Can Playing Basketball Make You Taller? The Science and Facts Explained

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked, usually by anxious parents or hopeful teenagers on the court, “Does playing basketball actually make you taller?” It’s a pervasive belief, almost a piece of sports folklore. You look at the professional leagues, at players like the 6-foot-9 import Romero who’s been dominating in the EASL, first with the Suwon KT Sonicboom and now returning to the fray, and the correlation seems undeniable. The court is filled with giants. But as someone who’s spent years both studying sports science and coaching youth teams, I’ve learned to separate compelling narrative from biological fact. The short, straightforward answer is no, playing basketball does not directly cause your bones to grow longer. However, to leave it at that would be to ignore a fascinating web of factors where perception, selection, and indirect benefits create a powerful illusion—and some very real advantages.

Let’s start with the hard science of height. An individual’s ultimate height is predominantly determined by genetics, with estimates suggesting heredity accounts for about 60% to 80% of the variation. The remaining percentage is influenced by environmental factors, primarily nutrition during childhood and adolescence. Growth occurs at the epiphyseal plates, or growth plates, located near the ends of our long bones. These plates are made of cartilage and are the sites where new bone tissue is produced, leading to lengthening. Once a person reaches the end of puberty, typically between ages 14 and 18 for most, these plates ossify and fuse, sealing your genetic height potential. No amount of jumping, stretching, or hanging from a rim can reopen them or stimulate further longitudinal bone growth. That’s a biological dead end. So, if a 16-year-old is playing basketball intensely, any height gain they experience is almost certainly due to their natural, genetically-timed growth spurt happening concurrently, not because of the sport itself.

Now, this is where it gets interesting, and where the confusion blossoms. Basketball, as a sport, has a powerful selection bias. It favors taller individuals. Think about it: a taller player has a natural advantage in rebounding, shooting over defenders, and defending the rim. This creates a funnel effect. From youth leagues all the way to professional circuits like the EASL, the system naturally identifies and promotes athletes who are already genetically predisposed to be tall. We see the end result—the Romeros of the world—and our brains reverse-engineer the causality. We don’t see the thousands of kids who played fervently but remained average height; we see the spectacular outliers who made it to the elite level precisely because of their stature. It’s a classic case of survivorship bias. The sport doesn’t create the height; it showcases and rewards pre-existing height.

But to dismiss the connection entirely would be a mistake in my view. While basketball doesn’t stretch your bones, it can positively influence posture and functional height, which is arguably just as important. The sport demands constant upright posture, core engagement, and spinal elongation during movements like rebounds and blocks. Years of this can combat the slouching habits developed from modern sedentary life. I’ve seen players gain what looks like an extra inch simply by standing with the confident, shoulders-back posture the game ingrains. Furthermore, the high-impact, weight-bearing nature of jumping and running is excellent for bone density. During the growth years, proper nutrition coupled with this kind of physical activity helps ensure that an individual reaches their full genetic potential for height. A malnourished, sedentary child might not achieve that full potential, whereas an active, well-fed one will. In this indirect way, basketball can be part of the environmental package that supports optimal growth, but it is not the growth engine itself.

There’s also a psychosocial component I find compelling. Being in an environment where height is celebrated can subtly influence a young person’s self-perception and even their physical presence. I remember a player on my old junior team who wasn’t the tallest, but his relentless effort and the culture of the team made him carry himself like a much taller athlete. This intangible factor, while not measurable in centimeters, contributes to the overall aura of a “basketball player’s physique.” Plus, let’s be honest, the sport often attracts taller families—again, genetics at play. If your parents are tall and they encourage you to play basketball, your height was likely in the cards anyway.

So, circling back to Romero and his EASL contemporaries, their towering presence is a testament to the sport’s selective nature, not its transformative power. Should you encourage your child to play basketball in hopes of adding inches? If height is the sole goal, you’d be better off focusing on nutrition, sleep, and overall health. But if you want them to develop strength, coordination, teamwork, and possibly cultivate a posture that maximizes their innate stature, then basketball is a phenomenal choice. It won’t rewrite their genetic code, but it can help them write the best possible version of their physical story. In the end, the game makes giants not by lengthening bones, but by building the character and physique that make the most of the height you already have. And sometimes, that perceived difference is everything on the court.