It’s 11:30 p.m., approaching midnight, and Brett Kingma is alone at Matthew Knight Arena.
Well, not entirely alone. His teammates are gone, practice having ended far earlier in the day. There aren’t any coaches here either, and every last seat in the arena is folded and empty. The only inhabitants of this place now are Kingma and a student manager who sits directly under the basket.
Kingma was feeling restless earlier and decided to head back to the arena to take a few extra shots. He has a key card to get into the arena any time before 11 p.m., just as all the rest of the players do, and on this night he decides to extend his stay even longer.
Slowly and precisely, he makes his way through his routine. He starts at the baseline and works his way around the key. Bank shots, dribble pull-ups — any shot he could feasibly see in a game situation will be practiced. Then he moves to the three-point line and repeats the exercise.
Kingma is a shooter, after all, and this is what shooters do. Oregon’s freshman guard from Mill Creek, Wash., used to take 500 shots every day, give or take, in high school, but now he’s trying to carve out a new routine. It’s not quite as regimented, with the rigors of class and practice to manage, and so Kingma has settled for more of a freewheeling approach. If his shot felt off-kilter in practice earlier in the day, or he’s just plain bored, he’ll call up a manager and hit the gym. Which is exactly what he has done on this night, as the clock ticks and one day melts into the next.
Bank shot, pull-up, baseline three — there’s no one here to guard him now, but when the lights come on and the next opponent strolls onto the Kilkenny Floor, you can count on one thing.
Kingma will be ready.
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He’s been ready for most of his life, really. Even growing up, when he was playing his first organized ball in kindergarten and learning the craft of shooting from his father, Gregg (a former college player himself), Kingma would dream about being good. He had an edge to him, a quiet confidence he was better than the players around him. Someday, he’d be able to prove it with a college scholarship.
That feeling was amplified in eighth grade when Kingma was finally forced to play at his own age level. His father had always placed him with peers that were a year older than him to up the ante a bit. Once eighth grade hit, and Kingma was barred from competing against high school freshman, he finally found himself at a level playing field. And as it turned out, he really was better than most players his age. Dreams began to morph into reality.
“I just felt like I was in another class,” Kingma says. “So I just knew if I kept working hard that I’d be able to do something with it.”
Working harder than others wouldn’t be any problem. Kingma had plenty of built-in advantages. For one, there was a full sports court in his backyard where he could practice to his heart’s desire. Gregg Kingma also purchased two gym memberships for his son — one at a smaller gym with pick-up games aplenty and the other more of a practice gym where father could rebound for son.
It was through this vigilant and relentless practice regimen that a sharpshooter was born. By his junior year at Jackson High School, Kingma was a star. He averaged 25 points, four assists and four steals as Jackson battled its way all the way to the Washington Class 4A title game. He was named the Washington Interscholastic Basketball Coaches Association’s Class 4A Player of the Year in 2011, and soon Arizona State, Washington and BYU came calling. Oregon eventually won out though, and Kingma’s dream of earning a college scholarship had come true.
There was still plenty left to accomplish, though — plenty to keep shooting for.@@i c wat u did thurr@@
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Basketball stars don’t stop once they get to college, after all. The scholarship was only half the battle — what really mattered was earning it on the court. And, as so many have found in years past, this is easier said than done.
Despite all of the practicing, the extra shooting sessions and steadfast attention to detail, Kingma struggled out of the gate. Through the season’s first four games, he shot just .348 from the field and .267 from beyond the arc. It’s frustrating, sure, but — like any proficient shooter — he knows what he needs to do.
Keep shooting.
It’s a slump, and even the best go through them. They linger for a painfully long stretch at times, but the cure is always the same.
“Especially these last couple games, I felt like I haven’t been shooting it that great,” Kingma says. “But I know that if I just keep shooting through it that it’s probably just an adjustment thing that I’ll be able to fix.”
Fellow guard Garrett Sim has gone through this before, and his advice to the freshman is similar.
“He’s just got to keep shooting and stay confident with his shot,” Sim says. “Everyone goes through ups and downs, especially in college, and early in their career. I definitely went through it, and he’s just got to keep his confidence up and tell him to keep shooting and things will work out for him.”
Oregon head coach Dana Altman, for his part, has been impressed with Kingma despite the shooting struggles. Slow starts are to be expected; he knows this. What he asks for is hard work and hustle, particularly on defense. And on this front, Kingma has made great strides.
“He’s like a lot of freshmen — he wants it to happen right away,” Altman says. “It just takes a while to make the adjustment. But I like him as a player, he’s making big strides defensively all the time. I like the progress he’s making.”
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If there’s a particular beauty within the game of basketball, it can be found in its flexibility. It’s a team game, for sure, but it also doesn’t forbid a round of solitaire. Practices and games can end, but the ball and basket remain, and the court forever holds a reservation for one.
Kingma has become a regular at this table, refining his craft as he’s done for more than a decade now.
It’s 11:30 p.m., approaching midnight, and the shots just keep going up. Again and again and again and again.