Nike’s Flawed Heroes

I recently read two books: Andre Agassi’s Open and Fatima Bhutto’s Song of Blood and Sword. The former is the autobiography of a grand slam tennis champion and latter a memoir of a 29-year old woman born into Pakistani political royalty. I was never big fan of Agassi’s back of the court playing style and for the most part I wanted to read his autobiography to gain more knowledge on the 1992 Wimbledon final, which he won against one of my favorite tennis players, Goran Ivanisevic. As for Bhutto, I assumed she was an individual born with the proverbial sliver spoon. But the books changed it all; I started to like both personalities and was even inspired by their stories. It made me wonder why I suddenly liked these characters that I was previously indifferent to. After some introspection, I realized I liked them because these larger than life almost invincible personalities suddenly became human. Both memoirs were compelling stories. I learnt that Agassi had always hated tennis. The only reason he continued playing was because he knew it was only thing that he was good at. Bhutto revealed details of her nomadic childhood in political exile traveling across the world and her heart-rending struggles to cope with her father’s murder for most of her adult life. Their emotional wounds and scars made them inherently more attractive, likable and indeed relatable people. It makes you wonder whether the stories of superheroes such as Spiderman or Batman would actually be as popular without their profoundly flawed human alter egos, Peter Parker and Bruce Wayne. For a hero to hook you, she has to have some sort of frailty.

Nike’s branding campaigns have largely come from exploiting the ‘Hero’ archetype. Nike hero’s have always been living legends – be it Michael Jordan or Roger Federer. Nike’s communication has rarely ever focused on the product; Nike is a brand about Heroes and Hero Worship. The products are just an extension of the hero. But just like Agassi and Bhutto, Nike’s heroes are also flawed relatable beings.

As a 12 year old, I remember salivating over a pair of Air Jordan’s at the recently opened Nike Store in a quaintly named street (Shakespeare Sarini – English equivalent for the word would be Avenue) in an even quainter town (Calcutta) in India. Michael Jordan was a marketer’s dream; he fit like a glove into Nike’s hero archetype. Nike ensured that the world perceived that “His Airiness’’ could even fly and build a global brand around this projected persona. But although this image of Jordan ensured superhuman expectations of heroism of him each time he stepped out on court, Nike also ensured that their hero was framed as imperfect.

This execution titled “failure” taught millions of kids, worldwide that even their hero was not perfect, even their hero could fail. Before this execution, commercials predominantly concentrated on Jordan’s hang time on the dunk or the hero’s journey (fighting all odds and getting his team to victory). This ad made Jordan a global icon, a man everyman could relate to.

Today’s Roger Federer is a calm collected tennis superstar. Nobody knew in the late 1990’s, he shouted, cursed and broke racquets at the rate of McEnroe. To a world, which knew Roger Federer as a self-collected tennis genius, Nike unveiled a completely different earlier Roger Federer through this execution

Another Nike ads featuring Maria Sharapova faults Sharapova for her for being too pretty and she answers her critics by focusing on the job at hand. Again, Nike making both this invincible sport celebrity human and relatable.