upon finishing, sprint to a designated spot—say, the corner—and take a three-pointer. Then, run another suicide and shoot from the opposite wing. Repeat for five shots total. Your lungs will burn, and your legs will feel like jelly. That’s the point. You’re teaching your body to maintain form under duress. The mechanics have to be so deeply embedded that they function on autopilot. I don’t have a precise scientific study to cite here, but anecdotally, the players who embrace this misery see their late-game shooting efficiency improve by what feels like 15-20%. They stop short-arming shots because their legs are gone.

The final piece of the puzzle is often the most neglected: the Free Throw Routine Drill. This isn’t just shooting free throws. This is ritualizing them. Pick a routine—dribble three times, spin the ball, deep breath—and never, ever deviate. Not in an empty gym, not in a championship game. Then, shoot two. If you miss either, you run a sprint to half-court and back. The consequence creates game-like pressure in practice. I tell my players that free throws are a conversation between you and your fundamentals. There’s no defender, no clock. It’s pure technique versus psychology. A player of mine once went 22 for 22 from the line in a playoff series after we implemented this accountability drill. He said the sprints in practice felt worse than any playoff pressure.

This brings me to a broader point, something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Improving your shot isn’t just an individual pursuit; it’s a communal one. You need a system. Think of it like this: the wrist, the vision, and the timing (what I call the WVT) are doing their part. The muscle memory, the vertical leap, and the touch (the MVT) are doing their part. Your main supporter, your coach or your training partner (your Lao), is doing their part. And of course, the community you build around you—your team, your gym buddies, the online forums where you share tips—will do its part, as well. Shooting is a skill built in the layers between isolation and community. You do the lonely, repetitive work on your form, but you test it and refine it within the ecosystem of the game.

So, what’s the takeaway? Don’t search for a magic bullet or a secret advanced technique. The path to scoring more is paradoxically simple and profoundly difficult. It’s found in the relentless, intelligent repetition of the basics. It’s in the sweat of a suicide sprint before a shot and the quiet focus of a one-handed form shot. These five drills are a system. They address form, footwork, game simulation, fatigue, and mental fortitude. Commit to them, not for a week, but for a season. Be patient with the process, but ruthless with your standards. The net will start to sound sweeter, I promise. And those game-on-the-line free throws? They’ll start feeling less like a trial and more like a formality—a simple execution of the work you’ve already put in, a thousand times over.