Early Morning Workouts. Late Night Shooting Sessions.
You are tired. You are sore. You are giving it your all.
But you aren’t improving.
Maybe your handle feels a little tighter. Maybe your jump shot is a touch smoother. But barely. It’s infuriating. Frustration builds, and the sensation of helplessness takes over.
Why? Because you don’t know how to train.
Your intention matters. The feedback you give yourself. Your approach. Your ability to learn. These are the keys to real improvement.
The Problem
Throughout my career, I’ve worked with hundreds of coaches and trainers. Some were exceptional, and others didn’t fully understand how to help players improve. Ultimately, it’s up to you to learn how to train.
In college, I was obsessed with working hard. I viewed it as a badge of honour. I showed up early to practice and sweated through late-night workouts. But despite all the effort, my basketball performance declined over three years. By my junior year, I was sitting on the bench.
That’s when I learned a harsh truth: hard work alone doesn’t equal improvement.
The Breakthrough
Over the next six years, under the guidance of NBL coaching legend Joey Wright, I learned how to train. This transformed my career. Year after year, my NBL play improved. This new understanding of training helped me achieve my dream of playing in the NBA.
When I arrived in Houston, I quickly realized I was back at the bottom of the food chain. The NBA 3-point line was further than the international line, and my jump shot was struggling. Every shot hit front rim.
In workouts, I emphasized the mantra, "Shoot it long, shoot it strong." But nothing changed. My shots remained short.
I was sent to the G League for a game. I shot 1-for-10 from beyond the arc, which crushed my spirit. However, that game gave us critical feedback. After reviewing the film, we identified the issue: I was falling out of my shot and not sticking the landing.
For three weeks, our workouts focused on balance, using movement drills to challenge my feet. I started shooting well again in practice. But in my next G League game, the same problem resurfaced. Everything was short.
More feedback. More adjustments.
This time, the film revealed another pattern: on made shots, I was getting low into the shot. Back to the workouts. Now, we combined balance with a new focus: sinking into my hips, staying uncomfortably low.
It was exhausting. My legs burned. My focus wavered. But I stuck with it, and my shots started falling consistently. Since adopting this change, I’ve shot 43% from the 3-point line—the best of my career.
This process would have been impossible in college when I didn’t know how to improve.
These are the lessons I learned:

Intentional Practice
Improvement isn’t just about repetition—it’s about deliberate focus and execution.
In college, I ran through drills like a headless chicken, doing whatever the coach told me. Now, I approach every workout with a plan. I identify specific areas for improvement and structure my practice around those goals.
Hypothesis and Testing
My approach to skill development follows the principles of Nonlinear Pedagogy, which emphasizes exploration, adaptation, and external cues over rigid instruction.
That is how I developed my initial mantra—"Shoot it long, shoot it strong." However, that did not work. We did not find a solution until we experimented with specific body instructions. This approach is different from the Pedagogy training method. Improvement happens when you reflect, challenge your beliefs, and test new approaches.
Rigid thinking will only slow progress. When facing a problem, try different angles until something clicks.
Collaboration
Nothing great is achieved alone.
In college, I simply followed instructions. I didn’t think for myself or collaborate with my coaches. That mindset changed in the pros. My jump shot improved because my coaches and I worked together, sharing ideas and refining solutions.
Collaboration allows for creativity and accountability—two essential ingredients for growth.
Embracing Discomfort
Pushing yourself isn’t just about intensity; it’s about embracing change.
When I started working on staying low in my shot, it was physically and mentally exhausting. My legs burned, and my mind fatigued. Change is messy, uncomfortable, and frustrating, but that’s what improvement looks like. If you are not uncomfortable, you are not improving as much as you could be.
Knowing Why
Anyone can copy a workout, but true development comes from understanding the purpose behind each drill.
For example, ball handling drills can target countless areas: wrist quickness, stance, footwork, off-hand positioning, vision, and more. Knowing what you’re working on—and why—makes all the difference. Two players might perform the same drill, but one will improve far more because they’re focused on the right details.
Building Awareness
When I began focusing on staying low in my jump shot, I thought I was doing it. But the film told a different story. My body kept reverting to old habits.
This is where coaches are vital. They helped me maintain awareness, caught every slip-up, and pushed me to stay accountable. "Get lower, Jack. Even lower."
Creating a healthy feedback loop with a coach helps break patterns and develop new habits.
Conclusion
Improving is a skill. It’s about how you approach your workouts, the focus you bring, and the intent behind every drill. Real improvement requires collaboration, discomfort, and an unrelenting commitment to learning.
Hard work is important. But working smart—with purpose and feedback—is what transforms potential into greatness.