Rebound For Reebok

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Of course, Fireman knows that gizmos won't bring down Nike-- unless Reebok has a lot of well-marketed attitude to go with them. He calls this "the Cool Factor"--the mysterious marketing mojo that powers the $11 billion athletic-footwear market. That's where Iverson comes in, with his tattoos, corn-rowed hair and 'hood bravado. Allen is indispensably cool, which is why, a few months ago, when Reebok was the object of shrill protests over the obviously homophobic, misogynist lyrics in the basketball star's debut rap song, Fireman stood by his man. "I didn't agree with the song," says Fireman, who conceived the Reebok Human Rights Awards. "But he had a right to sing it."

The way Fireman sees it, the conventional approach to business is boring, so bring on the controversy, play the game by your own rules, be a real entrepreneur. Back in the early 1990s, when he was already earning a seven-figure salary and bonuses, he was denied membership at a country club near his New England home. Fireman assumed the club turned him down because he is Jewish. He didn't fight for entry; he bought his own country club, decked out with an 18-hole golf course, an Olympic-size pool and tennis courts. That helps explain why he identifies with stars like Iverson and Williams, who fit the mold because they break it. They aren't heroes like Tiger Woods, but they attract attention. And they have the stuff of greatness, which means big rewards if they're on your team.

But attitude won't be enough to down Nike. Fireman's longtime rival Phil Knight still sits atop a company that commands a market share more than triple Reebok's. And his troops declare that they turned down deals with the NFL and NBA because the licensing business has never been--and never will be--profitable. Instead, Nike's path to the future has shifted from building brand awareness (it hardly needs that now) to gaining a stronger foothold in growth markets like soccer and golf. Adam Helfant, Nike's global sports marketing director, estimates that $50 million in annual revenues will probably come from Reebok's NBA deal--not worth Nike's energy: "That's two months' worth of Jordan business for us."

Reebok's big-league deals will really start paying off in three years through a heightened profile among youth, about the time that Michael Jordan will have to hang up his high-tops for good. "You don't get cool by writing checks," says Fireman. The Reebok chief is counting on his big-league deals and projects like Diamond, a kind of high-end designer boutique within Reebok that aims to develop the trendsetting sneakers and street fashion of tomorrow. This time around, Paul Fireman's state of rebellion may be here to stay for a while.