Is it a free throw, or a foul shot?

I often hear basketball fans lament a particular player or team's struggles with shooting free throws. They'll wonder how a seemingly easy - in their mind - shot could be so difficult and they'll comment, "That'll get us beat one of these days."

I recall a Sports Illustrated article from over 20 years ago where the author was trying to explain the art of free throw shooting. I can't even remember who the author was, but he was trying to analyze why making a free throw was seemingly almost automatic for some players, while it is nearly an impossible task for others.

One of the things he wrote was, "When Larry Bird or Reggie Miller is at the line, it is almost certainly a free throw."

Miller I think was shooting around 93 or 94 percent from the stripe at the time.

"But when Shaquille O'Neal or Chris Dudley or any one of several other notorious foul line masons shoots it, it's literally a foul shot."

I believe Dudley was hitting 38.2 percent of his "foul shot" attempts at the time.

Of course anyone who has watched basketball on television for any length of time has heard of the "Hack-a-Shaq" technique. Teams would "unintentionally" foul O'Neal inside and send him to the free throw line rather than giving up an easy basket.

This strategy made sense on two levels. One, O'Neal with his size - 7-1 and 300 pounds - and skill was nearly impossible to guard one-on-one.

Second, if a team fouled O'Neal on five trips down the court and he hit his customary 4 out of 10 that would be four points as opposed to potentially 10 points if he scored every time.

Saving six points is quite literally and figuratively the percentage play.

Even the regional champion Linton-Stockton Miners have endured their share of trouble at the foul line.

In last Saturday's 47-39 win over Evansville Mater Dei, the Miners connected on 50 percent of their free throw attempts, 18 of 36.

But that was better than their 5 of 18 (28 percent) effort in their 41-34 win over North Knox in the sectional semifinal.

"You're not supposed to shoot 5 of 18 at the line and still be able to win," coach Joey Hart said. "But we did."

The free throw line is only 13 feet nine inches from the basket, or 15 feet, depending who you ask.

I say it's 13-9, because if the 3-point arc is 19-9 like everyone says it is, and the radius at the top of the circle is six feet, it has to be 13-9, doesn't it?

And the shooter isn't being guarded, which should make it even easier, right?

Or not. Free throw shooting isn't a "reactive" event the way jump shooting is. It's static, which gives the shooter time to think, and for some, that's the worst thing that can happen.

I liken it to golf.

It's easy to get into a groove hitting balls on the driving once you're sufficiently loose. You seemingly never miss, and it appears to the casual observer that you can actually play the game a little bit.

Not so on the golf course. I never seem to be able to find a swing and deliver the clubhead squarely to the ball. On the course it's a one-shot deal and you don't have the luxury of hitting a hundred practice shots to find a groove.

And like golf, a free throw is a one-shot deal. I think that explains why some players can hit 90 percent of their free throws in practice but struggle from the line in games.

The good ones of course don't have that problem.

I'll never call out an individual player for missing a critical free throw or a pair or even costing his team a game.

One reason I won't do that is because I was only a 51 percent career free throw shooter myself.

And it's not like I couldn't hit free throws. In practice we'd shoot free throws in sets of 10, up to 100, and I'd almost always hit 92 or 93.

I even won the free throw shootout at Bob Knight's basketball camp. Knight presented me with a Converse All-Star T-shirt for my prize.

But in games, it was a different story. I don't know how many potential three-point plays I blew by missing the "and one."

I even cost us a game at West Vigo. We were clinging to a slim lead late in the game and I had two free throws coming.

During a timeout, coach Jim Callane told us in the huddle, "Now when Terry hits these free throws we're going to set up in a 1-2-1-1 full-court press."

Guess what? Terry missed them both. So not only did I fail to deliver two points we really needed, I messed up our strategy.

The worst free throw shooter I ever saw at a fairly high level of basketball was Indiana State's Alex Gilbert.

Alex Gilbert was a center on the Larry Bird team at Indiana State that lost to Magic Johnson and Michigan State in the 1979 NCAA championship game, and for the year after that.

Gilbert was a freakish athlete with a 42-inch vertical jump.

He was also an 11 percent free throw shooter.

For those of you who don't have your calculators handy, that's approximately one made free throw for every nine attempts.

Street and Smith Basketball magazine - a must-read for hoops junkies back in those days, described Gilbert as "6-8 center Alex Gilbert, he of the 'throw-it-and-hope' free throws..."

I can't remember Indiana State's opponent that night at Hulman center but I'm pretty sure it was a Missouri Valley Conference foe.

On one trip to the line, Gilbert shot two of the worst free throws I'd ever seen, before or since.

Gilbert's first attempt almost wedged between the flange and the backboard before falling straight down. How you get a ball to almost lodge there shooting from straight on almost defies physics.

The second was worse. The ball squirted out of Gilbert's hands with a funny-looking counterclockwise sidespin - and missed, left of the backboard.

A full three feet left of his intended target!

That wasn't just an ordinary air ball.

It was truly a "foul shot."

Terry Schwinghammer is a sports writer for the Greene County Daily World. He can be reached by telephone at (812) 847-4487, ext. 27. He can also be reached via email at tschwing32@yahoo.com.