"AIR" (2023)

by

Alex Convery

GRANDVIEW / Zac Frognowski / Faisal Kanaan

UTA / Ramses IsHak / Michael Sheresky / Jordan Lonner

ii.ii.

INSERT - TV COMMERCIAL

The unmistakable smile of MAGIC JOHNSON - he’s holding a CONVERSE SNEAKER and rapping along to a cheesy jingle.

ISAIH THOMAS.

LARRY BIRD. This could be a commercial for the NBA Hall of Fame.

“Converse - the official shoe of the NBA!”

OVER “IF I RULED THE WORLD” by NAS.

BEAVERTON, OREGON

Even if you don’t know what the modern Nike headquarters looks like, you can imagine it. A sprawling green campus. Lots of glass. Lots of money.

An “employee first mentality”. Great benefits. Unlimited vacation (unless you take too much). They match the fuck out of your 401k.

Now... imagine the exact opposite of that.

TITLE CARD READS: 1984, NIKE WORLDWIDE HEADQUARTERS

Two buildings. They look more like IRS offices in Iowa than the headquarters of a sneaker company.

2.2.

We drift down the hall, passing framed pictures of Olympic athletes hoisting gold medals, track stars, runners, etc. Notably absent are pictures of basketball, football, or any other sport an average American would consider popular.

Until we reach...

ROB STRASSER, VP of Marketing. 6’3, 280 pounds with an extra helping of shoulders. His red beard a bonfire on his face.

Giving a presentation to...

...the bored group that makes up Nike’s Basketball Division. Pencil pushers. Collared shirts. Note pads. Coffee mugs. Yawns.

He looks around the room....

Nothing.

Pencils TAP. TAP. TAP.

3.3.

Strasser writes TURPIN across the board.

Everyone at the table turns. Their gazes drifting to the very back of the room, where we find...

JOHN PAUL VINCENT VACCARO. To make it easy, we’ll call him what everyone else does: SONNY. 45. Short and squat. Italian- American. A determinism in his eyes, the bags under which tell us how much sleep he gets (none).

4.4.

Silence.

Strasser looks to Sonny, who sticks two fingers up to his temple. BANG.

5.5.

A sea of faces in line for the same slop. Corporate lunch hour.

Sonny and Strasser sit across from each other. Strasser already eating what everyone else is in line for.

6.6.

Strasser lowers his voice, taking a more serious tone.

Sonny looks out the window. Gazing through the flat fields surrounding the office.

7.7.

A deep sigh. Strasser stares a hole through the ceiling.

He’s interrupted by RICHARD, who screams middle management. Beige green button up with khakis.

8.8.

Richard walks off. Proud of himself.

Strasser looks around the cafeteria. Everyone milling about. So many people. All going about their day.

9.9.

Off Strasser’s raised eyebrows.Shit.

PHIL KNIGHT, CEO and FOUNDER of Nike. Orange-red beard and long hair. He doesn’t look like a CEO - he looks like a long distance runner. A bohemian capitalist.

Sonny makes the long walk from the door to Phil’s massive oak desk. Picks up a plastic basketball resting on it. Tosses it up and down.

There’s an OREGON DUCKS mini-hoop on the wall. Right next to the infamous WAFFLE IRON - the one that produced the first Nike shoe.

They both look out the window, where there is indeed a MAN SKATEBOARDING around the parked cars.

He’s wearing a leather jacket and a large cowboy hat, both look designer even from the second floor.

The SKATEBOARDER jumps OVER the back of a car.

10.10.

11.11.

12.12.

Phil leans back in his chair. Breathes out.

13.13.

They’re interrupted by PHIL’S SECRETARY, who peeks her head through the large doors.

As Sonny exits...

14.14.

Sonny finally SHOOTS the plastic basketball.

It misses.

The WHIRRING of a carpet cleaner. Soap and cleaning solution SPIN.

A uniformed JANITOR nods his head to whatever he’s listening to on his headphones.

He’s the only one in the office.

Or so he thinks...

You can hardly see Sonny among the MOUNTAINS OF VHS TAPES stacked all around the office.

Each has a strip of masking tape across it with a player’s name written in sharpie.

He’s chewing through tape. WatchingSTOCKTON. WatchingBOWIE. Watching BARKLEY.

Old standard definition highlights. Sonny replays Stockton going to the hoop. Forward and backward. Examines his jump shot. Forward and backward.

Yawns. Leans back in his chair. Looks up at his wall, where Nike’s MISSION STATEMENT is neatly framed. Ten rules. The commandments.

rules: fight the law.

Sonny piles a few of the tapes up. Puts them in his bag and heads out.

15.15.

Sonny wanders the pale aisles of the grocery store. The wheel of his plastic red cart squeaking.

He passes boxes of cereal, in all of their neon 80’s glory. Stops to gaze at...

A BOX OF WHEATIES - LARRY BIRD on the cover. He’s holding...

CONVERSE SNEAKERS.

Sonny turns around. An EMPLOYEE waits with a cart full of milk gallons, ready to stock.

She continues rolling down the aisle....

As Sonny makes his way back down the aisle... he catches his altered reflection in the slightly tinted glass of a freezer.

And what he sees is what he feels... tired and old.

16.16.

Sonny sits in the front seat of his car. Driving home...

He pulls over. Parked on a suburban street.

He takes a deep breath. Reaches into one of the grocery bags in the backseat. Takes out a box...

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE ICE CREAM BARS. He tears the box open and removes one. Rips open the wrapper...

Technicolor pink. Undoubtedly some sort of poisoned food coloring, but childlike in its artificial wonder.

SONNY SCARFS IT DOWN. Four or five bites, but he eats it so fast it’s hard to tell.

He chews and chews. Like he’s racing against someone invisible sitting shotgun. Finally swallows. And then...

Reaches for another one. Same routine. Rips it open. Devours it down in just a few bites. Gulps it down. Takes a breath...

Starts his car again. He drives slow. Turns the wheel as we see...

He was right around the corner from his house. He pulls into the driveway and steps out of the car.

He rips the strawberry shortcake box into so many pieces, you’d never know what it was in the first place.

He disposes the pieces in the trash can outside the garage along with the four uneaten bars.

Sonny sits in his armchair, his two TV’s the only light in the room.

He’s watching tape on one. ESPN on in the background of the other one.

Close on Sonny’s face, bathed in the blue light of the television. Flickering as we hear the sound of a crowd CHEERING.

Something on the other TV catches his attention...

17.17.

A TENNIS COMMERCIAL, featuring ARTHUR ASHE. Sonny turns up the volume.

Sonny digests what he’s watching. He turns back to the other screen.

We can see his wheels spinning as he watches the tape. He leans in closer.

It’s almost otherworldly. A moment of transcendence that only comes a few times in one’s life. When everything seems to click together, if only for a second. It all makes sense. When you finally see what you’ve been missing this whole time.

We see the empty VHS case. The tape he’s watching. It reads:

JORDAN

You can learn who a person is by what they keep on their desk. Strasser’s a lifer. A native Oregonian. The type of guy who knows that what he’s doing can be bullshit, but does it anyway.

Framed pictures of him with NBA players, standing with his son at the Finals, the Olympics, etc.

He sits across from an EXECUTIVE, we’ll call him RICH. Climb the corporate ladder long enough and you are.

The door opens. Sonny pokes his head through.

18.18.

He clicks on the TV. Pushes in a VHS. A beat as it loads before--

Michael Jordan’s game winning shot against Georgetown.

19.19.

He lets the tape play out. Jordan catches the pass. Seventeen seconds left. Seventeen feet from the basket. Pulls up for the jumper. It’s good.

Sonny pauses the screen. Close on Jordan’s face.

20.20.

21.21.

22.22.

He’s cut off by a RINGING PHONE.

Strasser shakes his head. Trying not to smile.

Off Strasser. Worry overtaking.Thinking...

Sonny sprints into his office, some disheveled papers falling off his desk as he does. He picks up the phone.

Waiting on the other line, as promised, is...

DAVID FALK, Jordan’s agent. Shiny bald head, five figure pressed suit. The prototype power agent. He came out of womb negotiating commission structures.

23.23.

24.24.

25.25.

Falk counting. 1. 2. 3. Fuck.

Sonny holds his hand over the receiver. Silently mouthsFUCK.

26.26.

Sonny hangs up. Bites his lip. Paces back to...

Sonny slips back in. Strasser is watching Jordan tape. Re- evaluating. Looking for whatever it is that Sonny sees.

27.27.

Some upscale bullshit restaurant that was the hardest reservation in Portland for two years before going out of business. Sonny sits across from...

STU INMAN, General Manager of the Portland Trailblazers. Sleight, the frame of a former power-forward, which he was. A pressed collar lapping over a well-fitting sweater.

A WAITER stands over them, ready for their orders.

28.28.

29.29.

30.30.

Close on Sonny. His eyes tell us differently.

Sonny paces up to Phil’s office, where Phil’s secretary sits expectantly.

PHIL’S SECRETARY They’re already in there.

PHIL’S SECRETARY Phil said he had a meeting with you and Mr. Strasser?

Sonny shakes his head as he opens the door to...

Strasser sits across the desk from Phil. An empty chair next to him - like it was waiting for Sonny.

Strasser turns to him. Mouths “sorry”.Sonny can only shake his head.

31.31.

32.32.

33.33.

Even if you don’t know what the modern Adidas headquarters looks like, you can imagine it.

But you don’t need to. Because in 1984,this place already looks like it will in 2020.

A monolithic building, an almost cartoonish Soviet-style fortress, topped by a neon blue trefoil spinning in the fog. The finest German glass reflecting water shimmering.

The Adidas Museum:Spikes worn by Jesse Owens at the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Boxing shoes worn by Muhammad Ali. Stan Smith’s Stan Smiths, and the pair of soccer cleats that would become known as the Copa Mundial.

The Adidas braintrust sits around a conference table, each with a folder and neat stack of paper in front of them.

KATHE DASSLER - the matriarch. She’s not in good health, but is running the company anyway.

34.34.

HORST DASSLER - her son, controlling everything behind the scenes (or trying to), round face anchored by a square jaw.

FOUR DAUGHTERS - they all look vaguely similar, only twelve years between the youngest and the oldest. Almost like each one was cloned three years apart and now they’re growing up in order.

JOHN O’NEIL - Adidas’ Head of Operations in the States, sits at the end of the very long table.

JOHN O’NEIL I know the last thing we want to be discussing is business.

They all turn to a giant portrait of ADOLF “ADI” DASSLER. Founder of the company, recently deceased, his presence still looming from the grave.

JOHN O’NEIL (CONT'D) I can only imagine the grief.

JOHN O’NEIL Yes. We must. And we have an incredible opportunity in front of us.

They all flip to the first page and we see...

JORDAN.

JOHN O’NEIL (CONT'D) We believe we have a real chance.

NORTH READING, MASSACHUSETTS. A towering brick artifice. A refurbished factory. CONVERSE HQ. Their STAR logo imprinted on the building.

35.35.

“CONVERSE ALL STAR” in big letters. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, it describes the type of players they endorse.

JOHN O’NEIL - CEO and JOE DEAN - VP of Basketball. Converse’s top execs. The guys who signed Bird and Magic.

Their big board. OLAJUWON is already circled. The top name on the list. They don’t fuck around.

Continue down the list. BOWIE is already crossed out. The next name is unavoidable: JORDAN.

They look at each other.Nod.

Sonny’s on with Falk. The twisted phone cord wrapped around his clenched his fist. Trying to play it cool.

INTERCUT with Falk in his office. It’s late.

36.36.

37.37.

38.38.

Sonny walks into the conference room. Strasser leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath.

Sonny SNEEZES and COUGHS. Strasser looks at him. “You OK?”

39.39.

40.40.

41.41.

Close on Sonny as the door clicks shut.

Sonny picks up the phone. The DIAL TONE sounds increasingly loud in the silence of the office.

He hangs up. Leans back in his chair.Thinking.

Picks the phone up again.Dials.

A LONG BEAT. The silence is potent. We’re waiting to hear that first RING.

But before we do...

Sonny hangs up.

Looks out the window. The moon shines bright over the only car in the parking lot. His.

TIME LAPSE

42.42.

We hold on the car as the sun rises above it. A new day.

We’re angled on the door to Sonny’s office. It OPENS. STRASSER pokes his head in. Raises his eyebrow. We see why...

Sonny’s not in the office. Strasser looks back to the secretary.

A faint RING from down the hall. Strasser looks back. It’s his office phone.

He hustles back. From his form, it’s quite clear why he hasn’t taken up running.

RING. RIN---

He grabs the phone off the cradle. Just in time.

Great question. We’re tight on Sonny, so we know as little as Strasser. But it’s clear he’s at an indoor PAYPHONE.

43.43.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL--

SONNY IS IN THE AIRPORT.

44.44.

The line clicks dead. Strasser looks like he’s seen a ghost.

AND OVER THE SOUND OF AN ENGINE WE...

TITLE CARD READS: WILMINGTON, NORTH CAROLINA

Sonny exits the sliding glass doors of the airport.

He looks around. This is a whole other world. A humid August afternoon. The muggy air of a long Indian Summer.

Sonny walks across the rental lot, trailed by...

A RENTAL CAR EMPLOYEE, a pimpled college-grad, bad hair gel and even worse cologne. His Southern accent is so strong it sounds fake.

They both turn to see Sonny’s rental:

A MINIVAN. Toyota’s 1984 “The Van”. It looks like a divorced dad-mobile crossed with an oversized taxi-van. Truly hideous.

THE MINIVAN, NOW ON THE HIGHWAY. Cruising down the wooded freeways of North Carolina. U.S. Highway 117. The Blue Ridge Mountains off in the distant horizon.

45.45.

Sonny has a MAP folded out across the entire dashboard. He looks at the highway exit signs. Examines the map closer.

Continues down the highway....

He pulls up to a gravel driveway. The low hum of cicadas in the air.

And gazes upon...

4647 Gordon Road.

A middle-class, split-level house. It’s surrounded by woods on all sides. Patches of shade provide the only respite from the hot summer sun.

A CAR sits in the front lawn, its hood propped up. As Sonny approaches, he sees...

JAMES JORDAN, 48, thin mustache, wrench in hand, twisting something on the engine.

He sticks his tongue out as he concentrates on the inner- workings of the machine, a habit passed on from his grandfather.

He finally hears Sonny’s footsteps on the gravel. Looks up and sees the VAN.

46.46.

They both turn to see...

DELORIS JORDAN, 43, bobbed hair, thin frame, small intelligent eyes.

A long beat as both Jordans consider. Sonny looks back and forth between James and Deloris.Does he have a chance?

Yes. He smiles.

47.47.

Sonny sits alone at a table in the forested backyard. Waiting. He stares deep into the trees.

Deloris emerges from the back door. Notices Sonny looking at the trees.

Sonny looks to the house.Michael Jordan is in there. Like a ghost. You can’t see them, but you can always feel them.

48.48.

49.49.

Deloris smiles. Not explicitly agreeing.

50.50.

Sonny thinks about it for a moment.

51.51.

Sonny takes a breath. Thinks about. Looks her in the eye.

Deloris doesn’t tip her hand. Her poker face could take her far in Vegas. Close on Sonny.Did he get her?

They get up from the table. Walk back up the driveway, towards the mouth of the property.

JAMES JORDAN closes the hood on the car. Tries the engine. It starts. He smiles. A job well-done.

Sonny SWATS away a WASP as he gets close to the van.

52.52.

Sonny wipes a layer of sweat off his forehead. Nods as he gets into the front seat. He turns the key to start the car and...

It SPUTTERS.

Tries again. SPUTTERS.

Deloris and James look back. Nodding.

He tries once more. And...

The engine sputters to life.Barely.

Close on the Jordans as the car drifts away...

Sonny’s back on the 117. He gazes out the window. Cemeteries and industrial parks. Spanish moss hangs from the trees.

The afternoon sun hangs high, just beginning it’s long descent into night.

Sonny takes an exit. Into a suburban neighborhood. He glides past cookie cutter homes. Finally parks the car at a curb.

A big blue sign welcomes him to EMSLEY A LANEY HIGH SCHOOL - home of the Buccaneers.

CONGRATS SENIORS 84 - GO BUCS spelled out crookedly.

53.53.

Sonny wanders the halls. The metal lockers. The art projects. The trophy cases.

As he drifts past blue and yellow classroom doors, Sonny’s ears perk up, like a dog hearing a distant echo...

The sound of basketballs dribbling against a gym floor.

He presses his way through the wooden doors at the end of the hall to...

It’s every high school gym you’ve ever seen. You can smell it. The aging wooden bleachers, the laundered gym uniforms, the stale floor.

THE BASKETBALL TEAM scrimmages up and down the court. Looks to be the JV Squad. All the players lanky and uncoordinated in their adolescence.

COACH POP HERRING. Tall and slender, his thin black mustache a shade darker than his skin, stands in the center of the court, the field general for these boys.

Sonny smiles as he watches the team run through drills. This is the game at its purest. Before the complications. Before money. Before you’re told you can’t play anymore.

It’s just the game.An orange ball going through a hoop.

Pop blows his whistle. Looks at Sonny in the stands. He’s casual. Like he’s used to strangers showing up in his gym.

54.54.

Pop rolls his eyes. He’s heard this question a hundred times.

You can learn who a person is by what they keep on their desk. Pop has seen it all. Been through Carolina wars. The walls are littered with framed photos, shelves with trophies.

55.55.

56.56.

Sonny nods. Takes in what Pop is saying. A moment of shared silence.

Sonny’s VAN drifts down the highway... gliding back towards the airport. He looks into the trees that surround the road.

57.57.

A Southern night begins to come alive with the low disembodied drone of insect life. A thin layer of mist drifting through the trees.

Time moves differently in the woods.

Sonny pulls the VAN back into the parking lot. Who’s waiting but...

The same employee. Sonny gives a salute as he drops off the keys.

A FLIGHT ATTENDANT rolls the beverage cart down the aisle. Taking orders. Looks at Sonny.

She reaches back into the cart and hands him said peanuts.

Attached to the bag is A PAIR OF PLASTIC CAPTAIN’S WINGS. Sonny takes them off. Turns the wings in his hands. The gold plastic shining. Something about it...

He drops them into the front pocket of his shirt. Leans back. Looks out the window.

58.58.

Rolling clouds against the purple twilight. Like stock footage of heaven.

The sun’s rising over HQ. Sonny’s in the office before everyone else. Car still in the parking lot. He hasn’t gone home.

Those same eyes open. Tap. Tap. Tap. Waiting by the phone.

RING. RING.

Sonny covers the receiver. PUMPS HIS FIST.

59.59.

Sonny looks out the window, across the vast expanse of Oregon woods.

Is he ready? He doesn’t have time to think about it.

Strasser walks down the hall, coming in for the morning. He passes Sonny’s office. Looks in.Empty.

He shakes his head. Continues down the hall to his office. Opens his the door to find...

Sonny sitting at his desk.

Strasser shakes his head. Can’t help but to smile.Game on.

60.60.

They shuffle into the elevator. Sonny presses the “B” below “1” and “G”. The elevator churns to life and heads...

Down.

Down.

Further down.

DING. The doors open to...

THE LAB. A shoe head’s dream. Computers everywhere. State of the art (for 1984). Sonny and Strasser snake their way back to the desk of...

PETER MOORE, LEAD DESIGNER. Peter, 29, is a wizard. A mad scientist. His laboratory just happens to be in a basement in Beaverton.

He’s prematurely balding, a thin ring of hair all that’s left above his sharp jaunt cheeks. He turns in his swivel chair.

61.61.

Sonny and Strasser trail behind Pete as he sits at the end of a long table. Shoe designs pinned all over the walls.

As the words leave his mouth, we hear...

A SKATEBOARD.

The Cowboy. From the parking lot. Same designer jacket. Different designer hat. TINKER HATFIELD.

62.62.

Sonny’s BEEPER starts to sound.

63.63.

Pete’s jaw on the floor. Mouth agape as the elevator doors slide shut in front of Sonny and Strasser.

Sonny sits across from Phil, who preemptively reaches for the PLASTIC BASKETBALL on his desk. He moves it away from Sonny, placing it on the windowsill behind him.

64.64.

65.65.

66.66.

He looks up to the WAFFLE IRON on the wall.

67.67.

Close on Phil. Thinking.

68.68.

A LIMOUSINE pulls up right in front of the gaping glass doors of Converse HQ.

Falk steps out first. He looks up at the big CONVERSE logo. Smiles a shark’s smile.

The Jordan family gets out of the car. Deloris followed by James. They turn and wait for Michael to step out. Two long legs emerge from the car... but we don’t see Michael’s face.

Waiting for them is... JOHN O’NEIL. He has his hair gelled up like an asshole. Red tie (for the Bulls). Rolex heavy on his wrist.

Next to him is JOE DEAN, VP of Marketing.

JOHN O’NEIL (extending his hand) Mrs. Jordan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. We sure do appreciate you making the long trip out here.

The lights dimmed in a conference room. Everyone sitting around the table.

Even though everyone in the room is looking at him. We still can’t see Michael Jordan.

The same CONVERSE COMMERCIAL we saw at the beginning is just finishing.

“Converse - the official shoe of the NBA!”

The lights go up...

69.69.

JOHN O’NEIL Michael, we’re going to treat you like our superstars. Before you even step onto an NBA court.

JOHN O’NEIL What could hold more appeal than the shoe worn by the best players in the game? Every kid wants to wear what the stars wear.

Head nods. Fair point.

JOHN O’NEIL If I may... tradition and history are paramount at Converse. How does the saying go? Don’t fix something that’s not broken.

Looks around the room.Above them?

JOHN O’NEIL Well... frankly, ma’am... we’re talking about Magic Johnson and Larry Bird here.

70.70.

Off Deloris and James... searching for an answer. Posters of Magic and Bird behind them. Almost towering.

Sonny and Strasser flip through designs. Nods of approval. Setting certain ones aside.

Pete and Tinker watch them carefully. Waiting for any indication on their work.Did they get it?

Sonny finally sets the papers down. Looks up.

No.

71.71.

They all turn to Sonny. Still thinking.

72.72.

Sonny shakes his head.Holy shit.

Something catches Peter’s eye...

Moore reaches across the table and into Sonny’s shirt pocket...

THE PILOT WINGS FROM WHEN SONNY FLEW TO CAROLINA.

He turns the plastic in his hand before resting it right in the center of his palm. And now, it’s impossible not to see the image that’s running through Moore’s mind...

The center of the wings... a perfect circle... it could fit...

A basketball.

Phil Knight walks out from his house. Dressed in running clothes - Nike shirt, shorts, and shoes. 80’s fashion.

Stretching. Fingers to toes. Rotating his ankles. Clockwise and counter.

A light layer of fog drifting in. Almost mystical.

Why is it so difficult to get started?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Go.

73.73.

Sonny and Strasser wander the dark hallways. Weekend at the office. The entire building seemingly empty.

They pass a window overlooking the CAFETERIA. Sonny looks out on the wide expanse of tables and stacked trays. It seems even bigger when empty.

74.74.

They arrive back to...

Sonny sits down. Strasser paces to the window. Looks out across the wide campus. The parking lot. The forest.

75.75.

Sonny removes a small square BOX. It’s bright pink. He slides it across the table to Strasser, who opens it to reveal...

A CUPCAKE. A single candle in the top.

Sonny reaches into his pocket for a LIGHTER. Snaps a flame to life.

76.76.

Strasser shakes his head. Smiles. Blows out the candle.

Peter leans against the door.

Sonny and Strasser follow Moore into the lab, Strasser still carrying his cupcake. Tinker is straddled across a chair.

And for the first time, we see...

THE AIR JORDAN 1’s.They’re beautiful. One-of-a-kind.

High-cut. The color blocking giving the appearance that its made of individual pieces.

The Nike swoosh is displayed prominently, and toward the top sits the Air Jordan logo, in the shape of the plastic pilot wings. The shoes look at once timeless and like they’ve been sent from the future.

On the bottom: AIR SOLES - made up of concentric circles, like ripples in a pond.

77.77.

They turn to see...

Tinker’s eating the cupcake.

Sonny back across Phil’s desk.

78.78.

Sonny comes blazing into Strasser’s office.

He looks at Strasser. And that says it all.

79.79.

Sonny and Strasser both turn immediately, heads on a swivel, to see...

RICHARD - the guy who approached Strasser in the cafeteria. Standing at the door like he has his hand in the cookie jar.

He nods and leaves the office. Sonny and Strasser get back to the designs. Until...

RICHARD PEEKS HIS HEAD BACK IN.

Sonny and Strasser look at each other right away.That’s it.

80.80.

The ADIDAS meeting is in full swing. Deloris, James, and Michael sitting at the end of the table from the Adidas execs.

And there’s a lot of them. John Fisher and his team along with the entire Dassler family. A small army.

We still don’t see Michael’s face.

They show Michael SHOE PROTOTYPES.

Everyone at the table looks around. And in that split- second... we already know...

81.81.

Sonny sits with Strasser, Phil, and Pete. Meeting prep. The night before.

82.82.

Everyone looks towards Phil. Waiting for his opinion. Phil takes a breath. Sighs.

Sonny keeps going. He knew it.

Strasser nods. He’s right. Again.

83.83.

Phil gives a thin smile. He’s not denying it.

Strasser and Peter get up. Sonny sits still. Phil lingers behind with him.

84.84.

Sonny still at his desk late. Moonlight visible through the half-drawn blinds. Strasser passes by the doorway, peeks in.

Hold on Strasser. Waiting to say something. Searching.

85.85.

He brings Sonny in. Wraps his arms around him.

TIME LAPSE

The sun rises over Nike.

It’s just another day. Another Tuesday in a lifetime of Tuesdays.

Time is a man-made construct.

Sonny waits outside in the parking lot.

He stares up into the sky. The bright sun shining. He watches a plane high in the sky. Just a dot from where he’s standing.

It floats through the air in a straight line, as if it was being pulled by a string.

He breathes in. Breathes out.

A LIMO PULLS UP.

FALK steps out first. Gives Sonny a thin smile and a nod. Like he can’t even believe they’re here.

86.86.

Deloris and James next.

Sonny goes to give Deloris a hug. She takes a step back. Reaches out her hand. Sonny nods. OK, not an ideal start.

And from behind them... out walks...

MICHAEL JORDAN. You know what he looks like. He doesn’t need description. Jordan is the sun of the solar system that is any room he’s in.

Nods. Deloris has spoken. They head through the front doors to...

A banner hangs across the entrance: “THE NIKE FAMILY WELCOMES THE JORDAN FAMILY”

A table with a full spread from Hardee’s. A feast. Everything on the menu. Maybe more.

87.87.

Strasser waits for them by the table.

The party all make their way to...

The same conference room Sonny and Strasser have been sitting in over the past few days. They all find their seats.

The AJ1’s. They look even better in person. High cut leather. Pristine condition. The red and black almost radiating.

88.88.

PHIL gives a knock at the door and walks in.

The lights dim. The projector boots up. And on the screen...

A highlight tape of Jordan’s UNC highlights set to the Pointer Sisters "JUMP".

Sonny watches the Jordan family closely. Examining their faces for any sign or hint.

And it’s clear to him.They look bored. They don’t look impressed.

Sonny looks around. At Strasser. At Phil. We see it inhis eyes. He needs to do something.

Everyone at the table starts to look around.What the hell is going on?

Sonny stands up. The video abruptly halts.

89.89.

Sonny looks right at Jordan.

Sonny stares Michael Jordan right in the eye.He’s not scared.

INTERCUT YOUNG MICHAEL PLAYING - HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE

INTERCUT FLASHES OF THE FUTURE:

The Michael Jordan we all know. Skinny as a rookie, streaking down the court in iconic Bulls red.

Battles with the Bad Boy Pistons. Isaiah Thomas. Heartbreak.

90.90.

The first title. Beating Magic Johnson. Sobbing with the Larry O’Brien Trophy.

The death of his father. Found murdered in a car.

His retirement from Basketball. Taking hacks in the minors with the White Sox. Jordan rides the bus.

Coming out of retirement. The “I’m back” press release.

The second three-peat.

Hitting the final shot of his Bulls career. The leap. The fist pump.

91.91.

The lights come up. Strasser looks to Phil and Pete.Holy shit.

Sonny places the shoe on the table.

92.92.

Sonny catches their eyes on the way out. Nods.

Everyone waits until the Jordan party is out the door. They look around.

Sonny is just standing there. Almost in a daze.

Moonlight shines through the blinds.

He sits down at his desk. Leans back in his chair. And for the first time...

Sonny closes his eyes.

Those same eyes, now startled awake by...

THE RINGING PHONE.

93.93.

We can hear Falk flipping through pages over the phone.

94.94.

Sonny grits his teeth.

Sonny barges through the door.

95.95.

Sonny drops the revised contract on Phil’s desk.

Sonny gets up from the chair. Walks over to Phil’s wall. TAKES A FRAME OFF IT.

Sonny turns the frame over. Releases the hatch on the back. Takes the paper out.

Places it on Phil’s desk. Grabs one of Phil’s pens. And circles something. Phil looks down...

It’s the NIKE TEN COMMANDMENTS. The circled sentences reads:

BREAK THE RULES: FIGHT THE LAWS.

96.96.

Sonny holds the commandments back up.

Phil picks up his pen. Looks at Sonny.

Signs the paper.

Sonny on his phone. Waiting as it rings. Until...

INTERCUT

97.97.

A beat as we hear her call for Michael.

98.98.

Michael laughs.

Close on Michael. Biting his lip. Thinking.

Sonny’s back on with Falk.

99.99.

Sonny hangs up. Takes a deep breath in. He did it.

100.100.

Phil sits alone at his desk. Tossing the plastic basketball up and down.

A KNOCK at the door. He turns to see Sonny standing in the open frame.

101.101.

He shoots at the basket. It misses.

102.102.

Sonny leaves the room. Phil sits alone, reflecting.

He cracks a smile.

TITLE CARD READS: THREE MONTHS LATER

Sonny back at the grocery store.

A BOX OF WHEATIES....

Michael Jordan is on the cover. Holding Nikes.

Sonny smiles. He knows.This is just the beginning.

Sonny steps out of the door. Almost like he’s sneaking out. He quietly shuts it behind him.

He’s dressed in... sweatpants? And a drab gray nike sweatshirt.

He leans down. Tries to touch his toes, unsuccessfully. Breathes in. And it’s just about now when we understand...

He’s going for a run.

He takes off. Breathing heavy. Faster. Faster.

INTERCUT TITLE CARDS:

Nike’s revenue goal in year one of Air Jordan was $3 million.

SONNY SPRINTS DOWN THE STREET. The humid air heavy in his lungs.

They sold $162 million.

He’s panting. Drenched in sweat.

103.103.

Today, Air Jordan brings in over $3 billion in annual revenue for Nike.

HE STOPS. Puts his hands on his knees. Gasping for air.

Looks up. The summer sun shining through the leaves.

He looks back...

He only made it a block.

But that’s a start.

TITLE CARDS CONTINUE:

Phil Knight retired in 2015 after 51 years serving as CEO and Chairman of Nike. Nike acquired Converse in 2003.

Rob Strasser left Nike in 1987 to serve as CEO of Adidas America. He died of a heart attack in 1993.

Sonny was fired from Nike in 1991.He went on to work at Adidas, where he helped court another once-in-a-generation talent... Kobe Bryant.

END