Perhaps you’ve heard of the little situation Major League Baseball got itself into after leaning on Fanatics and Nike to revamp their uniforms. From the WSJ:
The lettering on the nameplates was disproportionately small. The lack of actual embroidery stitching made them resemble cheap knockoffs. Players complained that their pants weren’t sized properly, let alone tailored to their preferences. Then, on team photo days, another issue was revealed: Those pants, designed to prioritize breathability, were essentially sheer in the harsh lights of a camera’s flashbulb.
Fans who were eager to see Shohei Ohtani in his new Los Angeles Dodgers uniform were suddenly left wondering if they were seeing a little too much of Shohei Ohtani.
The WSJ article gives a close look at the ambition and institutional miscommunication that led to this disaster, but this is only the most hilarious example of a broader “jersey modernization gone wrong” trend.
It’s hard to peg an exact date to it, but perhaps this started back in 2011, when Maryland football unveiled uniforms that looked intentionally hideous. Or maybe this started in 2013, when Adidas tried to pioneer shirseys in the NBA to widespread mockery. For whatever reason, the social media age has been one with a lot of uniform revampings that seemingly nobody asked for. It is time, and has been time, to stop with all this. There is absolutely nothing wrong with professional sports simply making the uniforms we’re familiar with, in perpetuity.
Why am I writing it up? Because, if someone asked me what subject results in more reader mail than you might expect, it’s uniforms. Many sports fans are sick of leagues trying to revolutionize jerseys and they lack an outlet that’ll listen to this seemingly niche complaint. It’s gotten worse in part because the launching of a new uniform now makes for an instant, easy writeup from media outlets, incentivizing PR-hungry franchises to tinker further.
I, for one, share this fan frustration. From the MLB to the NBA, to college programs trying to make a splash with garish designs, these institutions seem to reject the basic value proposition of being visually familiar. This is perhaps an ironic argument coming from me, former Golden State Warriors beat reporter. After Lacob bought the team, the Warriors embraced a more visually pleasing blue and gold aesthetic, rejecting the arena football patterns of their George W. Bush era years.
Sometimes, a reform actually works. In the case of the Warriors, they were sitting on nearly four decades of previous failure, and a big change didn’t sacrifice much in the way of nostalgia. Their new uniforms were nice, looked more similar to the jerseys of a more successful era (Run TMC) and suddenly coincided with big winning.
So yes, if your franchise lacks cachet, maybe tinker with the uniforms. I don’t think Steve Ballmer’s rebranding of the Clippers will work, but he’s not risking much with the experimentations. My argument is that, once a team has arrived at an aesthetic tethered to many happy fan memories…stop. There’s no real need to go forward. You have your uniforms, so keep them, well, uniform.
Yet the NBA and Nike keep pumping out new versions, for all the teams, perhaps due to economic theories on the value of creating new product. Now it looks like teams are barely anchored to whatever color you associate with them. Nike’s “City Edition” jerseys seemed like a nice idea to create a local themed alternate, but the results mostly underwhelmed. “Underwhelmed” might be putting it kindly, based on the emails I get, and credit to the Wizards Kyle Kuzma for speaking sensibly about the issue:
Nike is ruining the nostalgia of jerseys, every year it’s a new jersey and what gets lost is brand identity.
There you go. There’s a value proposition to a longstanding image. A “brand” isn’t just an empty buzzword uttered by some gimlet-eyed, slick talking suit. Familiarity matters, even more so in our increasingly noise filled world.
I don’t need Notre Dame football to experiment with a chartreuse helmet because their new athletic director finds the classic gold ones boring. Aesthetics can be debated, but it’s undeniable that decades of fans have expected certain colors from the Lakers. I personally find the classic Celtics jerseys sort of boring, but their simplicity is iconic to many a New Englander. Jayson Tatum wears the exact same design that Bill Russell sported, and that’s cooler than any “reimagined” jersey from a consultant shop.
We, as people, generally enjoy having aspects of life that remain unchanged. A lot will change. A lot should change. Jerseys don’t really need to, and largely should not. You oppose a dumb reform like revolutionized uniforms and inevitability encounter some thoughtless “Old Man Yells at Cloud” rejoinder, as though every idea coming from corporate is the unassailable wave of the future. No, sometimes corporations make penny wise, pound foolish decisions that hurt themselves while annoying everybody. This is that.
The bigger point is just that, as much as life involves aspects that cry out for adjustment, it also involves aspects that derive value from their constancy. It’s sometimes difficult to tell former from latter, but it’s a lot easier if you believe the latter actually exists. Reform should be about helping a tradition thrive going forward, not thoughtlessly destroying the very thing many have grown to love. For instance, I’m open to minor rule changes in all the sports and applaud Major League Baseball for taking steps to speed up their game. Baseball is trying to preserve core elements while streamlining the sport just enough to attract more fans. I get it. Constantly meddling with the teams’ signature visual representation? That doesn’t attract new fans. It merely frustrates old ones. Worse than that, it makes the games feel like less a part of history, and more just like disposable noise in a distraction replete present.
The uniforms are another version of fracking the pie. Friend of mine is a VP in the NBA's data science department. When they first made the changes allowing all the variations on the different jerseys, I asked him about whether this made business sense. He told me that the new iterations of jerseys are huge moneymakers for the teams. It's kind of like always having new merch to release. But even then I was annoyed by the change, not because of brand identity per se, but just because it felt weird and annoying to not know what I could expect the teams to look like game to game. And it makes it worse knowing they are doing it for sales. But it might be another one of those things that makes money in the short term but contributes to the decline of the sport in the long run.
can you try to get Paul Lukas on the pod?