Think your family WhatsApp group is dramatic? Wait till you hear about the German brothers whose feud was so bad, they split their shoe business, their hometown, and basically the entire sportswear world. Say hello to the most legendary sibling fallout ever — the one that gave us Adidas and Puma.
Once Best Bros, Then Shoe Bros
Back in 1919, in a small German town called Herzogenaurach (try saying that five times fast), two brothers — Adolf and Rudolf Dassler — teamed up to start a shoe business called Gebrüder Dassler Schuhfabrik. That’s German for “Dassler Brothers Shoe Factory” — or just Geda.
Adolf (Adi) was the brains behind the shoes — think sneakerhead engineer. Rudolf (Rudi) was the hype man — the charming extrovert who was more the salesperson. Together, they made magic.
Fast forward to the 1930s, and Geda was making waves. Both brothers joined the Nazi Party in 1933 (as many businesses did to survive at the time), and their company grew rapidly. The real flex came at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, when American track legend Jesse Owens sprinted to gold in Geda shoes — right in front of Hitler. That’s what we call a mic drop moment.
War, Weapons, and (More) Drama
Then came WWII, and like many things, the shoe game took a backseat. Rudi was drafted into the German army, and their factory got converted into a weapons production site. From shoes to bombs — that escalated quickly.
When the war ended, Rudi returned after a short imprisonment by the Allies. By 1948, after more than 30 years of working side by side, the Dassler bros decided that they’d had enough of each other, and finally called it quits. Geda was shut down, and the brothers split — shoes, staff, factory, and feelings.
When the split went down, Adi got the factory near the train station, plus about two-thirds of the employees — turns out most folks preferred his focus on making next-level shoes over Rudi’s all-sales-no-vibes approach. Rudi took the other factory on Würzburger Street, along with the remaining one-third of the team. Basically: Adi got the sneaker nerds, Rudi got the sales bros.
Adi rebranded his half of the company as Adidas (Adi + Dassler, very efficient), and Rudi set up his own shop called Ruda — which he quickly changed to Puma, because honestly, Ruda sounds like a budget toothpaste.
The Feud
Why the dramatic break-up? One version blames their wives, who apparently couldn’t stand each other but were forced to live in the same villa. Another theory? Rudi suspected that Adi snitched on him to the Allies during the war, possibly triggering his conscription and a short post-war imprisonment.
Their little town? Also split. If you worked for Adidas, you didn’t talk to Puma people. Marrying someone from “the other side” was like dating your poly rival school’s star player — confirmed family drama. Even the local football scene wasn’t spared. FC Herzogenaurach rocked Puma, while their rivals, ASV Herzogenaurach, repped Adidas. Naturally, this turned into more than just a game — it became a full-blown turf war, and everyone picked a side.
People even looked down at your shoes before deciding whether to say hi. The town literally earned the nickname “the town of bent necks.” Yes, just because of sneakers.
And Yet… Both Won
Despite all the pettiness, Adidas and Puma both exploded into global brands. Adidas gave us the three stripes, Yeezys (before things got weird), and all the FIFA World Cup feels. Puma went bold with style, and later signed legends like Usain Bolt, Rihanna, and even Singapore’s favourite pre-2000s football team, Italy.
One of the most legendary moments in the Adidas-Puma beef? The infamous “Pelé Pact.” Before the 1970 World Cup, both brands agreed to not chase Pelé, who was basically the Beyoncé of football at the time. Why? They were scared a bidding war would burn a hole in their wallets. But guess what? Puma couldn’t resist. They broke the pact, and signed Pelé anyway. They offered him USD$120,000 and had him pause before kick-off to tie his shoelaces — just so the world could get a good, long look at those Puma King boots.
As for the brothers? They never reconciled. Rudolf died in 1974, followed by Adolf in 1978. Even in death, they’re buried on opposite ends of the same cemetery in Herzogenaurach.
So What’s the Lesson Here?
Petty fights can go big — like, billion-dollar global business big. But also maybe… text your sibling back more often. And next time you’re deciding between Adidas Superstars or Puma Suedes, remember: you’re literally stepping into one of the most iconic family feuds ever.
Not bad for a pair of grumpy German uncles.
