The world of sports endorsements is built on dreams: the dream of greatness, the dream of influence, the dream of selling sneakers that make kids believe they, too, can fly. But sometimes, those dreams morph into viral nightmares. Enter Angel Reese, Reebok’s new face of basketball, and what’s quickly becoming one of the most talked-about endorsement disasters in recent memory.

The Hype That Became a Headache

Reebok, under the watchful eye of NBA legend Shaquille O’Neal, made headlines last year by signing Angel Reese, the outspoken NCAA champion and social media sensation, as the centerpiece of its basketball comeback. The plan was clear: ride Reese’s Gen Z appeal, launch a signature shoe, and tap into a new generation of basketball fans hungry for fresh icons.

But as the 2024 WNBA season unfolded, the hype train derailed—spectacularly. While Caitlin Clark was busy shattering attendance records and turning sold-out arenas into must-watch events, Angel Reese was dominating headlines for all the wrong reasons.

On-Court Struggles: When Layups Become Memes

Reese’s sophomore campaign with the Chicago Sky has been marred by inefficiency and viral lowlights. The numbers tell a brutal story: converting just 31.5% of her layup attempts—by far the easiest shot in basketball—while taking more layups than almost anyone in the league. For context, most WNBA bigs finish those shots at a 70-80% clip. Reese’s rate would get a middle schooler benched.

The bloopers practically write themselves. Against the New York Liberty, Reese missed four consecutive putbacks in 12 seconds, with two of them blocked right back into her face. The clip went viral, not in the way that sells shoes, but in the way that ends up on YouTube compilations soundtracked by circus music. Statisticians now brace themselves not for greatness, but for inefficiency in motion every time Reese steps on the court.

The Reebok Gamble: A Case Study in What Not to Do

For Reebok, the partnership was supposed to be a culture-shifting moment. CEO Todd Krinsky compared Reese’s signing to legendary deals with Allen Iverson and Shaq, calling her a “culture changer.” But while Iverson and Shaq redefined basketball swagger and dominated on the court, Reese is redefining what not to do in professional sports.

Insiders are already whispering that this could go down as the sneaker industry’s biggest misstep since New Coke. Instead of highlight reels, Reebok is getting endless blooper reels. Instead of selling dreams, they’re selling punchlines.

The Social Media Circus

Social media has feasted on Reese’s struggles. Entire TikTok accounts now exist solely to compile her missed layups and botched putbacks, remixed with clown music and slow-motion zoom-ins. Millions of views pour in, not because fans are inspired, but because they can’t look away. She’s not producing basketball content—she’s producing meme content.

Meanwhile, Caitlin Clark is drawing comparisons to Steph Curry and LeBron James, breaking records, and turning every game into a spectacle. Reese, by contrast, is starring in compilations titled “When Basketball Isn’t Your Calling.” One sells out stadiums; the other sells memes.

Injuries and Team Woes

The Chicago Sky, already struggling, have limped to a 7-21 record with Reese as their centerpiece. She missed five games with a back injury, and the team continued to lose. The paradox is painful: they’re bad with her, and somehow worse without her. It’s like trying to survive in a lifeboat with holes—you’re sinking regardless, it’s just a question of how fast.

When Reese returned from injury, the same inefficiency followed. Nine turnovers, missed layups, and another round of viral clips. Even professional broadcasters, trained to hype up free throws like buzzer-beaters, have started audibly chuckling at her missed shots on live TV. When commentators can’t keep a straight face, it’s not just a red flag—it’s a neon billboard outside Reebok HQ flashing “We messed up.”

Brand Misalignment: The Real Crisis

Endorsements work on one principle: aspiration. You buy Jordans because you want to soar. You buy LeBrons because you want dominance. Nobody buys sneakers because they want to clank layups. Reebok tried to sidestep Reese’s lack of production by leaning into her bold personality and unapologetic image. That might sell cosmetics or reality TV spots, but performance sneakers? Not a chance.

The signature shoe launch is shaping up less like a celebration and more like a panic meeting with balloons. Slick teasers and loud campaigns can’t photoshop her layups into makes. It’s like Ferrari launching a race car sponsored by someone who can’t drive manual. The disconnect is obvious, bordering on parody.

Industry chatter suggests Reebok may pivot, positioning Reese’s sneaker as a lifestyle shoe instead of performance gear. Translation: “We never meant this for the court anyway.” Others say they’ll push back the release, hoping she figures out her game. But this isn’t a slump—it’s a pattern. And you can’t build an empire on a weak foundation.

The Fallout: Lessons for Brands and Athletes

What started as a bold bet is now a cautionary tale. Reebok’s gamble with Angel Reese is turning into a tragic comedy, a flashing warning sign for every brand executive in sports marketing. It’s a textbook case of confusing social media attention with marketable talent. Sure, she trends, but so do car crashes. That doesn’t mean you name a highway after them.

The moral is simple: if you’re going to tie your brand to a star, make sure she can make a layup. Otherwise, you’re not selling basketball dreams—you’re selling punchlines. And no sneaker, no matter how well-designed, can outrun a reputation built on bricks.

The Road Ahead

For Angel Reese, the criticism is relentless, but so is the opportunity. She’s still young, still a champion, and still has time to turn things around. But for now, the basketball world is watching, not to log greatness, but to see if the next viral clip will be a highlight or another blooper.

For Reebok, the lesson is clear: in the world of sports marketing, performance still matters. You can market bold personalities and unapologetic images all you want, but at the end of the day, fans want greatness—and greatness starts with making the shot.

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