0-9 vs 0-30: Is there a difference? What Sport Psychology Can Teach Us About Pressure and Performance
- Olivia Papakyrikos, M.Ed, LMHC, LPC

- Jun 14
- 4 min read
Written by Zachary Jorgenson, Papakyrikos Therapy & Performance
On Saturday, May 30, 2026, the San Antonio Spurs defeated the reigning champion Oklahoma City Thunder 111-103, clinching the series 4-3 and punching their ticket to the NBA Finals. This series was highlighted by the battle between the Thunder's Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, now a two-time NBA MVP, and the Spurs' up-and-coming generational phenom Victor Wembanyama. However, after the final buzzer sounded, much of the conversation centered around the Game 7 performance of the Thunder's All-NBA forward Chet Holmgren, who finished with 4 points on 1-for-2 shooting, 4 rebounds, and 0 assists.

Before Game 7, Holmgren had averaged 11.8 points, 7.7 rebounds, and 1.1 assists per game while shooting 51% from the field in the series.
This performance brings to mind a quote by Dion Waiters, which he recycled from an interview with Kobe Bryant, according to SBNation. "I would go 0-30 before I would go 0-9. 0-9 means you beat yourself. You psyched yourself out of the game." Regardless of who originally said it, the quote highlights an important message: that an individual can get psyched out of a game.
As a mental performance consultant, any psychological interpretation should be grounded in observable evidence. Before making assumptions about what may be going on inside Holmgren's mind, we have to look at what actually happened on the court first. Holmgren attempted two shots in the opening minutes of the game. He made the first shot, a baseline pull-up jumper over Devin Vassell, and missed the second, a driving floater over Wembanyama, both shots occurring within the first 3 minutes of the game. Shortly thereafter, with the Spurs leading 8-4, Wembanyama received a pass from De'Aaron Fox on a cut to the basket and finished with a posterizing dunk over Holmgren.
From that point forward, something changed.
Holmgren did not attempt another field goal for the remainder of the game, despite playing more than 32 minutes. There were opportunities for him to be involved offensively, but he consistently passed them up, leaving him as an empty part of the Thunder's game plan.
Although we may never know whether that dunk was the reason Holmgren did not attempt another field goal, it raises an interesting question: why can an athlete appear fully engaged one moment and then seemingly disappear from a game the next?
One possible explanation comes from sports psychology through a framework known as the cusp catastrophe model.
The cusp catastrophe model suggests that performance does not always decline gradually under pressure. When an athlete's anxiety and arousal are elevated, performance can become unstable. In these situations, a seemingly small event can serve as a trigger, pushing the athlete past a critical threshold, resulting in a sudden, dramatic change in performance. If there was ever a situation primed for such a shift, it was this one.

Game 7 of the Western Conference Finals carries immense pressure on its own. Add in the expectations of defending a championship, the public scrutiny and comparisons to Wembanyama throughout the series, and the opportunity to advance to another NBA Finals, and it becomes easy to see how anxiety and arousal may have already been elevated before the opening tip.
In sport psychology, arousal refers to an individual's level of excitement, both psychological and physical. Arousal exists on a continuum from deep sleep (low arousal) to intense excitement (high arousal). Each individual has their own range of arousal in which they perform their best. Too little can lead to sluggish starts to games and disengagement. Too much can interfere with attention, decision-making, and execution.
One of the most common consequences of excessive pressure is a narrowing of attention, also known as tunnel vision. Under normal circumstances, elite athletes process enormous amounts of information automatically. They recognize spacing, anticipate defensive rotations, identify scoring opportunities, and react fluidly to the flow of the game. Under pressure, however, attention can become increasingly restricted. Rather than seeing the entire game, athletes begin focusing on a much smaller set of cues.
In Holmgren's case, he might have surpassed his optimal level of arousal after the dunk, becoming overaroused. Typically, when athletes go beyond this threshold, the game begins to feel faster than it actually is. Decision-making can become rushed, attention may narrow, and athletes may process information too quickly, resulting in performance that isn't like their usual self. Instead of playing freely within the confines of the game, overaroused athletes can become caught between action and hesitation. Decisions may be rushed, leading to a less assertive overall approach. An open shot that is normally recognized and taken advantage of is overlooked and passed up, not because of a lack of confidence or ability, but because the athlete isn't seeing the game the same way. The result isn't always recklessness or aggression – sometimes the opposite occurs.
Athletes become hesitant.
They stop seeing opportunities they would normally recognize. They become less involved. They pass up chances to attack. The game that previously felt automatic now feels deliberate and constrained.
Viewed through this lens, Holmgren's performance becomes less about confidence and more about processing information under pressure. An elite-level athlete will always have confidence in themselves. They made it to that level for a reason, because of their skills and abilities. Instead, the aforementioned pressures leading up to Game 7, combined with being on the wrong end of a posterizing dunk by your rival, may have altered how Homlgren perceived and responded to the game.
Of course, none of us can know exactly what Holmgren was thinking or feeling during those 32 minutes. Any psychological analysis from the outside remains an interpretation rather than a certainty.
However, the cusp catastrophe model offers a compelling explanation for why performance can suddenly collapse. Athletes do not always deteriorate gradually under pressure. Sometimes a single moment can act as a tipping point, changing not only how they perform but also how they perceive and experience the game itself.
The physical side of sport is only part of the equation. The mental side helps elite athletes perform extraordinary feats under extraordinary circumstances. And occasionally, when the pressure becomes too overwhelming, it can also explain why one of the best players in the world suddenly seems to disappear.
References:
Hardy, L. (1990). A catastrophe model of performance in sport. In J. Jones & L. Hardy (Eds.), Stress and Performance in Sport (pp. 81-106). John Wiley.
Hardy, L. (1996). A test of catastrophe models of anxiety and sports performance against multidimensional anxiety theory models using the method of dynamic differences. Anxiety, Stress, & Coping, 9(1), 69–86. https://doi.org/10.1080/10615809608249393




Comments