As I sit here watching the latest NBA All-Star weekend unfold, I can't help but marvel at how the three-point contest has evolved from a sideshow into one of the main events. Having followed basketball religiously since the early 2000s, I've witnessed this transformation firsthand, and I must confess there's something uniquely thrilling about watching the game's best shooters compete in what essentially amounts to a high-pressure shooting gallery. The question of who scored the most points in NBA 3-point contest history isn't just about numbers—it's about understanding the moments when shooters transcended ordinary performance and entered legendary territory.

Let me take you back to 1986, when the contest was still finding its footing. Larry Bird, that cocky Celtics forward with the dead-eyed shooting form, didn't just win—he dominated with a swagger that defined an era. I've always believed Bird would have thrived in today's game despite what some traditionalists claim. His record of three consecutive titles stood for decades, but what truly fascinates me is how the scoring system has evolved. The original format featured only five racks of five balls each, with no money balls or special racks—just pure shooting. Bird's highest score in his championship runs was 22 points, which seems almost quaint by today's standards but was revolutionary at the time.

The real game-changer came in 2014 when the NBA introduced the "money ball rack," allowing players to place all five money balls on any rack of their choosing. This strategic element transformed the contest from pure shooting to a combination of skill and gamesmanship. I've always thought this was one of the smartest rule changes in recent memory—it gave shooters more control over their destiny while adding an extra layer of drama for viewers. The current scoring record belongs to Stephen Curry, who put up an unbelievable 31 points in the 2021 contest. Watching Curry that night felt like witnessing basketball history—his rhythm was perfect, his release quicker than anyone else's, and his confidence palpable even through the screen. What many casual fans don't realize is that Curry actually missed his first two shots before finding that magical groove that makes him so special.

Now, you might wonder why I'm discussing NBA three-point records when the reference material mentions Philippine basketball and injured players. Here's my perspective: the global nature of basketball means that performances in the NBA influence training regimens and recovery protocols worldwide. When I read about TNT potentially playing without Kelly Williams due to a sprained ankle and Roger Pogoy with hamstring issues, it immediately made me think about how modern basketball has become increasingly dependent on specialized shooting—even when key players are injured. Teams worldwide now prioritize developing three-point specialists because they've seen how transformative elite shooting can be, as demonstrated by these record-breaking contest performances.

Between Curry's record and Bird's legendary performances sits an often-overlooked masterpiece: Devin Booker's 28 points in the 2018 finals. What made Booker's performance particularly impressive in my view was that he did it while being relatively young and inexperienced in All-Star settings. The pressure in these contests is vastly underrated—imagine thousands of fans watching your every move with the clock ticking down. Having spoken with several participants over the years, I can confirm that the mental aspect is just as challenging as the physical shooting itself. Craig Hodges, who won three consecutive contests from 1990-1992, once told me that the key wasn't just making shots but maintaining composure when you inevitably miss a couple—advice that applies equally to regular season games and these specialized competitions.

The evolution of these records tells a broader story about how basketball itself has changed. When the contest began in 1986, the average NBA team attempted just 6.6 three-pointers per game. Last season, that number had skyrocketed to 34.6—more than a fivefold increase. This statistical explosion explains why today's shooters are so much more proficient from beyond the arc. They practice these shots constantly because the modern game demands it. Personally, I find this evolution mostly positive, though I do sometimes miss the post-heavy game of the 1990s. The strategic complexity of today's spacing-oriented offenses is fascinating from an analytical perspective, even if it comes at the expense of some back-to-the-basket artistry.

Looking beyond the raw numbers, what truly captivates me about these record-breaking performances is what they reveal about human potential under pressure. Klay Thompson's 27 points in 2016, for instance, came during what might have been the peak of the Warriors' dynasty. The confidence radiating from Thompson that night—the subtle smirk after each swish—embodied a team that knew they were making history. I've always been drawn to these psychological dimensions of sports, the unspoken stories behind the statistics. When we talk about Curry's 31 points, we're not just discussing made baskets but witnessing a master at the absolute peak of his craft.

As basketball continues to globalize, with players from Manila to Milwaukee working on their three-point shooting, these records will likely continue to fall. The injuries mentioned in the reference material—the sprained ankle and hamstring issues—highlight how fragile athletic performance can be and how remarkable these record-setting shooting displays truly are. In my estimation, we'll see someone break Curry's 31-point record within the next five years. The mathematical progression suggests it's inevitable as training methods improve and the three-point shot becomes even more central to offensive strategies worldwide. But records aren't just numbers—they're frozen moments of perfection that capture our imagination and remind us why we fell in love with this game in the first place.