This was better than expected for a hagiographic business memoir!
First off, I learned a lot about Nike. I didn't realize that it had its origins as a shoe reseller (for Onitsuka, no less), nor that its success was so recent.
I also found myself drawn to Knight, whose aw-shucks brand of business acumen — combined with a fierce competitive spirit and just a hint of nationalist fervor — made for an interesting and useful narrator. I would be lying if I didn't see a bit of myself in Knight's early days: Nike was, quite literally, a side project for the first five years of its life, and I could not help but draw some parallels between his quest for having it all and my own.
You can tell that some of this book is rewriting history — and that the ghostwriter went a bit too hammy — but it is still fun to read through. The epilogue is pure soup and melodrama (the three-page aside about the Nike sweatshop controversy should have been left on the cutting room floor), and I think the unwritten thread woven through the entire thing is how little Knight cares about his family.
But I learned a lot and thought a good deal.