Wilt Chamberlain 100 Point Game

The Night Wilt Chamberlain Scored 100

On March 2, 1962 Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points for the Philadelphia Warriors in a game against the New York Knicks, setting an NBA single-game scoring record that still stands. The game took place in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and the Warriors won 169-147.

Wilt finished the game with 100 points, 36-63 FG, 28-32 FT, 25 rebounds, and 2 assists, while playing all 48 minutes. The achievement remains one of the most iconic moments in NBA history. There is no footage of the game available, though there are radio broadcasts and photos. This 100 point night was just one out of many unbelievable nights for Wilt Chamberlain. This achievement not only set a record for the most points scored in a single game but also solidified Chamberlain’s legendary status in the sport.

Despite his monumental performance, Chamberlain himself emphasized the importance of rebounding over scoring, viewing his 55-rebound game against Boston as a greater personal achievement. His 100-point game has since become a benchmark in basketball, with no player coming close to matching it; Kobe Bryant's 81 points in 2006 stands as the second-highest single-game score. Chamberlain's records in this game, such as field goals and free throws made, still resonate in the NBA today. 

As historic and revolutionary as the achievement was, it remains shrouded in myth. The game was not televised; no New York sportswriters showed up; and a fourteen-year-old local boy ran onto the court when Chamberlain scored his hundredth point, shook his hand, and then ran off with the basketball. In telling the story of this remarkable night, author Gary M. Pomerantz brings to life a lost world of American sports.

Myth, Legend or Real?

Despite the overwhelming evidence, doubt still follows Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game like a shadow. It seems almost too large, too clean, too impossible to accept. In today’s hyper-documented world, the absence of full video footage leaves many feeling suspicious. It’s easy to forget that in 1962, the NBA wasn’t a media giant. Television coverage was limited, highlight reels were rare, and games in remote towns like Hershey, Pennsylvania often went unrecorded. Only 4,124 fans were in attendance that night, and no New York media made the trip. Even the most iconic image from the game — Wilt holding the handwritten “100” sign in the locker room — was captured by an Associated Press photographer who wasn’t even working, but had brought his son and camera along as a fan.

The skepticism thrives in the social media age, where doubt spreads faster than evidence. Platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and Reddit are full of users asking whether the game was real or staged by the NBA to boost its relevance. Even mainstream personalities like Pat McAfee have debated it, questioning whether one man could truly reach triple digits in a 48-minute basketball game. Some have pointed to the modest setting — a drafty old hockey arena 95 miles from Philadelphia — or the quiet headlines the next day, and asked if the whole thing was too conveniently legendary.

But when you start stacking the evidence, the case for authenticity becomes undeniable. There’s fourth-quarter radio audio, preserved by the Library of Congress. There’s the stat sheet, with 36 made field goals, 28 free throws, and 25 rebounds. Teammates like Al Attles and Guy Rodgers gave play-by-play recollections. Knicks players who tried (and failed) to defend him — like Darrall Imhoff, who fouled out in 20 minutes — never denied what happened. Tom Meschery, who played alongside Chamberlain that night, once said, “I watched it happen, point by point.” Writer Gary M. Pomerantz interviewed 56 people who were there — players, officials, arena staff, even a kid who ran on the court and stole the game ball. The stories match. The numbers are consistent. The memory is vivid.

And it wasn’t just one miracle game. That same week, Chamberlain dropped 58 points and 35 rebounds against the same Knicks team at Madison Square Garden. That season, he averaged 50.4 points and 25.7 rebounds — an output so massive it feels computer-generated. He had already scored 78 points in a game earlier that season. Over a three-game stretch before the 100, he scored 67, 65, and 61. That wasn’t momentum — that was normal. Even his free-throw performance that night, often cited as suspicious, came during a short-lived stretch where he shot underhand and had found a rhythm. That night, he hit 28 of 32. Unreal? Yes. Impossible? No — not for Wilt.

Skepticism tends to come from a modern mindset — one that expects every great moment to be backed up with video, social media buzz, and 24/7 news coverage. But the 1962 NBA wasn’t built that way. It wasn’t even the country’s most popular basketball league. What happened in Hershey was simply not treated with the reverence it would get today.

So when people ask if it really happened, the answer is yes. Without a doubt. There’s enough firsthand testimony, physical documentation, and historical consistency to put the debate to rest. This wasn’t a hoax. It was a performance that broke every expectation of what a human could do on a basketball court — and the only reason we still question it is because no one has ever come close since.

The problem isn’t the lack of proof. The problem is that Wilt Chamberlain was just that good.

The 100 Point Game Itself

Pregame

On the morning of March 2, 1962, Wilt Chamberlain’s pregame routine looked more like the start of a hangover recovery than the build-up to the most legendary night in basketball history. He had spent the previous night in New York City, partying into the early hours with a woman. By 6 a.m., he was dropping her off at her apartment. Not long after, still running on zero sleep, Wilt boarded an 8 a.m. train bound for Philadelphia.

He wasn’t thinking about history. He was groggy, possibly hungover, and operating on instinct and rhythm — something he had in spades. Once in Philadelphia, he linked up with friends for lunch, laughing and relaxing like it was any other game day. Then, after the meal, he joined the team bus for the 85-mile ride to Hershey, Pennsylvania. For most athletes, that day would have been a disaster. But for Wilt, it was just another strange prelude to dominance.

Hours before tip-off, with nothing better to do in the small town built around a chocolate factory, Wilt wandered into an arcade near the arena. There, he casually played the Pop-A-Shot-style basketball game — and was lights out. Shot after shot, bucket after bucket, he barely missed. A simple game, but one that oddly echoed what was to come. The man known for his struggles at the free throw line was dialed in, even with rubber balls and metal rims. In hindsight, it felt like foreshadowing.

By the time he stepped onto the court at the old Hershey Sports Arena, Chamberlain was loose, relaxed, and quietly dangerous. The building wasn’t full, the media presence was thin, and no one suspected that basketball history was about to be made. But deep down, Wilt knew something was clicking. The rhythm was there. His body was ready. And as always, he believed in the unstoppable power of his own will.

This wasn’t preparation in the traditional sense — but it was the perfect storm for the perfect storm.

Post Game

The night didn’t end with the final buzzer. After dropping an unimaginable 100 points, Wilt Chamberlain sat calmly in the locker room while teammates celebrated around him. The now-famous photo of him holding a piece of paper with “100” scribbled on it wasn’t orchestrated by the league or media — it came from an off-duty Associated Press photographer who happened to be there with his son. No spotlight, no ceremony. Just a quiet moment that would become the most iconic image in basketball history.

What came next was even more surreal. As the team packed up and loaded into the car for the ride back to Philadelphia, Wilt didn’t talk about the performance. He didn’t replay the shots or soak in the praise. Instead, he leaned back and pretended to sleep. While his teammates buzzed with disbelief, Wilt stayed silent, eyes closed, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. For them, it was history. For him, it was just another night — the natural result of a game he had mastered so completely that scoring 100 points felt less like a miracle and more like inevitability.

There is Proof

• In his three previous games, Chamberlain scored 67, 65 and 61 points.

• Some players later claimed that the Hershey arena’s rims were “sewers,” with a lot of give. Chamberlain, a 61.3% free-thrower that season, hit 28 of 32 from the line.

• The famous photo of Chamberlain holding up a piece of paper with “100” scrawled on it was taken by an AP photographer who wasn’t working that night but brought his son — and a camera — to the game.

• What happened to the game ball? Still a mystery.

• Guard Al Attles, who likes to tell the story of “the night me and Wilt combined for 117 points,” passed up open layups that night to feed his buddy. At halftime Chamberlain had 41 points and teammate Guy Rodgers said, “Let’s get the ball to Dip (Chamberlain’s nickname), see how many he can get.”

• As Herb Caen would say, there’s always a local angle. Former Cal center Darrall Imhoff guarded Chamberlain and fouled out after 20 minutes, but was defense-shamed forever. The Warriors moved to San Francisco the following season.

Writer Gary M. Pomerantz meticulously chronicled the before, during and after of the game in his 2006 book, “Wilt, 1962: The Night of 100 Points and the Dawn of a New Era.” He interviewed 56 eyewitnesses, including 15 players, a referee, an equipment manager, even a local kid who swiped the game ball. There’s not a whisper of doubt in their recollections. “People don’t want to give him his due,” Pomerantz, a lecturer at Stanford, told me. But they should: “Wilt did this because he could,” he said. “He bent the sport to his will.”

More than six decades on, the skepticism surrounding the game provokes Tom Meschery to irritation bordering on anger. Meschery was Chamberlain’s teammate in 1962, a 23-year-old rookie in the first of a 10-year NBA career. He scored 16 points in the game.

“I watched it happen, point by point,” said Meschery, now 85. The doubts about Chamberlain, he suggests, are driven by racism. “There’s an underbelly of White creeps in this country who are happy to question the achievements of an African-American,” Meschery said.

Whole Life was Legendary

That season, Wilt Chamberlain shattered records with an average of 50.4 points per game, setting a single-season scoring mark that still stands. Earlier in the season, he had already broken the NBA single-game scoring record by surpassing his own 71-point performance with an astonishing 78 points. In just his third year, Chamberlain was rewriting the history books. As the game progressed, the New York Knicks resorted to fouling other players in the fourth quarter to prevent Chamberlain from getting the ball, while also slowing the pace on offense to limit the Warriors' possessions. In response, the Warriors used fouls of their own to regain possession, creating a high-stakes back-and-forth.

Wilt Chamberlain’s life was a continuous stretch of seemingly impossible feats, a series of record-breaking accomplishments so extraordinary they feel almost mythic. Yet the proof is irrefutable: from preserved audio recordings to newspaper clippings and firsthand accounts from both teammates and opponents. If examined in a court of law, the evidence would stand strong. The reality is that today's generation isn’t accustomed to seeing someone perform at a level so far beyond what we consider humanly possible, a level that shatters all expectations and redefines the limits of athletic achievement.

Wilt - One of a Kind

Yes, Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points in a single NBA game. No, it wasn’t a hoax. No, it wasn’t exaggerated. And no, it’s not impossible — not when you understand who Wilt Chamberlain truly was. His entire life was filled with achievements so statistically outrageous that they break the limits of our imagination: a 50.4 points-per-game season average, a 55-rebound game, over 23,000 career rebounds, and an entire season without fouling out. He rewrote the record books in the NBA.

There may not be a full broadcast of that night in Hershey, but there’s more than enough to prove what happened: official box scores, eyewitness testimony from players, coaches, and fans, preserved audio of the final quarter, and the iconic photo of Wilt holding the “100” sign. If you demanded evidence in a courtroom, you’d be buried under it.

In today’s era of advanced stats, load management, and social media skepticism, it's easy to look at Wilt’s records and question their reality. But that says more about our current frame of reference than it does about him. Chamberlain was a once-in-history athletic force — bigger, faster, stronger, and more relentless than anyone before or since. His numbers seem unreal because he was unreal.

The 100-point game isn’t a myth. It’s not folklore. It’s a reminder of what happens when one man, in the right moment, bends an entire sport to his will. And that man was Wilt Chamberlain. Some records are never meant to be broken.