The sports apparel world was sent into a frenzy last summer when Reebok, in a bold bid to reclaim cultural relevance, announced a groundbreaking endorsement deal with LSU basketball superstar Angel Reese—immediately positioning her as the face of their women’s division and sparking predictions that the partnership could redefine marketing in women’s sports.

The agreement, rumored to be worth eight figures over multiple years with significant bonus incentives, was hailed as a victory for female athletes and a savvy move by Reebok to capitalize on Reese’s massive social media following and magnetic personality, which had made her a household name after leading LSU to a national championship.

At the time, Reebok CEO Todd Krinsky gushed about Reese’s “authenticity and star power,” declaring her “the perfect embodiment of our brand’s resurgence,” while Reese herself beamed in promotional photoshoots, stating, “Reebok gets it. They’re ready to empower women athletes like never before.”

Angel Reese arrived at Reebok as arguably the most marketable athlete in women’s basketball, fresh off a historic NCAA tournament run where her on-court dominance was matched only by her viral celebrations and unapologetic confidence.

Her massive online presence—boasting millions of followers across TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter—combined with her ability to dominate headlines made her a dream signing for any brand looking to connect with Gen Z consumers, and Reebok, still fighting to shed its reputation as a has-been brand overshadowed by Nike and Adidas, saw her as a potential game-changer who could inject energy into their women’s line and attract a new generation of shoppers.

Industry analysts initially praised the deal as “genius,” with one noting, “Reebok needed a lightning rod, and Angel Reese is exactly that—controversial, compelling, and impossible to ignore.”

However, the euphoria surrounding the partnership began to sour almost immediately as Reebok struggled to translate Reese’s popularity into tangible sales success, with early reports indicating that her signature sneaker line, the “Reebok Reese,” was underperforming drastically at retail.

Despite heavy marketing pushes featuring Reese in edgy, personality-driven ads, the shoes failed to gain traction with consumers, who criticized the design as “clunky,” “uninspired,” and lacking the innovation expected from a flagship signature model.

Worse, the launch was marred by supply chain issues that left major retailers without stock for weeks, frustrating fans who rushed to buy the product only to find it unavailable, while the $140 price point was deemed too steep for a player without prior sneaker endorsement experience.

The real disaster struck when Reebok attempted to position Reese as a unifying figure in women’s sports, releasing a series of ads that highlighted her journey from underdog to champion while preaching messages of empowerment—a strategy that backfired spectacularly as critics and consumers alike accused the brand of hypocrisy for aligning with Reese after she had been involved in multiple on-court controversies, including a highly publicized taunting incident during the national championship game that drew criticism from basketball purists.

The backlash intensified when Reese made headlines for her public feud with fellow star Caitlin Clark, with Reebok’s social media pages becoming ground zero for heated debates between fans of the two players, many of whom vowed to boycott the brand over its association with Reese.

“Reebok tried to sell Angel as some kind of feminist icon, but she’s been divisive from day one,” argued sports marketing expert Maria Torres. “They ignored the red flags because they wanted the hype, and now they’re paying for it.”

Financially, the deal has proven to be a catastrophic miscalculation for Reebok, with internal sources revealing that the company has already lost over $20 million on the Reese partnership in just the first year due to poor sales, excessive marketing spend, and the cost of terminating other endorsement deals to make room for her.

The “Reese” line is reportedly being discontinued after just one season, with unsold inventory piling up in warehouses, while retailers have slashed prices by 70% in a desperate fire sale that has further eroded brand value.

Shareholders have grown increasingly restless, with one major investor telling The Wall Street Journal, “This was supposed to be our big comeback moment.

Instead, it’s become a case study in how not to do athlete endorsements.” The fallout has also impacted Reebok’s broader women’s category, which saw growth stall as the Reese debacle overshadowed other initiatives.

Angel Reese has reportedly been left “frustrated and embarrassed” by the deal’s failure, feeling that Reebok failed to properly leverage her brand or provide the creative control she was promised.

Sources close to her indicate she was heavily involved in the early design phases but was sidelined as the company rushed the product to market without her input, leading to a shoe that didn’t reflect her personal style or resonate with her fanbase.

In private conversations, Reese has allegedly expressed regret over signing with Reebok, believing they prioritized short-term hype over long-term strategy, and there are whispers that her camp has already begun exploring exit clauses in her contract to seek a more stable partnership with a brand like Nike or Under Armour.

Publicly, however, Reese has remained defiant, dismissing criticism of the shoe as “hating” and insisting she was proud of her work with Reebok, though she notably stopped promoting the brand on her social media in recent months.

The backlash against Reebok extended far beyond Reese herself, with former endorsers and industry veterans lining up to criticize the company’s handling of the partnership.

Shaquille O’Neal, a Reebok board member and longtime supporter, reportedly voiced concerns internally about the deal’s direction, while Allen Iverson, the brand’s most iconic athlete, allegedly expressed disappointment that Reese wasn’t given the same level of support he received during his prime.

On social media, fans mocked Reebok relentlessly, with memes depicting the “Reebok Reese” as a “brick” (both literally and figuratively) and videos of customers returning the shoes en masse going viral; some even launched petitions calling for Reebok to apologize to Reese for “wasting her prime,” arguing the brand’s incompetence had damaged her marketability.

As Reebok scrambles to contain the damage, the company has reportedly halted all future marketing campaigns involving Reese and is exploring options to restructure or terminate her contract, though legal experts suggest buying out the remaining years could cost them another $10–15 million.

Internally, there is said to be panic over how to reposition the women’s division without her, with some executives pushing for a complete overhaul of their endorsement strategy to focus on less polarizing athletes.

The disaster has also raised serious questions about Reebok’s leadership, with CEO Todd Krinsky facing intense scrutiny for greenlighting the deal despite warnings from his team about Reese’s divisiveness and the challenges of launching a signature shoe for a WNBA rookie.

The broader implications for athlete endorsements are profound, as the Reese-Reebok implosion serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of overpaying for viral fame without a concrete plan for sustainable success.

Brands are now expected to be more cautious when pursuing athletes with massive social followings but unproven retail appeal, while female athletes may find it harder to secure lucrative long-term deals as companies grow wary of perceived risks.

For Angel Reese, the fallout has been a brutal lesson in the business side of sports, but it has also underscored her undeniable star power—multiple industry sources confirm that despite the Reebok disaster, she remains one of the most sought-after endorsers in women’s athletics, with competing brands already circling in hopes of offering her a fresh start.

As for Reebok, the company is left licking its wounds, haunted by the ghost of a deal that promised revolution but delivered only regret—a stark reminder that in the high-stakes world of sports marketing, hype alone is never enough.