Dirty tricks is the name of the game, and neither gives a quarter
WHEN Reebok clinched the official sponsorship for the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, Nike inundated the city with billboards specially constructing a Nike building overlooking the Olympic park and running gory ads showing runners throwing up and boxers bleeding.
Nike CEO Phil Knight reportedly does not attend any meeting at which Reebok CEO Paul Fireman is also present. When Nike's ice skating mascot Tonya Harding knifed rival—and Reebok endorser—Nancy Kerrigan, Knight shelled out $25,000 in legal fees for Harding just to spite his rival.
This is full-scale war across the planet. Both Nike and Reebok want to capture every pair of feet on earth. Both have the same target audience: teenagers, Generation X-ers, athletes. Both sell high-price sneakers sourced from low-price countries. Both are entrepreneur-driven companies that have grown at a scorching pace. Together they control more than 50 per cent of the US market and around 40 per cent of the global athletic wear segment.
In the 1970s, Nike captured the US market by creating sports icons. In the 1980s, Reebok capitalised on the jogging fever. In the 1990s, Nike has struck back with its high-profile endorsements and has been stretching the lead since. Today, both flaunt impressive endorser lists. If Nike has an Andre Agassi, Tiger Woods and Michael Jordan, Reebok has Shaquille O'Neal, Michael Chang, Jurgen Klinsmann. Nike surged ahead with its Air technology, but Reebok has replied emphatically with its DMX series 2000. Now Nike is getting into events sponsoring and refocussing on apparel. Meanwhile, stories of the rivalry keep getting juicier.