‘Air’ Celebrates Risk-Taking, Grit, Parental Love—and Capitalism Itself

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There isn’t an American alive who doesn’t know how the new movie Air—now available for free to Amazon Prime subscribers—ends: Nike’s Air Jordan sneakers became an iconic American brand that’s transcended the sport—and time. The proof? My 18-year-old daughter owns three pairs, including one with the North Carolina blue accent. She’s a barrel racer, not a baller, and wouldn’t know a Tar Heel from a Terrapin. But her Air Jordan collection is a prized possession.

What most Americans don’t know is how Nike, at the time a sneaker company in the Pacific Northwest dedicated to runners and joggers, landed a contract with the man who would become the greatest basketball player in the history of the game: Michael Jordan.

One man and one woman—the two real stars of the story and movie—altered the outcome of sports business history. The man was Sonny Vaccaro (played by Matt Damon), the pudgy, middle-aged, Members Only jacket–wearing Nike hoops guru who saw in Jordan not just another great NBA player but a generational talent. A talent around whom Nike could build a sneaker and a company.

The woman was not a sports agent or talent manager but ended up being the best dealmaker in sports and business history: Michael Jordan’s mother, Deloris (played beautifully by Viola Davis).

The story begins in 1984 with a big problem for Nike. Jordan, the No. 3 pick in the NBA draft (after Akeem Olajuwon and Sam Bowie), had no interest in meeting with the quirky running-shoe company from Oregon, let alone partnering with them.

Jordan had a preference for Adidas, which had some big stars in its lineup, and a fancy line of sweatsuits. Converse too was in the running, with stars like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird in its lineup, two players who helped turn the NBA into a prime-time sport. None of that stopped Vaccaro from relentlessly pursuing Jordan, even pulling a big no-no in the field: doing an end run around Jordan’s agent, David Falk, to meet with Jordan’s parents.

It’s during Vaccaro’s trek to North Carolina that we meet the real heroes of the story: Jordan’s parents. Jordan’s father, James, is outside their humble, middle-class home working on the family station wagon. When Vaccaro approaches, it’s immediately clear who runs the show when it comes to family business. Spoiler alert, it’s not Michael’s dad!

Vice President Al Gore talks with Deloris Jordan, the mother of basketball star Michael Jordan, at the 1999 Raoul Wallenberg Humanitarian Award Dinner in Chicago.
LUKE FRAZZA/AFP via Getty Images

It doesn’t take long for Vaccaro to realize he’s dealing with a powerful and purposeful woman in Deloris Jordan. And her God-given purpose is nurturing and protecting her kids. In one of the best scenes in the movie, the two head to a backyard picnic table. It’s a deeply Southern scene as Jordan’s mom politely peppers Vaccaro with questions about his life. She asks how he got the name Sonny, and he tells her the story of how his mom gave him the name during childbirth.

“Is she still with us?” she asked

“She’s not,” Vaccaro answered. “It was a long time ago, but she did her best to raise us.”

“I think it’s admirable giving your life to your family,” Jordan’s mom replied. “You give and give until there’s nothing left to give. And then you give some more. It’s worth it.”

Though she’s in only a few scenes, Deloris is the heart and soul of the film. And Davis, who starred as a fictional African queen in the massive Hollywood flop The Woman King (and suggested the film’s failure was due to racism), this time plays a real-life, powerful American Black woman. One who never once mentions race—or the patriarchy. And never, not for one second, plays the role of victim.

Not long after the scene in the Jordan family’s backyard, we watch Adidas and Converse fail to win over the Jordan family. Nike is about to get its shot. The team in Oregon prepares for the presentation, working tirelessly to come up with not just a new sneaker for the company but a new sneaker designed specifically for one player. The sneaker’s name: Air Jordan. Anyone who has ever worked a long weekend pulling a big project together will identify with the sense of excitement and dread that inhabits every scene leading up to Nike’s big moment.

The presentation goes beautifully, an offer is made, and Jordan’s mom stoically thanks everyone in the room for their efforts. Jordan’s agent lets the Nike team know they’ll call with an answer. Nervously, the Nike team waits until Vaccaro finally gets the call. It isn’t Jordan’s agent on the other line; it’s Jordan’s mom with one final demand: Nike gets the deal if her son gets a percentage—an ownership stake—in all Air Jordan sales. This, Vaccaro tells Jordan’s mom, wasn’t possible, explaining that no athlete, not Bird or Magic or anyone else, has ever received a percentage of the sales.

But Jordan’s mom doesn’t budge, leaving Vaccaro with only one option: sell his boss on the idea, Nike co-founder and CEO Phil Knight (played playfully by Ben Affleck). Knight is at first reluctant, but after a weekend contemplating the matter—and some jogging and meditation—he gives the deal the thumbs-up. And the rest is history.

Nike projected that Air Jordan 1 would generate $3 million in sales over the first four years. The first installment made over $130 million. As of this past February, Nike has raked in over $19 billion from the Air Jordan brand, with Jordan keeping for himself and his family over $1.3 billion, more than any other athlete has ever earned from a shoe contract.

And none of that would have happened without Deloris Jordan, who wanted what was fair and just for her son. Rather than decry capitalism, she embraced it. And in one historic piece of negotiating, she created more wealth than any great agent, lawyer or talent manager in sports or entertainment history.

In an interview with NPR years ago, she had a lot to say about the values she held dear and hoped to impart to her grandchildren. “I want to share with them that nothing comes easy,” she said. “You have to apply yourself and work hard. And when you work hard and do not expect anyone to give you anything, you can be successful.”

And what is the source of that success? She attributed the blessings in her life to an active faith in God and the commitment of both parents to putting the interests of their family first, according to the Christian Broadcasting Network.

After her husband’s murder, she realized that his killers were “two boys who didn’t know love.” Three words, she reminds parents in her work with at-risk kids, are not said often enough: “I love you.” She wasn’t finished with her advice. “And more than anything, incorporate prayer into your family life.”

It is not surprising to anyone who’s seen the film that it has grossed $85 million at the box office worldwide and is currently No. 1 on Amazon Prime. And all without a single explosion or special effect. Just a story that’s as all-American as the sport of basketball itself.

The story of how Air Jordan came to be is about many things, including risk-taking, grit, moxie and—gulp—capitalism. The deal Deloris Jordan helped broker created an entirely new industry, and no one benefited more than professional athletes themselves. As endorsement deals rose, so too did NBA salaries. In 1955, Boston Celtics legend Bob Cousy was the highest-paid NBA player at $25,000 per year. Ten years later, Wilt Chamberlain topped the NBA salary chart with $65,000. In 1975, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was the top-paid player at $500,000. Stephen Curry’s pre-negotiated salary for 2025 is an astounding $55 million. Proving that capitalism does indeed create rather than take. And in this case, it created something out of absolutely nothing.

The most important takeaway from Air, however, transcends sneaker contracts, wealth and fame. At its heart, it is a story about the power of familial and maternal love. The woman who changed the business of sports as much as any other single person was Black, Southern, a mom and a God girl. She helped make her son a billionaire by doing what she was born to do, and what God commanded her to do: take care of her boy.

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