Similarly as with any over the top devotee of specialty interests, the shoe aficionados of “Sneakerheads” invest quite a bit of their energy guarding their fanatic love. Their chase for the ideal tennis shoe, the most uncommon release, the nostalgic top choices that moved away isn’t about the shoe itself, truly. It’s about the adventure of the pursuit, and any person or thing that hinders them is simply one more hindrance to their definitive fulfillment of arriving at the end goal. Yet, as “Sneakerheads” demonstrates, both coincidentally and deliberately, the thing about expeditions is that finding the fortune seldom implies the finish of the chase. There will consistently be that allurement, that feeling that there should be something different out there that is greater and surprisingly better, hanging barely unattainable. More than six windy scenes, Jay Longino’s new Netflix arrangement plays out this dynamic over, and over, and over once more. Recuperating sneakerhead Devin (Allen Maldonado) gave up his gathering days him subsequent to getting hitched to Christine (Yaani Lord Mondschein), however a spat with his previous sidekick Bobby (Andrew Unhitched male) rapidly discovers him falling right once again into his old propensities. The pilot is an independent anecdote about Devin attempting to discover a couple of old top picks in his size, yet from the second scene on, “Sneakerheads” is about Devin and companions attempting to find a legendary pair of AirJordan “zeroes.” Their twisting way to triumph incorporates connecting up with tennis shoe magnate Nori (a sharp Jearnest Corchado) and confused wannabe Stuey (Matthew Josten), an unconstrained outing to Hong Kong and slamming the gigantic compound of Imprint Wahlberg (played with a heavy wink by “Collectibles Roadshow” have Imprint L. Walberg). It’s all sufficiently pleasant, yet by the fourth time Bobby’s plans go amiss and Devin says he’s finished with the entire thing, “Sneakerheads” has truly wrung each drop of motivation from its depleted reason. We get that Devin misses his previous lifestyle and wishes his new one were half as fascinating. We don’t have to see him experience a similar disappointing cycle a few times in succession without anything truly evolving. It doesn’t help that while the sneakerheads get a couple of ounces of character advancement, Christine remains an aggregate, tasteless secret. Not so much as a late-breaking endeavor to give her a circular segment does a lot to recognize her from some other ambushed sitcom spouse, which is an issue when Devin evidently quit any pretense of all that he cherished to be with her. What winds up setting “Sneakerheads” separated more than its subject or round composing is Dave Meyers’ coordinating. Meyers comes from the universe of music recordings, working with specialists like Britney Lances, Janet Jackson and Missy Elliott to have most extreme effect with insignificant time. Given six full half-hours with “Sneakerheads,” Meyers demonstrates an ideal counterpart for an arrangement set in the blanched back streets and shiny alcoves of underground Los Angeles. With an eye for detail and an ability to push even the most cliché shots to an all the more intriguing spot, Meyers brings a liquid, versatile quality to the show that keeps it moving in any event, when the account is stuck in unbiased. “Sneakerheads” debuts Friday, September 25 on Netflix.