From the Pitch to the Court: 10 NBA Players Who Played Soccer Before Basketball

I’ve always been fascinated by how athletes from one sport can transition so seamlessly into another, almost as if their bodies were built for more than just one kind of game. Take the NBA, for instance—it’s full of players who, before they ever dribbled a basketball, were kicking soccer balls on grassy fields. It’s not just a fun piece of trivia; it actually shapes the way they move, think, and compete. I remember watching reigning volleyball MVP and Italy captain Simone Giannelli talk about how beating the world No. 1 team didn’t automatically make his squad the “best in the world,” even though they were the defending champions. That kind of humility and big-picture thinking? It’s something you often see in athletes who’ve been shaped by more than one sport. They carry lessons from one arena into another, and that’s exactly what happened with these 10 NBA players who started out in soccer.

Let’s start with someone like Steve Nash. Growing up in South Africa and Canada, Nash was practically born with a soccer ball at his feet. His father was a professional soccer player, and Steve himself played competitively until his teens. You can still see it in his game—the way he moved on the basketball court wasn’t just about speed; it was about fluidity, spatial awareness, and those no-look passes that felt more like perfectly weighted through-balls than traditional assists. Nash himself has said that soccer taught him to read angles and anticipate movement in a way that pure basketball training never could. And honestly, I think that’s why he ended up with eight All-Star selections and two MVP awards. He wasn’t just playing basketball; he was orchestrating plays like a midfielder dictating the tempo of a match.

Then there’s Dirk Nowitzki. Before he became the face of the Dallas Mavericks and an NBA champion, Dirk was a talented young soccer player in Germany. He played as a striker, and if you watch his highlights, you’ll notice his footwork wasn’t just good for a seven-footer—it was elite, period. That shooting form, where he’d rise up and release the ball with such balance? I’m convinced it came from years of adjusting his body mid-stride to strike a moving ball. He retired as one of the top scorers in NBA history, with over 31,560 points, and I’d bet at least a few thousand of those came from skills honed on the pitch.

But it’s not just the superstars. Role players like Pau Gasol also had soccer backgrounds. Pau, who’s from Spain—a country where soccer is practically a religion—grew up playing the sport before switching to basketball in his mid-teens. His footwork in the post was so smooth, so deliberate; it was like watching a center-back elegantly intercept a pass rather than a big man bulldozing his way to the hoop. And let’s not forget his brother, Marc Gasol, who also dabbled in soccer. That Gasol family must have had some serious multi-sport genes! I’ve always felt that Pau’s ability to pass out of the double-team—something he did with the grace of a playmaker—was straight out of soccer’s playbook.

Now, think about Kobe Bryant. Yeah, I know, he’s the ultimate basketball purist in most people’s eyes. But few realize that Kobe spent part of his childhood in Italy, where he played soccer regularly. He credited soccer with teaching him how to create space and use feints—those subtle head and shoulder fakes that left defenders grasping at air. When he’d isolate on the wing, sizing up his opponent before driving to the basket, it reminded me of a winger taking on a full-back one-on-one. Kobe’s footwork was so precise that it almost felt like he was dancing, and I’ve always believed that came from his days on the soccer field.

Another great example is Hakeem Olajuwon. Born in Nigeria, Hakeem played soccer and handball before ever touching a basketball. His famous “Dream Shake” move? It’s basically a series of pivots and fakes that look like something out of a soccer dribbling drill. He’d spin one way, then the other, leaving defenders completely disoriented—almost like a striker nutmegging a defender before slotting the ball into the net. Olajuwon finished his career with over 3,800 blocks, and I think his timing came from that same spatial awareness you develop in soccer, where you have to judge trajectories and intercept passes.

Then there’s Tony Parker. Though he’s French-American and basketball was his main focus, Parker often talked about how soccer influenced his playing style. His ability to navigate the paint, that tear-drop floater he made famous—it all required a level of body control that’s central to soccer. Parker moved like he was weaving through defenders on a fast break, but in a way that felt more like a slalom run than a straight-line sprint. He won four NBA titles with the Spurs, and I’d argue his European upbringing, where soccer is everywhere, gave him a creative edge that some American-trained guards lacked.

Let’s shift to a more recent player: Joel Embiid. Before he became the dominant force we see today, Embiid played soccer and volleyball in Cameroon. He’s said that soccer helped with his agility and coordination, which is obvious when you watch him defend the perimeter or execute those nimble spin moves in the post. At 7 feet tall, he moves with a lightness that’s rare for someone his size, and I’m pretty sure that comes from his multi-sport background. Embiid once mentioned that if he hadn’t focused on basketball, he might have pursued soccer seriously—imagine him as a goalkeeper! With his wingspan, he’d probably have been unbeatable.

And what about Giannis Antetokounmpo? The “Greek Freak” and his brothers grew up playing soccer on the streets of Athens. Giannis has talked about how soccer taught him to use his body in creative ways, and it shows in his euro-step—a move that’s basically a zigzag dribble on the basketball court. When he’s galloping down the lane, changing direction without losing speed, it’s like watching a skilled dribbler evade tackles. Giannis won back-to-back MVPs in 2019 and 2020, and I’ve always thought his unorthodox style stems from those unstructured street soccer games where you learn to improvise.

We can’t leave out Chris Bosh, either. Before his NBA career, Bosh was a decent soccer player in high school. He once said that soccer improved his foot speed and conditioning, which allowed him to become a modern big man who could switch onto guards and defend the pick-and-roll. When Bosh hit that iconic corner three in the 2013 Finals, it wasn’t just a shot—it was the culmination of years of training his body to be versatile, something I believe soccer helped instill in him.

Finally, there’s a guy like Detlef Schrempf from Germany, who played soccer as a kid before switching to basketball. His endurance and all-around game—he was a three-time All-Star—felt influenced by the constant movement required in soccer. Schrempf was known for running the floor like a midfielder on a counter-attack, and I’ve always admired how he never seemed to tire.

Reflecting on all this, it’s clear that soccer does more than just build skills; it builds a certain kind of athlete—one who thinks globally, moves economically, and respects the process. Simone Giannelli’s refusal to crown his team the “best in the world” right after a huge win reminds me of the humility you see in players like Nash or Nowitzki, who never let success go to their heads. Maybe that’s the real secret: these athletes aren’t just crossing over from one sport to another; they’re carrying a whole philosophy with them. And as a fan, I find that incredibly inspiring. It makes me wonder how many other kids out there, juggling a soccer ball today, might be tomorrow’s NBA legends.

By Heather Schnese S’12, content specialist

2025-10-30 09:00