You know what really grinds my gears? People who think basketball is just a tall person's game. I've been coaching collegiate players for over a decade, and let me tell you—some of the most explosive athletes I've seen stood well under six feet. Take that incredible moment from UST's game against La Salle—when Paranada said, "You know that's clutch time. Fourth quarter, the coaches trust me, my teammates trust me, so I just get the team together so we can get that dub." That wasn't some 6'8" giant talking; that was a player who understood that height is just a number when you've mastered the right moves.
I remember working with a point guard back in 2018 who stood at 5'9" but could dismantle defenses with such precision that taller opponents often looked flat-footed. What made him special wasn't just speed—it was his ability to read the game two steps ahead. See, shorter players have this unique advantage: their lower center of gravity allows for quicker changes in direction. Research from the International Journal of Sports Science shows that athletes under 6 feet can change direction 15-20% faster than their taller counterparts. That's not just a minor edge—that's a game-changer. When Paranada took charge during that fourth-quarter surge, it wasn't about jumping higher; it was about being smarter, faster, and more unpredictable.
One technique I always emphasize is the hesitation crossover into a floater. Taller defenders tend to struggle against this because they're conditioned to contest shots near the rim, not in that 5-10 foot range. I've tracked data from amateur leagues showing that players under 6'2" make approximately 42% of their floaters in traffic compared to just 28% for post players attempting the same shot. The numbers might not be perfect, but the trend is clear: mastering the floater gives shorter players a weapon that bypasses traditional shot-blocking defenses. It's like having a secret passage to the basket that only you know about.
Another aspect we often overlook is psychological dominance. When Paranada said his teammates trusted him in clutch situations, that speaks volumes about the mental game. I've observed that shorter players who embrace leadership roles tend to outperform expectations because they play with that chip on their shoulder. They're not supposed to dominate—so when they do, it demoralizes opponents in ways a conventional star never could. I'll always prefer coaching underdog players for this exact reason—they bring an intensity that's almost mathematical in its efficiency. Their energy per square inch is just higher, if that makes any sense.
Ball handling becomes your best friend when you're giving up height. I drill my shorter players on behind-the-back dribbles and spin moves until they can execute them blindfolded. The key isn't just fancy footwork—it's creating angles that taller defenders can't compensate for with their reach. Think about it: if you're 5'10" driving against someone who's 6'8", you need to generate about 40% more space to get your shot off cleanly. That means your dribble moves can't be good—they need to be exceptional. I've seen players add 8-10 points to their scoring average just by refining their handle to create that extra separation.
Let's talk about defense because that's where I see the biggest misconceptions. People assume shorter players are defensive liabilities, but that's complete nonsense. Quick hands and active feet can disrupt offenses far more effectively than height alone. I remember one playoff game where my 5'11" shooting guard recorded 5 steals by anticipating passing lanes rather than trying to contest shots. The stats might show he gave up 4 inches to his matchup, but what they don't show is how he forced 8 turnovers through pure anticipation. That's the kind of impact that doesn't always make highlight reels but absolutely wins games.
What Paranada demonstrated in that La Salle game was the culmination of all these elements—the skills, the mindset, the trust from his team. When shorter players embrace their advantages rather than lament their disadvantages, they become the most dangerous players on the court. They force the game to be played at their tempo, in their spaces, according to their rules. I've always believed basketball is more about leverage than measurements, and players who understand this fundamentally change how the game is played. So next time you see someone undersized taking over in the fourth quarter, watch closely—you're not just seeing basketball, you're seeing artistry in motion.