Did you play high school sports in the late 80s or early 90s? You’re lying if you say you didn’t pony up for some Strength Shoes (or hit up your head-shaking parents, as I did). What’s that? You didn’t? Never thought about it, huh? Well, I don’t believe you.
My sporty white Strength Shoes were purchased somewhere in the vicinity of 1992. That year, Cedric Ceballos took home the Slam Dunk crown on that ridiculously-underwhelming blindfold dunk (puh-leez). But that’s neither here nor there. More importantly, it was the year I decided my chubby, flat-footed ass was going to majestically add 10-15 inches to my vertical, so I could throw down during my next JV hoops game.
The Strength Shoe of that era looked like a not-so-trendy tennis shoe with a giant half moon platform attached to the bottom front section. Strength shoes added about four or five inches to your stature, but, more importantly (I think) forced the calves to bear the brunt of most of your body weight. The platform was the only part of the shoe touching the ground.
So, I ran during the summer with my Strength Shoe. I shot buckets in the backyard with my Strength Shoe. I jumped rope with my Strength Shoe. And then…very little happened. It could be partly due to the fact that I did none of the above with any regularity. Or it could be that I just don’t have any ups – period. Regardless, the Strength Shoe never managed to get me much closer to the rim than the bottom of the backboard (which I slapped on layup lines with authority!).
Perhaps, I would have rocked my Strength shoes more often had they been of the hipper variety featured below. Or perhaps not. For those still looking to live the dream, check out Strength-Systems.com for more on the one and only Strength Shoe.
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About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.