My Cousin began working for Blue Ribbon Sports, the company that would become Nike, in the late sixties. BRS essentially supplied designs to Onitsuka (Tiger, now ASICS) for manufacture in Japan, and had in turn exclusive distribution rights in the U.S. My first pair of real running shoes, as opposed to the low-cut Chucks I had been running in, were Tiger Marathons sent to me by my cousin. I subsequently bought some training shoes, Tiger Viccas, from the BRS warehouse my aunt ran under the White Stag sign on the Burnside Bridge in Portland.
Early in the 70s, it became apparent that Onitsuka, in violation of the exclusive agreement with BRS, was distributing through other companies as well, and a lawsiut was brought. While it worked its was through the courts, BRS formed its own manufacturing company, the result of which was a period during which both Nike and Tiger marketed several models that were identical except for the stripes and swooshes.
In 1973, my cousin was married at the farm of a good friend near Wren, Oregon, outside of Corvallis, along the Mary's River. After the ceremony, while most of the guests, which included most of the employees of the fledgling company, were drinking and swimming in the river, I took off for a run along the railroad right-of-way.
On my return, a number of well-oiled Nike employees spotted my Viccas, and were about to toss me in the river when none other than Phil Knight intervened on my behalf, knowing I'd come by my ancient Tigers "honestly."
Soon thereafter, I found myself in possession of my frst pair of Nike Cortez, by far the most advanced running shoe in the world at the time, the only one with a dual-density midsole. It appeared on the cover of S.I. purportedly on Pre's foot, when the issue contained an article on runing by Bill Bowerman. Now, of course, they wouldn't even exist, except that they are favored by cheerleaders everywhere.
In the 80s, a group of rabid Nike reps began referring to themselves as "EKINs" (NIKE spelled backwards, an homage, apparently, to the fanatical Cheyenne warrior society called Contraries, who were said to do everything backwards.) They had swooshes tattooed on their ankles, ironic for workers in an industry renowned for abrupt and arbitrary firings, necessitating seeking employment, if in the industry where your experience was of value, with a competitor. Nike seemingly was always hiring former Reebok execs,and so forth.
It should not be forgotten that addidas was put back on its feet in the U.S. by Rob Strasser,Knight's long-time right-hand man, after Knight abruptly canned him. Strasser was also partners with my cousin, who had by then left Nike, and others in Rogue Brewery, whose products were reportedly banned from Nike functions. When a Salazar-led Nike team beat addidas in a hotly-contested Hood-to-Coast team race in the mid-ninties, Knight handed salazar the keys to a new BMW, and reprtedly quipped, "That's another nail in Strasser's coffin." Strasser had died of a heart attack not long previous.
Jeff Johnson, Nike's first full-time employee, namer of the company, and designer of most of its best shoes in the mid and late seventies, as well as the guy who alerted Vin Lanana to the talent that is Andrew Wheating, himself left Nike in the early 80s, but scorned the thought of anyone going over to rival addidas. "The Hun," he called them.