Stand Tall, Short Kings
A proposal for a 5-foot-7 Hall of Fame.
By Christopher J. Scalia
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The World Cup is over, and (to use the collective plural favored by soccer analysts) Spain are the champions. They defeated Argentina 1-0 in one of the worst World Cup finals ever. It was a disappointing end to a great tournament, especially for Argentina’s star player, Lionel Messi. Barely a factor until the game’s final minutes, Mr. Messi had scored eight goals and made four assists in the previous matches.
Mr. Messi is my favorite player, in large part because he’s so much fun to watch. Even at 39, he changes directions faster than a squirrel crossing a street; he makes beautiful passes across the field; and of course he sends powerful strikes, or graceful curves, or cheeky chip shots—whichever the situation requires—into the goal. But the biggest reason I love Messi is also the smallest: Sometimes called “The Little Magician,” he stands only 5 feet 7 inches.
That’s my height and, I’m happy to report that although it falls short of the average for men, it’s a very hot height right now. That’s due in large part to the World Cup convening some of the most important 5-7ers from around the globe. If an adolescent slang pandemic made 2025 the year of 6-7, this is the summer of 5-foot-7.
Tom Cruise, our elite demographic’s most prominent Hollywood ambassador, briefly took center stage on Sunday, delivering a speech before the final. One of the few highlights of the U.S. loss to Belgium in the Round of 16 was when the Jumbotron showed not-so-jumbo Eddie Vedder—the 5-foot-7 lead singer of Pearl Jam—chugging a beer.
Joining Mr. Cruise in the Hollywood chapter of the 5-7 Club are Al Pacino and Mr. Cruise’s former stunt double, Ben Stiller. Great writers who reach the Messi Mark include W. Somerset Maugham. I learned of Maugham’s stature from a frequent contributor to these pages, the 5-foot-7 Joseph Epstein, whose many excellent essays include one about his height. I’ve read that Evelyn Waugh was also that height and I like him so I believe it.
You’ve probably overlooked that 5-foot-7 men have played an outsized role in global politics lately. The war in Ukraine is a contest between two 5-foot-7 giants. Vladimir Putin and Volodymyr Zelenskyy don’t agree on much these days, but they do see eye to eye. Perhaps this is why the late Lindsey Graham, a member of the 5-foot-7 club himself, took the conflict so seriously. Of U.S. presidents, only John Adams and William McKinley have measured up to Mr. Messi, but don’t cry for them—mountains bear their names.
In professional sports, there’s not much room for short men. That’s especially true in basketball, of course. Long live Spud Webb, the 5-foot-7 guard for the Atlanta Hawks who won the NBA All-Star Dunk Contest in 1986 and made every short kid in America believe he could dunk, too. The NFL always has a few diminutive running backs or kick returners, but the shortest of the NFL GOATs is Barry Sanders, who’s too tall by one inch to ride the 5-7 train. As for hockey, no player has won as many Stanley Cups as 5-7 Hall of Famer Henri “Pocket Rocket” Richard, who drank from 11 in his 20 seasons with the Montreal Canadiens. And no Major League Baseball player has won as many World Series rings as the 5-foot-7 Yogi Berra, who won 10. That’s two for every finger on one hand.
On the diamond, second base is the traditional home for short kings. Joe Morgan of the Cincinnati Reds, nicknamed Little Joe for his 5-foot-7 stature, won the National League MVP for the second consecutive season 50 years ago. This year his height-sake, Atlanta Braves second baseman Ozzie Albies, started the All-Star game at second.
As impressive as these athletes are, none of them are considered the very greatest to ever play their sport. Mr. Messi is.
Height can make a big difference in soccer. Anyone who watched Erling Haaland, the 6-foot-5 Norwegian striker who won over American fans (and vice versa) this summer, can tell you that. That’s especially true on corner kicks and crosses toward the goal, when players are leaping to head the ball. But height matters less for the player sending those balls. Short legs can be powerful and accurate, as Mr. Messi has shown throughout his career—including in his game against England, when he sent a beautiful cross for an assist in extra time to win the game. And the low center of gravity that smaller players have can be an advantage when dribbling through traffic or faking a defender to create space. These are all reasons three of the best players of all time—Mr. Messi, Pelé and Diego Maradona—are 5-foot-8 or shorter.
This was likely Mr. Messi’s last World Cup. That’s a shame, not only because games are more exciting when the ball is at his feet, but because he gives 5-7ers around the world reason to puff out their chests and stand a little taller.
Mr. Scalia is a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and the author of “13 Novels Conservatives Will Love (but Probably Haven’t Read).”