Editor’s note: Grand Master is the official SFU overseas rep. Back in the states from a summer tour of East Asia he tells us the results of the hunt. For any true SFU fan the hunt is always an integral part of the shoe. Let’s listen in to his story of SFU glory…
Before we kick this drop off, I’d like to greet all the faithful with some words from the god emcee:
It’s been a long time. I shouldn’t have left you, without some hot kicks to step through.
Word? Word.
This one is for the real heads out there. If you are a real SFU head, you know that heat is not necessarily equated with exclusivity, rareness, or sticker price. That is not a graph whose equation we are interested in charting today.
A real SFU head laughs at those $500 Tier 0 Quickstrike all-night line-ups. He (or she, we at SFUniversity are equal-opportunity heat rockers) simply heads back to the closet a/k/a the ice box (no OMARION) and pulls the heat out the batcave. The joints he found marked down to $50 (and hustled down to $35 cash and a dap) at the local corner sneaker store named Footloose or Sneaker Stop or some such. The ones that ain’t no one – ain’t no one – gonna have on tap for the low except you, because you are a Sneaker Fiend. Salut.
This one is for y’all.
Two weekends ago, I in the company of a few others of select character, hit up a Saturday morning road trip. The destination: Clinton Premium Outlets, on Exit 63 of Interstate 95. Other than a quick excursion into the ‘Lo store (more on that later), the objective was clear and distinct: Nike Factory Store.
You will not be finding no Quickstrikes at a Nike Factory Store. You will not be finding no Tier 0’s, or anything designed by Hiroshi Fujiwara. This is not about quality, this is a strict celebration of gross quantity. As I stepped up and scanned the clearance shelves (the lowest of the back-end rejects), my eyeholes were met with a wide succession of last season’s garish GR (general release) Court Forces, Air Max side-line spinoffs, and last-year’s mid-level ball shoes.
But you got to dig through a heap of dirt to get to the gold nugget, right?
And on this particular weekend, the paydirt was a slew of sample shoes that just hit the racks fresh from the frontlines. Sample shoes are the joints that Nike gets early from the factory – before beginning mass production – and sends around to retailers so as to prep them for the upcoming season. They are only made in Men’s size 9 and, due to being pre-production samples, never go on sale in stores. After they make the rounds and everyone gives the OK, sample shoes are hidden away, any tiny corrections in the manufacturing process are made, and the colorway/material combinations are kept on lock until the proper time for them to come out.
As for the leftover samples? Well, they wind up in places like the Clinton Nike Factory Store, more-or-less none the worse for wear, and get discounted deeply enough that even a bargain hunter (and what sneaker fiend – what fiend, period – isn’t?) is ready to copp two on the low.
Among this varied selection, I found three pair that would make worthy additions to the stash: two premium Court Force lows and a Air Max 1 Premium SP.
Court Force lows are boring shoes, I’m not going to stunt on you like they aren’t. The profile, the materials, the broad lack of inspiration… to me, the CF’s had always been the back-country cousins of the AF1, decent folk with a general deficit in the area of looks + education. But these joints right here had that sizzle on, that inexpressible quality of a definite neck-snapper. Premium materials (snakeskin leather and some kind of bumpy reptile skin), proper colorways, and deluxe laces spell out Must Cop. And with a markdown to $59.99 – and then clearance to $39.99 – I had to go with at least one of these. Thank God I wear size 9’s (8.5, but a half-size up is nothing when you have a habit to support).
These were aiight. I tentatively considered adopting these into the family as the Phoenix or John Blazes…
But the material on the ankle region of these were the kicker. I am a gullible fool for anything with a little texture to it, and these have that in spades.
The crew I was rolling with that Saturday told me that these were some straight up Holiday cheer kicks, but given the reptile leathers used and the mellow deep green of the toebox, I am calling these the Jurassic Parks (a/k/a the Dinosaur Sr.’s, eff a Nike SB premium).
I know the J.P.’s may be a little gaudy, but they are a pair guaranteed to grow on you. Factor in the price, and we have some err’day beaters with some not-so-common flavor. Chea!
I was winning the argument with myself to copp both Court Forces when this pair bodyslammed me from the next rack over. Now, one of my cardinal rules for kicks is simple: no white-on-whites. In fact, no anything-on-whites. With the overall nasty attitude of the New England winter, there is absolutely no reason for me to be caught messing around with anything that gets dirty easy: it’s a no-win situation. But this pair of Air Max 1 Premium SP’s was so fire that I knew I had to break my rules of engagement. Maybe I lost a little something that day; but I have faith that my sacrifice ultimately resulted in the greater sneaker good. And who would I be to deny that?
These AM1’s come out the gate bussin’ heads and acting rowdy. You got your demure white-on-white colorway juxtaposed with a straight raunchy selection of materials: full-grain leather, woven leather, perforated inner. And did I mention that the soles are silver? These are the subtle heat. No white after Labor Day is what they say… but come springtime, these will be in full effect with a properly crispy white fitted and some outright contagious light-washed denims.
I tried to say some words with the NIKE sales associate at the register about cutting even further into the MSRP on these joints due to some light scuffing, but they didn’t hear me though. I knew I could prA’li push it with them, but it wasn’t worth it. At $80 for two pair, I could let them have this one. As I pushed out the door, shopping bag in hand, I was already mentally composing this drop. Grand Master is, after all, for the kids internets. Each one teach one.
In between mental victory laps, though, I did manage to drop by the ‘Lo store and copp a $250 Polo lambs’ wool cardigan marked down to $90 (150 – 30% – 15%).
The lesson for the day has two words. Stay winning.
Peace SFU Family,
