It's nothing personal. It's just good business.
That's the new mantra I have adopted in my recent restless nights. This insomnia is due to the recent purchase of Converse, Inc. by the giant of the athletic shoe industry: Nike, Inc.
You heard me right gang: Nike now owns Converse and all that goes along with it. That includes Jack Purcell's and One Stars -- two fine shoe lines, I must say.
While those Converse brands would most definitely be first-ballot entries into my Shoe Hall of Fame, it is Nike's new ownership of the greatest sports shoe of all-time, the legendary Chuck Taylor All Star, that is the reason for my distress.
Granted, Converse has been in major financial trouble for some time now. In fact, it filed for bankruptcy back in January of 2001 and moved its production from North Carolina to Asia. That was bad enough. The great American shoe was no longer American made.
At least Chucks were still in the house of the father then. Now they've been adopted by Nike, and the world will never be the same.
Sure, Nike is going to keep Chucks around. I'm not worried about that. Just as New Balance has relaunched the PF Flyer, Nike will use All Stars to compete in the ever-expanding "retro" market. It is the corruption of an American classic that's the splinter under my skin.
Say this outloud just once: the Nike Chuck Taylor All Star.
Blah.
I choke on the words like a poorly-chewed burrito. They sit on my tongue as if they were battery acid and fiberglass. Now I know the taste of wrongness.
Could you possibly imagine a Nike swoosh on a pair of Chucks? While we're at it, why don't we just throw a Chevy bow on a Studebaker? Nike's messing with more than just shoes here, people, it is turning America on its head.
America will adapt, though. I have no worries there.
In 20 or 30 years, the youth of this country will probably have no idea of the legacy of Chuck Taylor, a former semi-pro basketball player from Akron, Ohio, that in the 1920s carefully crafted a basketball shoe out of rubber and canvas that would dominate the game for almost half a century. America will forget, move on and be fine.
It is me that I'm worried about.
I love Chucks with a passion. I still remember my first pair: black hi-tops with red and white stripes up the ankle. I remember drawing on the rubber soles of various pairs from middle school on when class got too boring.
I remember having members of my senior class sign my then current pair on the last of my days at Valparaiso High School. I remember tearing up a little every time a pair had to be retired to the back of my closet. Chucks have always been there for me, and I'll never forget that.
Maybe it seems a little crazy, maybe even sad, for me to have such loyalty to a shoe, but I don't think so. The clothes make the man, after all, right?
So I will stockpile as many pairs of All Stars as I can before the swoosh slides into the star's place. I will tell my children of Chucks' glory days. I will continue keep all my worn out pairs, no matter how ratty they become. And I will shun the Nike Chuck Taylor All Star for as long as I live.
Sorry Nike, it has nothing to do with business.
It is just personal.
Write to Cole at cpmcgrath@bsu.edu
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