You know, watching a player like Jason Perkins explode in a game, it always makes me think about the sheer, raw speed of basketball at its highest level. It’s not just about running fast; it’s about thinking fast, reacting fast, and executing even faster. I remember analyzing a specific performance—Perkins, in a crucial all-Filipino conference game, going 6-of-12 from the field for 19 points and five rebounds to snap a two-game losing streak for Phoenix. What stood out wasn’t just the stats, but the pace of his impact. He wasn’t the fastest guy on the court in a sprint, but his game speed—his ability to read, cut, shoot, and rebound in rapid, decisive sequences—was the difference-maker. That’s the kind of speed we should all be chasing. It’s a trainable skill, not just a genetic gift. Over years of coaching and playing, I’ve come to rely on a core set of drills that build this exact type of functional, in-game velocity. Forget just ladder drills in isolation; we’re talking about integrated, high-intensity work that mirrors the chaotic beauty of an actual possession.

Let’s start with something I swear by: the outlet pass to sprint-finish drill. This one is brutal but transformative. You start under the opponent’s basket, toss the ball off the backboard, grab the rebound, pivot, and fire a baseball pass to a teammate (or a target on the wall) at the opposite free-throw line. Then, you sprint the full length of the court, catch a return pass in stride, and finish at the rim—no dribbles allowed. The goal is to get the shot up within 4 seconds of the initial rebound. It trains your mind to shift from rebounder to passer to scorer in a flash, under physical duress. I’ve seen players shave nearly a full second off their transition time in about six weeks of consistent work. Another personal favorite is the “chaos closeout” series. You set up five spots around the three-point line. A coach or partner has two balls. You sprint to close out on spot one, then immediately slide to spot two, but instead of a closeout, you receive a pass for a one-dribble pull-up. Then you sprint to spot three for a closeout, to spot four for a catch-and-shoot three, and so on. The pattern is random, the commands are shouted, and the fatigue is real. It forces your defensive reactions and offensive footwork to become one fluid motion. I’m biased towards drills that combine offense and defense because, well, that’s the game. Pure conditioning drills bore me to tears and often don’t translate.

Ball-handling speed is a different beast entirely. For that, nothing beats the two-ball, alternating pound drill with a visual cue. You’re pounding two balls simultaneously, but here’s the twist: a partner stands in front of you holding up numbers with their fingers. Every 3-4 seconds, they shout a number, and you have to shout back the number that was two digits higher, all while maintaining rhythm. It sounds silly, but it builds a cognitive load that simulates reading the defense while managing the dribble. Your dribbling speed will increase because your brain is forced to automate the physical task. Now, for shooting speed, I diverge from the traditional “catch-and-shoot” static drills. I prefer the “slide-and-fire” drill. Start at the corner, execute a defensive slide to the wing, receive a pass, and you have 0.8 seconds to get the shot off. The passer counts down from three aloud. The time constraint is non-negotiable. It’s punishing—your percentage will plummet at first—but it builds the kind of game-speed shooting muscle memory that separates players like Perkins, who can get a quality shot off against tight defense. I’d estimate that 70% of players practice their shot at a game-like pace, which is a recipe for stagnation.

We can’t talk speed without discussing the first step. The classic cone explosion drill is good, but I add a reactive element. You set up in a triple-threat stance facing a partner. They point left or right, and you must explode past a cone in that direction, then immediately decelerate and retreat. The key is the “go” signal being visual, not verbal. It trains the fast-twitch, visual-reactive burst that beats your defender on a live play. For rebounding speed, I love the “tap-out” circuit. Position yourself in the paint, toss the ball off the backboard, jump, tap it back up, land, and immediately jump again to secure it. Do this for three consecutive jumps. It’s about that second and third effort and training your hands to be quick at the apex of your jump, not just on the way up. My least favorite drill that I still mandate is the full-court, dribble-at-max-speed layup. One ball, from baseline to baseline, finishing with a layup, then immediately turning and doing it back. The rule is you must dribble as fast as you can while maintaining control. Most players discover their “top speed” dribble is much slower than their sprint speed. The goal is to close that gap. Do five reps, rest 90 seconds, and repeat for three sets. It’s a gut check.

Ultimately, increasing your game speed isn’t about a single magical drill. It’s a mindset cultivated through deliberate, integrated, and cognitively challenging practice. It’s about practicing tired, practicing with distractions, and practicing with a stopwatch. When I saw Perkins put up that efficient 19-point game to break a losing streak, I didn’t just see a good shooter; I saw a player operating on a faster cognitive and physical clock than his opponents that night. He got to his spots quicker, released the ball faster, and made decisions a split-second sooner. That’s the blueprint. By incorporating these seven drills—focusing on transition, two-way agility, cognitive dribbling, pressured shooting, reactive first steps, quick-jump rebounds, and full-court speed dribbling—you’re not just running lines. You’re engineering your nervous system and your skillset for the high-speed reality of the game. Start slow to learn the movements, but then you have to push the tempo in practice relentlessly. The game won’t wait for you, and as Perkins showed, sometimes the entire outcome hinges on who can play just a little bit faster.