The 10 Craziest Sneaker "What-Ifs"

Nike's most famous development, Nike Air, was not developed by a Nike engineer. Nike Air was the brainchild of Frank Rudy, a former aerospace engineer who struck out on his own in 1969. As legend has it, Rudy brought his cushioning setup to Nike in 1977, and after Phil Knight ran in a pair of prototype shoes, he was sold. But it's not like Nike didnt have options at the time. Shox was already in its early stages back then, but was shelved for decades because of Air. If Knight doesn't take a chance on Air - remember, in 1977 Nike was just a five-year-old company - maybe Shox is ready by the turn of the decade, and maybe Michael Jordan gets a different nickname. Boing.

There is absolutely no reason that Magic Johnson couldn't have been Michael Jordan first. Magic won titles, he had a better nickname, and his effusive personality and contagious smile could have sold lots and lots of sneakers. But who knew? In the late '70s, after all, Converse was still dominating the basketball market. They had Dr. J, they signed Magic, and they signed Larry Bird. They'd get Isiah Thomas, too. A shift was coming, but Converse didn't have the scrappy underdog mentality to actually force the change. If they had, and they put Magic and Larry (and Doc) in their own sneaker models, maybe Air Jordan still takes over, but it doesn't start in a vacuum.

When FILA entered the U.S. signature sneaker market in the early '90s, they did it in a big way. They gave Jamal Mashburn a Ferrari (along with a considerable amount of cash), then signed a number of other young up-and-comers like Grant Hill, Derek Jeter and Barry Bonds. Jeter later jumped to Jordan, Hill suffered a series of injuries that derailed his career, and Bonds, well, he became the most reviled athlete of his generation. Forget Bonds, though. Had Jeter stayed and Grant Hill stayed healthy, FILA would have had two of the best - and most fan-friendly - athletes of the '90s. Does Jeter's line take over where Ken Griffey Jr's left off? Does Hill's contend with Jordan's? And if those two guys stay on board for their entire careers, is FILA still a performance brand now rather than just a heritage one? Too bad we'll never know.

Retro sneakers weren't always a thing. Yes, there was the Converse All-Star, but that was simply always in production. When Nike re-made the Air Force 1 a few short years after it was discontinued, it was not only still a viable performance shoe, but it established that there could be a market for "old" designs. The Air Force 1 remained a big seller and a sought-after model long after it was surpassed from a performance standpoint, which helped push Nike in a direction that wasn't based entirely around product for athletes. Modern sneaker "culture" started here. Otherwise, maybe the Air Force One is just another semi-obscure discontinued performance model and "retro" doesn't happen until Michael Jordan retires, if at all.

In the mid-80s, Nike needed a reboot. The first Air Jordan was a hit beyond their wildest expectations, but its design wasn't exactly a game-changer outside of its bold red and black colorway. But rather than hire away an experienced designer from another company, Nike decided to see whether they had anyone already on the payroll who wanted to try something new. As it so happened, they also had a corporate architect seeking a new challenge. Tinker Hatfield had come to Nike via the traditional path - competing for Bill Bowerman at the University of Oregon - but was trained as an architect rather than an industrial designer. As such, he had some very different ideas when it came to inspiration and athlete input. If Hatfield wasn't looking for a change, it seems likely that Michael Jordan leaves Nike in 1988, and a number of now-iconic sneakers never get produced. And without Tinker at the helm, do guys like Eric Avar and Aaron Cooper even go into sneaker design? Nike thought big, and in return, got even bigger.

So lets say an adidas exec came to Madison Square Garden, saw everyone hold up their shelltoes during "My Adidas," and instead of giving Run DMC a million-dollar deal just said "huh, that's cool, thanks for the free PR." What, Run DMC was going to start wearing Nikes? The song was already out there, free of charge. adidas was going to reap the benefits regardless. What did a German company know from Queens rappers anyway? And if adidas doesn't pay Run DMC, does Reebok pay Jay-Z and 50 Cent? Does Nike give Kanye West a shoe? The synergy between sneakers and hip-hop was already there, but without that first deal, maybe it's just love and not money.

In 1988, Michael Jordan was restless. Yes, he had two signature shoes to his name, but the second wasn't as successful as the first, and the people most responsible for bringing him to Nike were leaving. If he was ever going to leave Nike, now was the time. Plus, his newest shoe was being designed by some new guy, one who had just joined the design team three years before. An architect, no less. As it turned out, the former architect - a guy named Tinker Hatfield - was pretty good. And the Air Jordan III would revolutionize the very concept of the signature sneaker. But Jordan still could have left. Maybe he joins friend and rival (and fellow David Falk client) Patrick Ewing at adidas. Or maybe - and this seems more likely - he's the one who starts his own brand instead of Ewing. Jordan Brand in 1988 instead of 1997? What could have been.

This is a big one. In 2003, Allen Iverson was still dominating, just two years off his Finals appearance and MVP. Reebok also had Jay-Z in the fold, whose S. Carter Collection would release that same year. If LeBron James chose Reebok over Nike, there could have been a seismic shift in the sneaker world. Michael Jordan was retired for good, Kobe Bryant was a sneaker free agent. LeBron goes to Reebok, and there's no question Reebok still has a performance basketball line today. And if a few other big names chose to follow LeBron, who knows what the balance of power would look like right now?

Nike first tried to enter the skateboard shoe market in the mid-90s. It did not go over well. This was not due to the sneakers themselves, which weren't so bad (although they did have awful names). It was just the thought of Nike doing skate at all, the corporate juggernaut entering an established market ruled by independent brands. Funny, since Nike was one of those independent brands themselves just 25 years prior. Had the first incarnation of SB succeeded, it seemingly wouldn't have made all that much of a difference. But SB 1.0 didn't include a retro sneaker like the Dunk, so perhaps performance takes center stage, and your grails never even get produced.