Remembering Nike

And High School sports

When I was a teenager, my father owned a Nike store. This was long before the time when Nike stores were owned by Nike.

Photo by Samuel Isaacs on Unsplash

Last night, at a Scottish Rite meeting, a couple of memories from that time resurfaced for me.

The gym at my high school had a big wall covered with signs from all the local businesses that supported the school’s athletic programs. I remember that the sign for my dad’s store was always the biggest, because he donated the most money. I also remember that I used to be quite proud of that. Proud that he was stepping up to support us.

He never said anything negative about it, but looking back with more wisdom than one holds as a teenager, I don’t imagine he was proud at all. I imagine that he was sad. And probably angry.

For the most part, other than me, none of the kids wore Nike shoes for the games. Nor did they wear the shoes from his main competitor in the area, the guy who owned the Adidas store just down the street.

Virtually every kid wore shoes from some brand that no one had ever heard of, and that I don’t think even exists anymore.

I know this memory is sound, because it is paired with a memory of the one kid who showed up for football one year in Nike shoes. I distinctly remember how odd that was.

Kids in my school wore Nike, to school.

They didn’t wear Nike for sports.

Because the coaches were bribed by some no-name shoe outfit.

At the expense of the local businesses who actually gave money to support the school’s athletic programs.

Shortly before the start of each sports season, the coaches would pull all the kids together into a meeting and talk about the wonderful, amazing, stupendous, no named, but oddly extremely expensive, shoes that they had found. Shoes that would optimize performance. Shoes that would help us win. The greatest shoes in the world. Shoes only available through them.

If one wanted to be a team player, one needed to buy the coach’s recommended shoes.

Shortly afterwards, the shoe salesman guy would show up after school, get everyone measured, take their parents money, and order the shoes.

With a kickback to the coaches, of course.

I imagine my father was sad about all of this, and probably angry too, for that company certainly didn’t have a sign on the wall denoting their financial support of the school’s athletic programs.

These memories came back to me yesterday evening because the Scottish Rite Valley is purchasing a new freezer. There was some discussion about the freezer last night when those of us who arrived early were sitting around the table, waiting for the meeting to begin.

One of the guys came in and mentioned that he’d found a better price for the size of freezer needed at one of the nationwide big box stores.

That report got a powerful reaction.

A very passionate discussion about how the local appliance store has, for as far back as anyone can remember, visibly supported the community. About how the store has been there, right along with the Masons, giving money and talent wherever there is a need.

It was quickly decided that the Valley saving thirty-five bucks or so on a freezer just wasn’t worth it. That the Valley had a duty to support the business that in turn supports the community.

The discussion then broadened into the need for groups that want to do good for their communities, like our Lodges, needing to not forget that our purchasing decisions can positively impact our community, just like our donations can.

That to help our community thrive, we need to spend wisely, and sometimes doing so means paying a little bit more to support a local business that has, like us, been there a long time, giving money and effort to address needs within the community.

And I think that’s right.

Our Masonic organizations do well to think about where we spend our money, if one of our strongly held goals is the improvement of our community.

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