Read on Kindle* page # may be slightly off.

Read 05.16.2020 with Kevin Hong & Junbai Park

“The world was so overrun with war and pain and misery, the daily grind was so exhausting and often unjust— maybe the only answer, I thought, was to find some prodigious, improbable dream that seemed worthy, that seemed fun, that seemed a good fit, and chase it with an athlete’s single-minded dedication and purpose. Like it or not, life is a game. Whoever denies that truth, whoever simply refuses to play, gets left on the sidelines, and I didn’t want that. More than anything, that was the thing I did not want.” (4)

 

Perhaps it is a common sentiment of budding adulthood. A desire to win the game of life. To romanticize the chase for success and the struggle to overcome the lowest of odds. Most importantly, we fetishize control and responsibility. The rolling of the die does not empower the outcome, but the hand that decides when to let go.  

Shoe Dog describes the series of dice rolled by Phil Knight, the father of Nike. Although not intended as a guide to a successful start-up, there is much that can be learned within its contents (my main takeaway: Win people’s hearts, not their money). However, in this reflection, I will not be going over the corporate management lessons you may have picked up in your own reading. Rather, I want to dive deeper into two thoughts I had while reading Shoe Dog.  

 

1. Be prepared to be lucky.

Mr. Knight’s recollection of his decision making and leadership in Nike carries an air of humility that amplifies the role of luck to a greater proportion. And yes, perhaps lady luck did gaze upon him. What if Coach Bowerman wanted more ownership of Blue Ribbon (name before Nike)? What if the first full-time employee, Johnson, did not care as much as he did about shoes? What if Ito from Nissho bank refused to pay Blue Ribbon’s crushing debt?

It would be easy to dismiss the lack of such outcomes as luck, but Mr. Knight was prepared to be lucky. Specifically, his translucent dedication to Nike seem to be what favored his fortune (I was going to say honesty, but let’s be real, there were times he wasn’t very honest to Onitsuka Tiger). In other words, if things didn’t turn out the way they did, I am convinced that Mr. Knight would still have tried his best to return Nike under lady luck’s spotlight. It would never really be game over, until he gave up himself. He was prepared to be lucky, but he was also prepared to not be. Was luck in his favor when Onitsuka Tiger schemed to stop cooperating? Or when other shoe companies challenged Nike with import tax claims? I wouldn’t think so.

In reflection, I ask myself whether I am doing my best to be lucky. The answer being no, there is a lot of work to be done.

 

2. The cost of success.

This second thought I had while reading was a fleeting one, but it really hit the mark. When discussing the death of his son Matthew, who died in a scuba-diving accident, Mr. Knight refers to Matthew as an encrypted code that he could not decipher.

 

“Of course, above all, I regret not spending more time with my sons. Maybe, If I had, I could’ve solved the encrypted code of Matthew Knight.” (381)

 

Understandably, this is probably because running a company takes time and effort, both of which are finite resources no matter how much money you have.

 

“This might have been the one problem I couldn’t solve by brainstorming with my fellow Buttfaces. Vastly trickier than how to get midsoles from Point A to Point B was the question of Son A and Son B, how to keep them happy, while keeping Son C, Nike, afloat.” (304)

 

I bring attention to these passages because it is a question we must all ask ourselves. How much do we want to succeed, and what are we willing to sacrifice for it? Or perhaps, how can we stay more conscious of the sacrifices we are making in order to succeed?

As we romanticize the struggle and think to ourselves that if we only had the chance to achieve greatness we would throw everything else away for it, the question that pops up into mind is, will it be worth it? And, can the greatness we describe be achieved without such sacrifices?

 

 

As always, my favorite snippets are listed below:

“Now Jaqua said he’d never seen Bowerman this pumped up about an idea. I liked the sound of that. “But,” he added, “fifty-fifty is not so hot for the Coach. He doesn’t want to be in charge, and he doesn’t want to be at loggerheads with you, ever. How about we make it fifty-one-forty-nine? We give you operating control?”” (50)

 

“Belief, I decided. Belief is irresistible.” (55)

 

“Each new customer got his or her own index card, and each index card contained that customer’s personal information, shoe size, and shoe preferences. This database enabled Johnson to keep in touch with all his customers, at all times, and to keep them all feeling special. He sent them Christmas cards. He sent them birthday cards. He sent them notes of congratulation after they completed a big race or marathon. Whenever I got a letter from Johnson I knew it was one of dozens he’d carried down to the mailbox that day. He had hundreds and hundreds of customer-correspondents, all along the spectrum of humanity, from high school track stars to octogenarian weekend joggers.” (90)

 

“I phoned Bowerman and told him that Full-Time Employee Number One was staging a mutiny. Bowerman listened quietly, considered all angles, weighed the pros and cons, then rendered his verdict. “Fuck him.”” (105)

 

“After he and I went together to sign the Tigard lease, I asked him if he’d like to change jobs, become operations manager for Blue Ribbon. No more sales calls. No more schools. Instead he’d be in charge of dealing with all the things for which I didn’t have the time and patience. Like talking to Bork in L.A. or corresponding with Johnson in Wellesley. Or opening a new office in Miami. Or hiring someone to coordinate all the new sales reps and organize their reports. Or approving expense accounts. Best of all, Woodell would have to oversee the person who monitored company bank accounts. Now, if he didn’t cash his own paychecks, he’d have to explain the overage to his boss: himself.” (149)

 

“No matter the sport— no matter the human endeavor, really— total effort will win people’s hearts.” (209)

 

“In Korea, for instance, the five biggest factories were so massive, and the competition among them so cutthroat, we knew we were going to get knocked off soon. Sure enough, one day I received in the mail a perfect replica of our Nike Bruin, including the trademark swoosh. Imitation is flattery, but knockoff is theft, and this theft was diabolical. The detail and workmanship, without any input from our people, was startingly good. I wrote the president of the factory and demanded he cease and desist or I’d have him thrown in jail for a hundred years. And by the way, I added, how would you like to work with us? I signed a contract with his factory in the summer of 1977, which ended our knockoff problem for the moment. More important, it gave us the capacity to shift production in a huge way, if need be. It also ended once and for all our dependence on Japan.” (312)

 

“So much to do. So much to learn. So much I don’t know about my own life.” (384)