In 1998, a woman stopped Shaquille O’Neal outside an arena and told him his sneakers cost too much for kids. He took $2,000 out of his pocket and handed it to her. She slapped it out of his hand. That same day he walked away from a $40 million deal and went off to make a $20 shoe.
He tells it himself in the video below.
He was leaving the building. She started on him before he reached the car.
“You’re charging these babies all this money for the shoes.”
He had about $2,000 on him. He pulled it out.
“Ma’am, I don’t make the prices. Here you go.”
She slapped the money out of his hand and kept going. Why wouldn’t you make a shoe that’s affordable.
On the table at that moment was a Reebok deal. Forty million over five years.
“I thought about it. I was like, you know what, she’s right.”
“So that day, cut ties with Reebok, starting my own brand.”
He did not negotiate a payout.
“I told them: keep the money. I don’t want to make it a fight. I’ll still wear the shoes during the season.”
Then he went to Walmart. The new shoes were priced at $29 and $19.
He also took Reebok’s designers with him.
“It’s not that kids don’t want to wear 20 dollar shoes. They don’t want to wear shoes that look like they cost 20.”
“I don’t care how much money I lose. Make these kids look good.”
He says the line has now sold more than 400 million pairs.
Twenty-three years after he walked out, the company he is part of bought Reebok.
He gave up $40 million rather than keep selling a shoe a mother could not afford.
Would you have taken the forty?
Brad Pitt and Edward Norton got stoned before the Fight Club premiere because they already knew it was going to bomb
Edward Norton: “They made a very strange decision to premiere Fight Club at the Venice Film Festival, and it got booed.”
“Brad pulled me aside and asked, ‘How do you think this is going to go?’”
“I said, ‘I don’t think this is going to go well at all.’ He said, ‘Me neither. Let’s get stoned.’”
“I’m a lightweight, and Brad, at the time, was a pro.”
“People were actively booing, and some left in the middle of the movie.”
“Brad turned to me in the dark, kind of tearfully, and said, ‘I think that’s the best movie I’m ever going to be in.’”
My son announced on Tuesday evening, during dinner, that for Halloween he wanted to dress up as a fart.
I literally almost choked on the water I was drinking. He’s six years old. He was just sitting there, serious, with spaghetti sauce on his chin, saying: “I want to be a big brown fart cloud.” My husband looked at me like it was my job to handle the situation. I didn’t know what to say. Where do kids even get these ideas? I told him absolutely not. To pick something normal — a superhero, a dinosaur, anything else. He made that stubborn face that means “he’s never going to let this go.”
He started explaining to me, with the utmost seriousness, that farts are funny, that everyone would laugh, and that it would be the best costume ever. I was exhausted after work, my head was pounding, and I lost my patience. I said: fine. You want to be a fart? Make it yourself. I’ll help you find the materials, but the rest is up to you. I thought he’d give up after ten minutes. He didn’t.
He spent the next three days in the living room, working with brown and beige fabrics I helped him order, because apparently he needed “fart-colored tulle” — a phrase I never thought I’d say. He watched tutorials on my phone about how to gather fabric, asked me for help with the knots, but insisted on arranging every single layer himself. He got frustrated twice, was close to crying, but kept going. His little hands working carefully, his tongue between his teeth as he focused.
Yesterday he finished. He put it on and strutted around the house, proudly showing it off to his father and grandmother, who both looked absolutely stunned. I thought I’d be embarrassed, but instead I felt a strange pride. My son said he wanted to be a fart, I told him to figure it out himself, and he… actually did it.
He’s been sleeping in it for two nights. Two neighbors have already asked if I can make one for their kids, too. I told them he’s taking orders now. Eight dollars per cloud. He’s never been so confident in his life.