The 10 Least Credible Superstars in Professional Sports

The title of this list is in no way meant to be an insult to these ten great players. All of them are among the best who ever played their respective games. However, their superstardom often defies conventional logic. In some cases, if you looked at their raw statistics, you might say to yourself, “There is no way they could have made the Hall of Fame.” In other cases, the disbelief comes from a simple hypothetical visual inspection of the athlete at your local restaurant or bakery.

The athletes featured in this list are masters of disguise. If you met most of them on the street, you would never guess they were world-class competitors. If you saw Nikola Jokić in the produce aisle, his height might suggest he plays basketball, but you probably wouldn’t think he was an elite, world-class superstar. You would rightfully mistake many of these legends for bankers, lawyers, college professors, or practitioners of other, more traditional and mundane professions.

In this list, we are going to pull out our microscopes and carefully examine the 10 least credible superstars in the history of professional sports. It’s time for everyone to suit up and put on your game faces: the opening tip-off is in five minutes.

Related: 10 Memorable Intersections Between Alcohol and Sports

10 Nikola Jokić: The Greatest Unathletic Player in NBA History

At 6 feet 11 inches (2.11 m) tall, Nikola Jokić looks less like an NBA superstar and more like a guy you would see at a deli counter ordering extra cheese. He just happens to be more than a foot taller than the average American adult male. While peers like Kevin Durant or the late Kobe Bryant were legendary “gym rats” obsessed with physical perfection, Jokić’s entry into the league was famously relegated to a scrolling text bar at the bottom of a Taco Bell commercial for a “Quesarito.” At that exact moment, he was fast asleep in Serbia.

Nikola Jokić doesn’t have a 40-inch (102 cm) vertical or a chiseled frame, yet he consistently outplays the most explosive athletes on the planet. His peers call Jokić the “Joker” out of respect, but his style of play is different from any other NBA superstar, past or present. He doesn’t rely on vertical leaping or blazing speed because he simply doesn’t have them. Instead, he operates like a grandmaster on a chessboard, using elite passing vision and a soft touch to quietly dismantle defenses.

As a “point center,” he facilitates an entire offense while barely leaving the ground. This cerebral approach makes him nearly impossible to guard because he’s always three steps ahead of the competition. While others sprint, Jokić lumbers, yet the ball always finds its mark with surgical precision.

Jokić’s unique approach works: he’s accumulated three MVP awards and an NBA championship. Despite reaching the summit of the sport, Jokić remains famously indifferent to the spotlight. After winning the 2023 title, he expressed more interest in returning to Serbia for a horse race than attending his own victory parade. He eventually received one of his MVP trophies at his family’s stable in Sombor, arriving on a horse-drawn carriage while wearing a helmet and racing gear. While he is widely considered a historic talent, Jokić often treats basketball as a professional obligation he must fulfill before returning to his true passion for harness racing.^[1]

9 William Foulke: Soccer’s Fattest Superstar

One hundred twenty-six years ago, professional soccer players were typically lean, hungry men looking to escape work in the dirty coal mines of the United Kingdom. William Foulke was a massive exception who looked like he could have eaten the entire mine in a single sitting. Standing 6 feet 4 inches (1.93 m) tall and weighing up to 330 pounds (150 kg), he was a physical anomaly in a sport defined by short, wiry athletes.

If you saw him today, you would likely mistake him for a retired bouncer rather than an elite sportsman. Rather than just playing the position of goalkeeper, Foulke occupied it, leaving almost no room for the ball to squeeze into the net.

His peers were often terrified of him because he treated the rules of the game like a casual suggestion. It was legal at the time for players to barge a goalkeeper into the net to score, but no one could move a human mountain. When Liverpool striker George Allan tried to charge him, Foulke simply grabbed the man by his leg and dangled him upside down until he surrendered.

He was heavy enough to snap a wooden crossbar just by hanging from it, and his temper was equally dangerous. After a controversial FA Cup final loss in 1902, he reportedly chased the referee through the dressing rooms while stark naked and dripping wet from the bath.

Foulke’s intimidating strategy worked, earning him a league title, two FA Cups, and a cap for the English national team. Toward the end of his career at Chelsea, the club hired two small boys to stand behind his goal to accentuate his massive size, inadvertently inventing the concept of ball boys.

He eventually retired to Sheffield to run a pub, where regulars would see him wearing his FA Cup medal on a homemade chain. While he famously claimed he didn’t care what people called him as long as they didn’t call him late for lunch, his legacy remains larger than life.^[2]

8 Roosevelt Brown: Pro Football’s Lowest Drafted Hall of Famer

In January 1953, the New York Giants selected Roosevelt “Rosey” Brown Jr. in the 27th round of the NFL draft. You read that correctly: he was the 321st overall pick. In any normal universe, the odds of a 27th-round pick making the Hall of Fame are astronomical.

When he first arrived at training camp, he didn’t look like a grinder. He showed up wearing fancy street clothes, a mustache, a derby hat, and carrying a tightly wrapped umbrella. He looked more like a jazz musician or a dapper gentleman than a man hired to smash into defensive linemen for a living.

Once the whistle blew, the sleeper pick woke up the entire league. Rosey Brown stood 6 feet 3 inches (1.91 m) tall and weighed 255 pounds (116 kg), yet he possessed a trim waist and looked like a museum statue. While most offensive tackles of the era were stationary roadblocks, Brown was a mobile force of nature. He was famously fast enough to outrun the team’s defensive tackles in wind sprints and sprint downfield alongside the running backs he was blocking for.

The gamble on the 321st pick paid off with one of the most decorated careers in football history. Brown was named to nine Pro Bowls, earned six First-Team All-Pro selections, and anchored the line for the Giants’ 1956 Championship team. He was so dominant that he was named to the NFL’s 100th Anniversary All-Time Team. The Giants used a seemingly worthless pick on a player who ended up staying with the organization as a player, coach, and scout for the next fifty years.^[3]

7 Bill Mazeroski: The Light-Hitting Hall of Famer

In my opinion, there is no question that Bill Mazeroski belongs in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. He is widely considered one of the greatest defensive second basemen of all time, yet his offensive numbers alone might make you doubt his credentials. He had a career batting average of .260, 2,016 hits, and only 138 home runs during a 17-year career. These statistics usually belong to a journeyman utility player rather than a Cooperstown inductee.

However, stats do not tell the whole story. As evidenced by his Hall of Fame induction speech, Mazeroski possessed the intangible factors that define a great competitor: character, grit, determination, and leadership by example.

Visually, “Maz” was just as unassuming as his offensive stat line. Standing 5 feet 11 inches (1.80 m) with a modest build and spending his entire career in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, he looked less like a professional athlete and more like a local blue-collar worker. Despite this average appearance, he mastered the skill that does not show up on a baseball card: preventing runs.

He was a wizard with the glove who turned double plays with a speed and fluidity that set him apart from his peers. He holds the MLB record for double plays by a second baseman, and this defensive consistency carried him to the Hall of Fame despite his quiet bat.

The least credible part of his story involves a moment of irony. Despite being famous for his glove and lack of offensive power, he is responsible for the single most famous swing in baseball history. In Game 7 of the 1960 World Series, the man known for his defense hit the only walk-off home run to ever end a Game 7. It remains one of the most improbable moments in sports history, where the light-hitting, average-sized infielder drove a ball over the fence to defeat the New York Yankees.^[4]

6 Inzamam-ul-Haq: The Overweight Genius of Cricket

Cricket is one of the most popular games in the world, but its popularity changes dramatically based on region. For example, it is a much-loved sport in South Asia, the United Kingdom, and the Caribbean. It is played very little in North and South America and mainland Europe. It is estimated that cricket has approximately 2.5 billion fans worldwide.

Though he might be described as a little bit portly, Inzamam-ul-Haq is widely considered to be one of the greatest cricket players of all time. If you saw him at your local restaurant, you would probably never guess how great an athlete he was.

Visually, Inzamam looked less like a professional sportsman and more like a gentle giant uncle who wandered onto the pitch by mistake. He carried a sleepy demeanor and a physique that hovered around 250 pounds (113 kg), yet he possessed catlike reflexes that allowed him to smash over 20,000 international runs.

While his peers were sculpted athletes, Inzamam often stood in the slip cordon, a fielding position requiring minimal movement, looking like he was waiting for a bus. This contrast between his heavy frame and his lightning-fast bat speed made him a nightmare for bowlers, even if he looked like he belonged in a bakery rather than a stadium.

The most incredible part of his story is that his weight was arguably the source of his power. Before the 2003 World Cup, he succumbed to pressure to look like a modern athlete and lost nearly 40 pounds (18 kg). The result was a disaster; he felt weak, his timing vanished, and his batting average plummeted. He famously stated, “I didn’t score any runs without those 17 kilograms.” While his running between the wickets was often a slapstick comedy routine that resulted in dozens of run-outs, he remains a legend who dominated the sport on his own heavy terms.^[5]

5 Roy “Shrimp” Worters: The NHL’s Shortest Player Ever

One immutable fact of life is this: things inevitably change over time, and they more often change for the better than they do for the worse. Professional hockey players today are taller, faster, and stronger than they were 50 or 100 years ago. For example, the average height of a National Hockey League player today is about 6 feet 1 inch (1.85 m). One hundred and one years ago, when Roy Thomas “Shrimp” Worters made his professional NHL debut, the average height of an NHL player was much lower than it is today.

Worters still holds the crown as the shortest NHL player ever, standing 5 feet 3 inches (1.60 m) tall. Visually, Worters was the ultimate anomaly in a sport known for physical intimidation. If you saw him standing next to his teammates, you would likely mistake him for a jockey or a team mascot rather than the team’s star goaltender. He weighed just 135 pounds (61 kg) and looked like a child who had wandered onto the ice by mistake.

Logic dictates that a goalie of that size could not possibly cover the net, yet Worters used his low center of gravity and acrobatic reflexes to baffle shooters who towered over him. The 1920s and 1930s were far grittier and less politically correct times, so one can only imagine the mental toughness that Worters must have developed to deal with the taunts and jokes thrown his way due to his below-average stature. More importantly, he had to develop an extremely aggressive and fearless style of play to deal with much larger competitors.

Despite his diminutive size, he had a remarkable professional career that included his 1969 induction into the Hockey Hall of Fame. He was the first NHL goalie to record back-to-back shutout games in his first two games with a new team. He accomplished these feats in an era when goalies received very little protection. Roy Worters was a textbook example of skill, grit, and determination counting for far more than height and weight.^[6]

4 Michael Chang: The Tennis David Among Goliaths

In the highly competitive world of professional men’s tennis, above-average height is seen as both a technical and competitive advantage. Taller players typically enjoy superior reach and the leverage to generate massive force on serves. With modern elite superstars averaging around 6 feet 4 inches (1.93 m) tall and serving in excess of 140 miles per hour (225 km/h), Michael Chang was an extreme outlier.

Among dominant Hall of Fame–caliber players, he stood only 5 feet 9 inches (1.75 m) tall and weighed just 160 pounds (73 kg). However, what he lacked in size, he more than made up for in skill, work ethic, and never-quit determination. If you ran into Michael Chang at a non-tennis event, his youthful appearance and slender build would likely lead you to mistake him for a doctor, lawyer, or teacher.

But if you had the pleasure of seeing him play live during his athletic prime, you would realize that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I watched all 8 minutes and 24 seconds of his highlight reel on YouTube: Michael Chang was an athlete with incredible range, blazing speed, and catlike reflexes that allowed him to retrieve balls that seemed impossible to reach.

The moment that cemented his Hall of Fame legacy occurred at the 1989 French Open when he was only 17 years old. Facing Ivan Lendl, the dominant world No. 1, Chang suffered severe leg cramps in the fourth set. Unable to run and barely able to stand, he defied all tennis etiquette and logic by hitting a “moon ball” underhand serve. The tactic shocked Lendl, the crowd, and the tennis world. It was a move you might see at a public park on a Sunday morning, not at a Grand Slam. Yet it worked. Chang won the match and the tournament to become the youngest male Grand Slam champion in history at 17 years and 3 months old. Like other relatively diminutive athletes, you knew that when Michael Chang took the court, you had to consider him a serious threat despite his small stature.^[7]

3 John Daly: The Portly Golf Course Assassin

When John Daly is at his “cruising weight” of about 250 pounds (113 kg), his 5-foot-11-inch (1.80 m) frame suggests he is a business executive, doctor, or politician rather than an elite athlete. At his peak of roughly 300 pounds (136 kg), you would rightfully mistake him for a retired NFL nose tackle. If you showed a picture of Daly to 100 people at a local mall, it is unlikely a single person would guess he is one of the greatest golfers to ever live.

Daly’s career is a masterclass in logic-defying performance. He was the first professional golfer to average over 300 yards per drive for an entire season, using a portly physique to generate more power than his gym-obsessed peers. While rivals like Tiger Woods revolutionized sports science, Daly was famously fueled by a daily intake of dozens of Diet Cokes and enough cigarettes to fill a warehouse. He famously quipped that “water is for fish,” preferring chocolate and fried food over anything remotely healthy.

His rise to superstardom was equally improbable. Daly entered the 1991 PGA Championship as a last-minute alternate, driving through the night to arrive without a single practice round. He proceeded to bludgeon the course into submission while his caddie pointed out the locations of the holes. This “grip it and rip it” philosophy earned him two Major championships, including a historic 1995 Open Championship victory at St. Andrews.

The most jarring part of the Daly story is that his trophies were not won in spite of his vices, but seemingly alongside them. Despite 21 professional wins and a career that moved the needle for golf more than almost any other player, he remains the only eligible two-time Major winner never selected for a Ryder Cup team. Whether he was hitting a golf ball off a beer can or losing millions at a casino, Daly never pretended to be a role model. He played the most elitist game in the world while looking like a guy who just got off a double shift at a construction site, cementing his legacy as the most improbable folk hero in the history of professional golf.^[8]

2 England’s Greatest Female Golfer: Mild-Mannered Dame Laura Davies

If you ran into Dame Laura Jane Davies while she was running errands, her quiet and unassuming demeanor would give you no hint that she is one of the greatest golfers of all time. Her résumé is physically exhausting to read: she has an unbelievable 87 professional career wins. For example, she has won 20 times on the LPGA Tour, an incredible 45 times on the Ladies European Tour, and seven times on the LPGA of Japan Tour.

Standing 5 feet 10 inches (1.78 m) tall with a powerful, sturdy frame, she looks less like a modern fitness-obsessed athlete and more like the friendly neighbor you would run into at your local bakery. The major source of disbelief surrounding her superstardom stems from her legendary lack of conventional professional discipline. While her rivals spent hours with swing coaches and launch monitors, Davies famously treated practice like a chore she preferred to avoid.

She once claimed she would rather go to the dentist than play a practice round, and she often spent her time between tournaments following her true passions: football (soccer) and horse racing. Her self-taught swing was a “grip it and rip it” motion that defied every textbook in the game. In an era of specialized trainers and rigid mechanics, she relied entirely on raw natural talent and a simplistic approach to visualization that focused on imagining the ball in the air rather than worrying about technical positions.

The most incredible part of the Davies legend involves her famous tee habit. For years, instead of using a standard wooden tee for her driver, she would simply use her club to kick up a clump of turf and perch the ball on top of the grass. She did this because she found hitting off a perfect tee too easy and wanted to make the game more difficult to force herself to stay focused. Despite this lack of traditional polish, she became the first non-American to top the LPGA money list and represented Europe in a record 12 Solheim Cups, remaining the all-time leading points scorer in the event’s history.^[9]

1 Greg Maddux: The Professor Who Mentally Defeated His Opponents

We have arrived at the ultimate item on this list. As a lifelong baseball fan, I debated this choice for a long time: Greg Maddux or Ozzie Smith. Smith was smaller than the average elite shortstop, but there have been other undersized shortstops who were all-time greats. What Greg Maddux accomplished was different.

In an era dominated by physically imposing, hard-throwing pitchers, Maddux carved out a 23-year Hall of Fame career built entirely on intelligence, preparation, and precision. He was not gifted with Randy Johnson’s 6-foot-10-inch (2.08 m) height or a 100-mile-per-hour (161 km/h) fastball. Standing 6 feet (1.83 m) tall and weighing about 170 pounds (77 kg), Maddux looked more like a professor than a power pitcher.

Teammates nicknamed him “The Professor” because of his gold-rimmed glasses and studious demeanor. If you saw him at a local library or parent-teacher conference, you would never suspect he was a four-time Cy Young Award winner. While his contemporaries relied on intimidation, Maddux operated with calm, surgical precision, painting the corners of the strike zone with movement so subtle it made the best hitters in the world look confused and helpless.

On October 12, 1997, Maddux threw what many consider the filthiest pitch in baseball history: a two-seam fastball that started on the left side of the plate before curving impossibly back for a called strike three. In a later interview, Maddux explained how a simple scuff on the baseball helped him generate the movement that froze Moisés Alou, a career .303 hitter. Maddux was always thinking on the mound, always searching for even the smallest advantage. He won four Cy Young Awards not through brute force, but through relentless intelligence, cementing his legacy as the least visually credible superstar of them all.^[10]