Before the advent of my "Coffee/Apple/Scotch Diet" — an effective nutritional scheme so brilliant in its simplistic charms that it makes that fat troll from Subway cry in his six-inch Italian B.M.T. — I was, admittedly, a tad overweight.
Unfortunately, my obesity existed during a Euro-trash men's fashion movement that catered to metrosexuals. It was a calculated response to hip-hop culture that featured light, silken, tight-fitting fabrics that made for even tighter-fitting t-shirts. I was always one of these guys who somehow landed between sizes: I swam in an XL, but was a little too XL for an L. But my ex-wife was a fan of places like H&M, so I would attempt to squeeze into the chest-hugging couture shirts that were sold there.
It wasn't a pretty sight.
Seriously, I looked like someone trying to smuggle six loaves of bread under a parachute.
But I felt like I needed to give it a shot, because I wasn't about to retreat into a wardrobe of moo-moos, jumbo hockey sweaters, and trench coats. To me, oversized men's clothes are like salary caps: the larger they are, the more likely it is that you'll expand up to them rather than curb your consumption because of them.
So, perhaps, this new fashion trend in college basketball and professional hockey can be seen as a dietary control. If you want to wear a form-fitting jersey, you have to have the body to look the part, or else you're going to look like an overstuffed sausage in officially licensed gear.
That's the big argument against these things, right? That big fat guys who wear jerseys to the games won't be able to rock these sleek, streamlined replicas? As if Nike and Reebok will all of a sudden stop catering to the XXXXL crowd? As if a fear of overly tight gear has ever deterred a guy with King Kong Bundy's physique from trying to pour himself into a medium Lynyrd Skynyrd concert tee from 1975?
Nonsense. Fat guys in little clothes will continue to exist as long as there are beaches, 60-year-old Europeans, and Speedos on God's beautiful Earth.
In hockey, I'm not that concerned about the fan implications of form-fitting jerseys. The NHL listened to its public for once when that public uniformly (hehe) exclaimed that you don't f**k with the hockey sweaters, Gary. The jerseys that debuted during the All-Star Game were less Under Armour and more Rollerball ... which is a little inconsistent with the NHL's current marketing model, because I'm pretty sure they promoted violence and physical play in Rollerball. Must be why so many people watched it on television...
The only concerns I have left about these new jerseys are price and prestige.
Price in the sense that the NHL and its team owners clearly see this jersey reboot as a money-grab. (What, those piggy banks didn't get filled enough during the lockout, boys?) Even if the jerseys aren't comparable to the classic sweaters of the last half century, fans will still buy them. The NHL recently reported that licensed merchandise sales on its website were up 75% in February as compared to a year ago.
Part of that was the fact that the Buffalo Sabres accounted for seven of the top 11 players on the best-seller list for the month. That means after the team was publicly flogged for adopting a logo that resembled the love child of a tree slug and a Mohawk from "The Road Warrior," the fans still purchased a butt-load of new sweaters. (The fact that Buffalo has been leading the Eastern Conference since October hasn't hurt, either.)
The fans will clearly buy anything you sell them — see the amount of Gorton's Fisherman era Islanders jerseys that haven't yet been burned on Long Island — so I'm concerned that these new jerseys will be used to price gouge them. All-star player models sold for well over $300 this year. No matter how much you want to pimp the space-age materials used in these products, that's way too much for fans that are already spending top-dollar for meaningless regular season tickets.
As I said, my other concern is prestige. A lot of teams are going to tweak their look and tweak their logo in order to maximize the need for fans to purchase these new jerseys. If any franchise with a long-standing tradition in their logo or color scheme opts for a radical change — I'm looking at you, Original Six teams — how many fans will grab their torches and head down to Reebok HQ ASAP?
I know I will.
Meanwhile, on the college hardwood, Nike debuted its "System of Dress" at the Big East Tournament this week: a lightweight, breathable, form-fitting top and long, lightweight, loose-fitted shorts. Much like in the NHL, college basketball officials immediately claimed the new jerseys would make the game more attractive and dramatically cut down on holding fouls.
The second claim, I think, is ludicrous. Watching Syracuse — one of four teams rocking the new look these days — operate in the duds showed that the jerseys will still have some give to them; enough, I imagine, to be able to earn a tug if a defender is closely guarding a shooter.
As for "the look" these new jerseys provide a college basketball player, Nike Business Director Hans George kept mentioning they "create a dramatic new silhouette for the game of basketball" in a recent interview. Influenced, evidently, by a shift in youth culture from the baggy hip-hop vibe to a more "tailored" look.
And by tailored, of course, he means "sexy."
Let's face it: basketball jerseys have always had their sex appeal, from the very first time L.L. Cool J tossed one on in a video. But as hip-hop has transitioned from thug life to the board room, basketball fashion had to be dragged along with it. First it's suits and ties in the interview room, and now it's jerseys that look like they came off the rack at Banana Republic. Sloppy's out, and sex sells.
It's no longer enough that basketball jerseys show off bulging biceps and broad shoulders. Now we get to see rippling pecs and flat stomachs, draped by a whisper of a jersey. It's like watching a track athlete play hoops, save for the overly baggy shorts that keep the uniform grounded in street wear.
But are those shorts really keeping with the spirit of this "new silhouette for the game of basketball?" They're so baggy, so easily held by a desperate defender. And they really, really look strange with the new jerseys tucked into them.
I imagine if the "form-fitting" trend is a success, we'll one day have a basketball uniform that's basically an officially-licensed unitard — more Apolo Anton Ohno than LeBron James.
Now there's a silhouette John Amaechi can get behind...
Programming Note
As many of you may know, I've been a snarking head on ESPN Classic's "Top 5 Reasons You Can't Blame" show for the last year. Well, the same producers have created a new program called "The Missing Link" that airs every Wednesday night on Classic. It's a "six degrees"-type show that connects unlikely duos — Alex and Chi-Chi Rodriguez, for example — through a series of strange relationships.
The first showing was this week. The good news is that it's well-written, fast-paced, and great fun. The bad news is that although I appeared several times in the episode, I look wintry pale and over-lit and quite hideous with my stupid Irish complexion — like a giant harlequin Thanksgiving Day balloon that needs to be popped.
Sure, I'm funny ... but otherwise, hide the children.
Greg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].
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