Five Years On and Fifty Years Later
Re-reading Shoe Dog by Phil Knight as a business owner, five years after my first read, fifty years after Nike’s founding
I first read Shoe Dog in 2020. The year of Covid and a year of reflection. I’ve always been ambitious and full of energy, but at this time I was still shaping what my business would become.
I recently re-read it, after a bit of a nudge from my coach. I was moaning about how I didn’t want to read another business book. I “knew” what I
was doing and didn’t want to get distracted by yet another idea or direction. He scoffed, called me an idiot (yes, I pay this guy), then he suggested reading inspiring biographies,
So, I picked up Shoe Dog again – and I’m glad I did
I always had a vision – I just wasn’t always able to quite articulate it. I’m sure you e also had that gnawing feeling. A crazy idea. Something that needed to come out, even though I couldn’t explain it fully. I didn’t know the path. I didn’t know how I’d get there. But I knew I had to move.
Now, reading it again five years on, further along in my journey, it felt completely different. It wasn’t just a good (and fascinating) business story – it was a reflection of so many of the experiences, lessons and inner struggles I’ve faced.
Shoe dog someone obsessed with shoes, devoted to the craft
Nike wasn’t started by marketers. It was founded and built by running geeks. People who lived and breathed sport before fashion in trainers was even a thing. It explains so much. They didn’t create a brand from the outside in. They built it from the inside out, led by people who were the customer. The product didn’t exist for commercial gain, Phil Knight wasn’t seeking riches – it existed to serve the performance of the athlete.
And that shows up in their marketing. “There is no finish line” wasn’t just a slogan.
It was a statement of identity. It didn’t try to sell the shoe. It spoke to the mindset of the wearer.
Beating the competition? That’s just business. Beating yourself? That’s a lifelong commitment.
The genius of Nike’s early growth was that they didn’t talk about the features – they talked about who you became when you wear their shoes.
What really landed with me on this read was just how much Nike’s culture shaped everything else. The Buttface retreats are a perfect example.
Jeff Johnson coined the name, and it stuck. It was part insult, part badge of honour. These were bi-annual retreats where no idea was sacred and no one was too important to be challenged. There was loyalty, but also room for laughter, argument and raw honesty.
It captured the heart of Nike’s ethos – a place where belief and irreverence could coexist, and the mission always came first.
But culture alone doesn’t build a company. One of the real differences that made Nike, was its ability to bridge the gap between vision and execution. There’s a quote in the book that has stayed with me: a Harvard professor said,
“If even one manager at a company can think both tactically and strategically, it has a good future. But more than half your team can do that.”
That’s rare. And it’s one of the things I’ve noticed most over the years – so many visionary founders don’t know how to turn their ideas into actions, and they stall. They rely entirely on others to make it happen. But the ones who go furthest are the ones who can dip into both. See the big picture, then get their hands dirty, no job too small, no ego, they just get it done!.
And Knight? He was all in. His father once asked him, “How long are you going to keep jackassing around?” It reminded me of the Greenlights quote from Matthew McConaughey about not half-assing it. Either commit or don’t.
Knight committed. He borrowed against his life insurance. He took risks that would terrify most founders today. And not for money. That wasn’t the point. He wasn’t chasing wealth. He was chasing meaning. The product, the purpose, the impact. He believed it would work, not out of blind optimism, but deep certainty. And in my experience, that unwavering belief is often what gets you through when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
It was reminiscent for me of Tony Hsieh’s line from Delivering Happiness (The Zappos story and my next re-read) when they “Bet the farm.” Knight didn’t hedge. He went all in. And in my experience, that kind of unwavering belief in a vision, when it’s really, really hard, is one of the few traits that truly separates those who succeed from those who stall.
It’s also what makes Shoe Dog so emotional. I didn’t expect to shed a tear while reading it – but I did. More than once. There’s something about his lack of ego, the way he holds space for everyone on the journey, that’s incredibly moving. Raw authenticity, start to finish.
The financial side of the book hit me differently this time, too. Nike was doubling its sales year after year but still had no cash in the bank. They were growing fast – but not safely. The lack of equity, constant supplier tension and shoestring margins nearly destroyed them. And that theme is still real for founders now. Having previously had a high revenue cash poor business myself, I’ve had it rammed home to me that profit is vanity. Cash is king.
You are what your numbers say – nothing more, nothing less. Financial literacy isn’t a nice-to-have. It’s the backbone of long-term business success.
There’s also a great line near the beginning of the book: “Before running a race, you walk the track.” That resonated deeply with the way we work today – mapping before building, designing our customer journeys before beginning any build.. It’s not about rushing. It’s about the overall vision and Intention. Laying out the track so the race can be run well.
One thing not included in the book – but which adds so much when paired with it – is the film Air, with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. It tells the story of when Nike signed Michael Jordan. But it’s just one part of the wider journey. Watch the film after reading the book (or re-read the book and watch the film again), and you’ll see the characters, the history, and the stakes in a whole new light. It’s a masterclass in context.
Phil Knight closes the book by saying:
“Seek a calling, even if you don’t know what that means – seek it.”
That line hit me hard. Like many business owners, I’ve often felt like I’ve been in a rush all my life.
Always racing to the next thing. Sometimes missing the moments that mattered – especially when my kids were younger. As a recovering computer gamer, that’s what It has felt like sometimes,
I’d get another life. Another chance. But you don’t
Cue song Everybody’s Free, Song by Baz Luhrmann, the graduation speech song.
I now keep a notebook and post-it-notes next to me when I read. My ADHD brain moves too fast. I lose thoughts as quickly as they arrive, often before I’ve managed to get the pen on the page. But some ideas – like the ones in this book – deserve to be held onto.
Five years on, and fifty years later, Shoe Dog still teaches me something new.
And reminds me that what we’re building isn’t just about growth.
It’s about belief.
