TBA

TBA does not wish to become known as a clearing-house of sports grievances, but, we would like to take a moment to scrutinize the grid-iron attire worn by some of the teams represented in the NFL post-season this year. And we would like to direct readers interested in this subject to Uniwatch, a column writen by Paul Lukas for ESPN. Lukas is the Bob Woodward of this field. Our aim is simply to broach the subject and briefly offer our own observations.
This playoff crop presents us with a stark contrast in uniform styles. It will be our thesis that in this clothing contrast, we can divine valuable historical lessons that go far beyond simple fashion sense. Lessons such as: Stop The Expansion Of Sports Leagues, or, The Color Teal Does Not Instill People With A Killer Instinct Or Inspire Fear In Their Opponents, or even, How About Naming A Stadium After A Team Or A Place For A Change?
But, alas. The truth nowadays in all sports, not just football, is that nearly all are blind to these lessons. Teams must have as many uniform sets and/or combinations as possible. They can then sell more of a wider array of merchandise, and take pity on some evidently down on their luck designers whose previous job seems to have been asbestos abatement or some other equally unqualifying factor.
Have a look at the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. They wear these brownish-gold-grayish pants with red stripes, and helmets of the same hideous hue. Who came up with this color? What is it? Look fans, here come your Bucs! Three cheers for the Red, White, and uh, Umber! The crowd goes wild! What was wrong with the Bucs’ old uniforms? They were classic and simple. The old "Bucco Bruce" logo was very smooth and even cunning. The new helmet design looks like an Iron Maiden album cover.
Witness the Jacksonville Jaguars. But be advised that this photo represents only one of the approximately 36 ensembles that the Jags don on any given Sunday. Do the fans up in the bleachers find themselves squinting down at the grid-iron asking, “Are we in the right place? Are those our Jags? Last week they wore white jerseys. The week before that, black. Now it seems they are wearing....teal”
Yes, the Jaguar jersey is teal. Things were teal in 1987, and for no good reason. When their kickoff team is on the field it looks like a fleet of Geo Storms. Rather than pick one of the countless shades of green or blue for their jerseys, the Jaguars decided to combine them all to form teal like they were in third grade art class.
The Seattle Seahawks actually use a fluorescent color in their uniform.
And, the coup de grâce. TBA did some growing up just outside of Cincinnati and remembers when the Bengals wore this uniform. We ask our readers: What is wrong with that? And we searchingly challenge them: Who among you think this is better? We are willing to bet that there are none. These things look like some carnival freak swallowed a bunch of Swatch watches and then vomited all over the set of early 90's after school television mainstay Saved By The Bell.
In closing, notice, in stark contrast to the offenders above, the garb of the other playoff contenders. Team like the Colts or the Bears. Their uniforms are tasteful and indeed even historical; one could watch a football game involving these teams with grandpa, and everybody would know they were watching the same team; they would all feel connected to the team and thus to the game itself. And forgive us for getting all misty-eyed, but, teams with the new styles of uniforms that we see above lack that resonance that connects generations and inspires us to share our memories with each other. This connection with the past is the best hope that sports, or anything else, for that matter, has for any kind of meaningful future.