These are the worst NBA player custom sneakers

An NBA player’s signature shoe is the ultimate signifier of their brand. These kicks reflect and refract the personality and power of those who wear them. Since Michael Jordan signed with Nike in 1984, the shoe skyrocketed from casual mediocrity into a phenomenon all its own. Almost every major basketball player since Jordan has partnered with one of the major sneaker companies — Nike, adidas, Reebok, etc. — for their signature shoe.

Not every shoe has succeeded in representing the skills of the player who wore them. As this list will show, even the Mount Rushmore of the NBA has created ugly-as-hell kicks. We have collected the biggest player shoe fails except the Big Baller Brand, which deserves its list of sh*ttiness. These sneakers are as bad as the players who wore them were great.

It’s still a mystery how former NBA players used to play full-court basketball in Converse All-Stars, a uniquely uncomfortable shoe with zero support. Wade’s first signature shoe looks and feels no better than its predecessors. The sneaker’s appearance was dated upon release, personifying the harsh masculine aesthetic of the early 2000s. The black-on-red color scheme belies the actual design, resembling something found in an unfinished H.R. Giger sketchbook.

This shoe could only exist in the early 2000s milieu. This aesthetic and artistic dark period produced some horrific style choices. Sprewell was infamous for an IDGAF attitude, which shined through in this collaboration with Dada shoes, incorporating then-famous spinning car rims into the shoe design.

If the shoes and those who wore them didn’t take themselves so seriously, it could easily be seen as an artifact from Marcel Duchamp’s Dada period. Unfortunately, we got the wrong “Dada.”

Produced during Jason Kidd’s first stint with the Dallas Mavericks, these kicks incorporated the color scheme of his early Mavs jersey.

It’s cool to see Nike partner with the point guard early in his Hall-of-Fame career, showing foresight into the tastemaker Kidd would become (as a player, not a coach).

Unfortunately, the shoe’s signature gesture, the metallic, plastic bubble on its side, was easily scratched and scuffed, making it impossible to enjoy the damn things before they went downhill — like Kidd’s first stint in Dallas.

This is a tough one. On the one hand, it’s incredible this happened in 2006 when athletes had no concept of social issues, the wealth gap, and kids murdering each other for the newest Air Jordans. But Stephon Marbury paved the way for affordability and cultural equity by selling his sneakers for just $14.98. The shoes implemented the orange and blue color scheme of his then-New York Knicks team.

Now, these shoes are ugly as hell. And no one with any cache wore them. But the attempt was more important than the result. And the world would be better if more shoe companies thought about the broader implications of price points and wealth gaps when charging for a pair of damn shoes.

While Kobe might have emulated Jordan’s game on the court, he struggled to mimic his iconic style off it.

Neither his trapping nor style of dress ushered in any epochs.

In the era of Escalades and Hummers dominating strip club parking lots, Kobe released a signature shoe resembling an aluminum tank.

The shell-like Kobe 2’s were as ugly as Kobe’s beautiful game. If avant-garde designer Rick Owens released this today as a sculpture or a shoe, they would be in high demand.

But as something you wear when you try to hit a fall-back, turn-around, or jump shot, they are as useless as a screen door on a submarine.

Warner Brothers must have been blinded by dollar signs from Jordan’s Space Jam success when they signed Bryant Reeves — aka “Big Country” — to a shoe deal.

Reeves was everything Jordan wasn’t: Earthbound, slow, and, well... white.

Reeves never lived up to the billing of someone worth a shoe deal; he averaged just 12.5 points per game and 6.9 rebounds per game during his career. Oddly enough, it’s dudes who resemble Reeves, dad-bod bros, who would wear his shoes today.

A pair of Reeves Warner Bros collab is a precursor to every New Balance dad shoe worn on coffee shop dates nationwide.

The same year LeBron James made his first Finals (2007), he also released his ugliest shoe, the LeBron V’s. These kicks resemble the Instagram DayGlo paintings of Jimi Hendrix and Biggie Smalls — art made by artists trying to invoke bygone celebrity and style.

The V’s bastardized the Air Force 1, which used straps as a defining design element. But they look like something Soulja Boy would wear as a belt on these.

A shoe so ugly, it reflects the heart of the man whose name it bears. Karl Malone is an all-time piece of sh*t. His shoes are, too. These clunky, chunky trash cans embody everything ugly with the soul of the Mailman — hideous and repugnant.

King of the spiritual ancestor to Kanye West’s shutter shades, these shoes utilized sharp lines on the side of the shoe for a textured feel. Iverson had some all-time bangers during his time with Reebok, especially his first signature shoe, the Reebok Question. But the XIII reflected where Iverson was in his career by 2009, past his prime and losing a bit of his influence to a younger generation.

These kicks were so ugly even Joakim Noah has disavowed them. The French shoe company signed Noah to a six-year $6 million deal in 2007. Noah claims they robbed him of more than $1.65 million. No matter who is right, the shoes are still ugly as hell. Noah even claims their poor design ruined his feet, hurting his pocketbook, career, and reputation.