6 Terrifying (and True) Sneaker Horror Stories

Six tales of of true sneaker horror.

1.

Let's face it. At one point or another, something terrible has happened to our sneakers. Whether they've been ruined, stolen, or blown out, everyone has a story to tell. There's no better time to share these sneaker nightmares than Halloween. Here, six sneakerheads share the most horrifying and true tales of actual mishaps that've happened to their sneakers. Read below, if you dare. 

(as told to Gerald Flores)

Night of the Living Deadstock

by John Gotty

My worst experience created a shoe walk of shame. Any time you wear older pairs, there's always a risk of a blowout, the sole falling off or countless other random mishaps. Well, I decided to break out a pair of black Nike Trainer Is from around 2001 last year. I'd worn them a few times before with no problem, but on that ill-fated day they gave out on me. 

My daughter's school had a volleyball game at a nearby school and I was in the bleachers supporting, being a good dad. Early on in the first match, I happened to look down at saw a small chunk of black foam-type material laying in the bleachers. Didn't think much of it and kept watching the game, shifting my seating position from sitting up to crossing my legs to leaning back, when I noticed another piece of the same black material laying on the bleachers. That's when I happened to look down at one of my shoes. Tragedy had struck. 

2.

Reaching down, I curiously touched the bottom of my left shoe. Another bit fell. Pieces were crumbling from the soles of my Trainers every time I blinked or the gym's AC blew a little bit of wind their way. This wasn't looking good at all but, thankfully, the school we were at was only about 10 minutes from the house. The only problem was the gym entrance was alllllll the way across the court and it felt like I was sitting a hundred miles away from it. I'd have to walk the full sideline of the basketball court and then the baseline. In front of everyone. But, I'm no chump and I don't embarrass easily so I manned up and started my march. With each step, another piece crumbled. By the time I reached the gym floor and took maybe 6-7 steps, the heels were disintegrating and becoming uncomfortable to walk in. And leaving a trail of black bits behind me. 

I got out of there and drove home. The shoes were grinding to pieces when I hitting the gas and brakes. I swapped into another all-black pair of kicks, so as to not raise suspicion when I got back to the game. I'm pretty sure the kids and smattering of parents sprinkled in the crowd didn't really notice what was happening. Still, there was probably at least one person who noticed the mess I left behind during my exit. 

Friday the 13s

by Brett Golliff

My horror story involves my Air Jordan XIII and a party. The XIII is my favorite shoe of all time, I have documented this numerous times on the internet. I have one original pair of XIIIs, the White/Red. I rarely, and I mean rarely, wear them. In the summer of 2006, I decided to wear them to a party. The party was at my house though so I felt I could keep it under control but I was very wrong. See my girlfriend (now wife) decided to drink wine that night. Usually she's a Vodka girl or beer girl. Both would have been better selections that night. She was the entertainer of the party as they were mainly her friends at the residence. I must say that my wife by all standards is phenomenal with her alcohol intake but when you have a bottle of white wine and then move directly onto a bottle of red wine it can be in a problem for anybody. 

3.

So I am sitting next to her on our deck as we all talk and tell stories into the wee hours of the night. Pretty typical midwest summer night. But with any amount of alcohol the stories get louder, longer and more animated...add that to the fact that my wife mixed her colors and I soon had a new colorway for my Air Jordan XIII. More of a deep red as opposed to white. I will say I never tried to call attention to it, I just instantly disappeared because I knew what had happened. 

I went to work getting the stain out. Straight cold water, blot and repeat. I did this for a good 15 minutes and was able to extract all wine from the white leather. 

Invasion of the Sneaker Snatchers

by DJ Neil Armstrong

Before I was a DJ and an adidas sneakerhead I had a "normal" corporate job at an investment banking firm. My parents always taught me to be smart with my stacks, so I bought a crib out in queens at the relatively young age of 24 . I kept the crib which had a 2 car garage and this split level situation going on. Eventually I moved out and got a spot out in Jersey City to be closer to manhattan. I kept the crib, and since I wasn't living there anymore I rented out the first floor to a tenant to cover some of the mortgage. But I kept the garage to store my kicks and records and whatever else I was hoarding.

Among the batch that would end up in there were these kicks released for the All Star weekend in 2011 for Snoop Dogg that I got signed by the man himself after one of our events together, and the whole Undrcwn x adidas believe in 5 collection.

Last year I ended up moving out of the crib, and i got a chance to go through my whole collection. By that time my garage had turned into a nightmare, like a storage locker straight out of storage wars. Boxes everywhere, old furniture, stacks of records .

After searching through the stuff I could see in front of me, most of my kicks were accounted for, except for those snoop dog signed joints and all the Believe in five Undrcrwn joints. So I kept going through EVERYTHING. Took the whole place apart which took about a day.

No luck.

So of course sneakers just don't disappear into thin air. Turns out one of two things happened. When I was getting my kitchen upgraded some of the workers would store their materials and tools in the garage... so its possible that one of them took them. Most likely though it was my former tenant. For a while everything was copacetic with him... he lived in the first floor of the crib for almost 5 years. But around year three he lost/ gave up his job, and his ability to pay me my rent was non existent. Unfortunately, kicking out a Tenant in NYC is NOT an easy thing to do, and it takes A Lot of time. If a renter in NYC really wants to be a horrible person, he or she can "squat" in a dwelling for up to a year by legally delaying the judicial process. 

In order to get him out of the crib quickly so that I could move out of the house and get it in the hands of the new owner, we needed to "Pay him off" to leave the premises. Seriously. SO even though he owed me loot for passed due rent, we had to pay him to leave... AND on top of that he most likely took a bunch of my irreplaceable Sneakers in the process. 

Bride of Fake-nstein

by Dallas Penn

Every mail order sneaker fiend's worst nightmare is when you open your box and learn your pickup is straight up bahndouloo. Benghazi. Fugazi. Fake.

What did I do to deserve this treatment? Was I not thorough enough to snipe the winning bid with less than 10 seconds remaining in the auction? Was I not PayPal ready? You then process this hurt through the five stages of grief.

4.

Denial that someone would sell you a fake shoe. Anger towards the seller of the shoes. Bargaining with the seller for a discount or refund to the fake shoes your hypebeast ass bought. Depression that eBay and PayPal don't assist you with your bargaining and finally the acceptance that your shoes are fake but still wearable.

Nightmare's aren't all that bad after all, except for the one where you catch a beatdown for your kicks. That one scars you for life.

The Reebok Classic Massacre 

by Rich Lopez

Before heading to spring break in Cancun, I made sure that I copped something purely for the trip. I came up on a pair of white patent leather Reebok Classics with navy trim. Now you might be asking yourself, Reebok Classics? Well youngin', there was a time when Reebok Classics were killing. I packed my Classics and in my head I wanted to make sure that I broke them out at the right time during the trip. I couldn't just throw them on first night, that would be too thirsty. Fast forward a couple of days into the trip and my man either drank the water or ate too many tacos and he came back into the hotel room and threw up his entire trip on the Reebok Classics that I had carefully laid out to rock that night. All that planning and I never even got a chance to rock them. They were ruined. Rock your kicks. Lesson learned.

5.

The Icing

by Foamer Simpson

Rewind to '98 real quick. I finally had enough money saved up to buy a nice pair of shoes. No more K-Mart specials for the kid. I went to my local spot and as soon as I walked in, BAM! The Nike Air Max 120 - beautiful! The orange gradient, the air bubble, everything was money. Naturally I rocked them straight out of the store. I was feeling like a million bucks; you couldn't tell me nothing. So what do I do? Grab an icy before I stunt at the park. The sneaker God had other plans though. Not even 10 seconds after I had the icy in my hand I notice a drip of mango plummeting towards my shoe like a kamikaze jet. I admit it I panicked. I tried to move my foot, but to no avail - it was a direct hit. The damage had been done. The agony was almost unbearable. It's true I got one of the freshest pair of sneakers ever created that day, along with a delicious icy... and with it a little bit of humble pie.

Nightmare on My Sneaks

by DJ Delz

6.

The worst sneakerhead nightmare that still haunts me to this day was few years ago. I was looking in my OG Jordan collection and my eyes locked in at my original 1993 Air Jordan 8s. I thought to myself how crazy if would be to try on these old classic shoes on my feet. I was feeling brave and careless knowing this could end up really bad. I decided to throw them on anyway and as soon as I stood up in them and took one step, the midsoles literally went POOF. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. R.I.P. When I see a pair of Playoff 8s, it pains me thinking about that night. I just shake my head like DAMN.