Splash. Wet. Making it rain. Basketball is a sport dominated by water. The closer a player is to achieving liquid state, the closer they are to perfection. The better they are from the field, the smoother the transition is away from reality and into the world of water.   

But once we delve into the world of solids and gasses, we lose cohesion. Airballs? Bricks? Evil, bad, horrible. The moment our liquids freeze up and solidify, we’re ice cold. It’s no use having a player that’s firm and stable in form, they need to be able to turn into liquid on command. Have we ever stopped to ask why?

Every living thing needs water to live. It’s vital. It’s like what the fadeaway was to Dirk. What the midrange is to DeMar. What kicking dudes in the nuts is to Draymond. People grow up around water. More than a third of Americans live in a coastal county, despite the thousands of miles in between the Atlantic and Pacific. The masses yearn for water. 

What makes water so good, besides the fact that we need it? It’s smooth. It’s fluid. Water is refreshing. It’s visually appealing. Sometimes I’ll just come across moving water and sit and watch it for a few minutes, just like how I can go to YouTube and watch Kemba Walker highlights. It’s the closest thing to actual water.

But too much water can kill, however. If we drink enough of it, it will result in death. Just take a look at Wilt. He turned into pure water that day in Hershey, Pennsylvania, en route to scoring 100 points. The human body at any given time, is 60% water. On March 2, 1962, Wilt was probably as close to 100% as we’ll ever get. 

Now, there’s an entire subsection on social media, (my generation could be to blame) claiming he never even got to the century mark. That a human isn’t capable of being that fluid. That Wilt, the original star and lover of fine jazz, never scored 100 points because that feat is for some reason impossible.

In people’s minds, there’s a line designating the highest human/water ratio possible. It’s in between whatever percent Kobe was on January 22, 2006, and Wilt’s (arguably impossible) ratio back in the 60s. (Side note, but the odds that both teams, the entire arena, and local media somehow lost track of Wilt’s points or fabricated this narrative out of thin air has to be astronomically low, right? Can we all agree that Wilt scored 100, please?) 

Luka could probably reach 90 points before internet conspiracy theorists claim that Gregg Popovich told his team to play off on defense to boost TV ratings. That’s about the most liquid a player can get while still retaining permanent plausibility with the online crowd.

There’s a physical connection to water, too. Water isn’t rough around the edges. There’s no carbonation or surprise flavor. It’s smooth. Like a Carmelo Anthony jumpshot. Go find highlights of Melo or maybe Cam Thomas. (Shoutout Cam Thomas.) That form and product physically resembles water about as close as a human can get. 

The ball doesn’t just have to go in. It has to miss the rim, be devoid of all other contact besides the net, because the moment the ball hits the rim, the water spills. Even if it rims in, it’s not the same. It’s not water. It has to be a swish. A splash, really. Liquid. 

I don’t want to hit a shot in a pickup game then ponder why I call my shot water. (It doesn’t happen often, I’m sorry. I’m a glue guy.) But there exists a connection between fluidity and the peak of basketball. The sport itself isn’t inherently violent like American football. There’s a three-point line for a reason. Basketball rewards smoothness, and there is nothing smoother than water. 

It’s why we feel the need to categorize missed shots as bricks. Bricks are quite literally the opposite of water, the nemesis of smoothness. Bricks are antithetical to the goal of basketball and must be eradicated at all costs. 

But water, water is what every player should strive to be. Every player knows that, subliminally. It’s why Drake (ew) says he’s “wet like I’m Book.” (Devin Booker, of course.) It’s why the Splash Brothers are the Splash Brothers. Just like water is the most important part of life, it’s also the most important part of the game of basketball. Basketball imitates life.