Notes on a (semi) healthy addiction

When I was 11, I became addicted to sports jerseys. They were like polyester crack. The list of athletes I paid homage to was strange and varied. A few I remember: Shawn Kemp, Dan Marino,Sterling Sharpe, Ben Coates, Lou Roe and Grant Hill.

There were times my obsession cooled – I don’t remember asking my parents for a single jersey in high school, from 1997 to 2001. The malaise, however, didn’t last. I added to my collection in college, and after the 2006 World Cup, I got hooked on soccer jerseys. I picked up an England jersey that summer. My brother brought me home a gray and fluorescent green Real Madrid jersey from Spain. The Zinedine Zidane jersey I bought in a small shop in East Boston earned me a playful headbutt from a waiter at a bar in Brookline.

So really, it should come as no surprise that I was a bit too excited this week when Nike officially unveiled its line of World Cup away jerseys. Me being an addict and all, Nike’s riptide marketing sucked me in. The team U.S.A. jersey, which I first saw a mock up of a few months back, is a winner. Yes, the sash will make you look like Mayor Quimby, but it’s still a classic touch.























After all, the jerseys are modeled after the ones the Yanks wore when they beat England 1-0 in the 1950 World Cup. The navy blue and red trim also works.

Here’s my one quibble: the crest. I’m certainly not the first (or millionth) person to say this, but it’s a goddamn eyesore. The three stars and vertical stripes are fine. But the red “US” and shooting star soccer ball are two reasons why true footballing nations make fun of us. The ball is heading skyward.

England’s soccer crest is three lions, France’s is a rooster, and Portugal’s is a badass cross. Ours is...a goal kick? I believe it was Sports Illustrated’s Grant Wahl who once wrote that there’s nothing good that could come out of the trajectory of that ball. Get rid of it. Revamp it. Do something.

At $70 ($85 with a name and number) a pop, an American soccer jersey is an investment based on unrequited love. But let’s be honest, I’m still going to purchase a new away shirt (I’m afraid if I buy a home one, which is allegedly similar in design but white, I’ll spill barbecue sauce or Frank’s RedHot on it). The question is, should I get it blank? Admittedly, it is kind of pathetic sporting another grown man’s name and number on your back. But hell, I have no shame. I’m a jersey addict.