Not about dogfighting
Ah, fall. So full of promise. Each year the 32 teams of the National Football League line up in roughly the first full weekend of September, each with 0 wins and 0 losses, and commence a 17-week odyssey (16 games with one bye week) to determine who is greatest in all the land. At stake: one of twelve precious playoff berths, 6 per conference, and an opportunity to play in the Super Bowl, the nexus where America's consumer culture, love of spectacle, and passion for sport collide in a bloody spray of...Prince. (There's also a football game somewhere in there, I assure you. Well, maybe not.)
Football is appealing for many reasons, but one is so mindblowingly obvious, that it towers above the rest: each team only plays once a week. So, in order to consider yourself a good football fan, you only have to watch...one...game...per...week. And guess what else? They're almost always on Sunday. Are you telling me that you don't have three and half hours to kill on a lazy autumnal Sunday? OF COURSE YOU DON'T: YOU'RE WATCHING FOOTBALL.
Sure, there's Monday Night Football, and the occasional Thursday game (excluding Thanksgiving, which is a football free-fire zone), but you know what? Those games are for the harder-core football consumer - a consumer whose abundance relative to hard-core fans of other pro sports can be directly attributable to a) the relative paucity of pro-football games, and b) the fact that a high proportion of football games are actually meaningful. Take me, for example: I consider myself to be a relatively ardent football fan. I also consider myself to be a relatively hard core Mets fan. Over the course of this season, the New York Jets, my NFL team of choice, will play the aforementioned 16 game schedule; I guarantee that I will watch at least 14 of these contests in their entirety, give or take the occasional unavoidable prior obligation. This season, the Mets have played roughly 130 games out of 162; I have watched roughly 30 games in their entirety, and have caught extended bits on TV or radio of maybe another 60 or 70 games.
These numbers may not be that striking, but consider this: I guarantee that outside of contests featuring the Jets, I will watch roughly 13 or 14 of the Sunday Night Football games broadcast on NBC, most of another 13 or 14 Monday Night games on ESPN, a further 7 or 8 complete Giants games, and handful of Thursday and Saturday contest featuring neither the Jets nor the Giants. So far this year, I have caught most of 6 or 7 Yankee games, and maybe one or two extended bits of games featuring neither the Yankees or the Mets.
Look, I'm not a prognosticator by any stretch of the imagination; I certainly didn't predict a 10-6 season with a playoff berth for the Jets in Eric Mangini's first season as coach, and nor did I predict the New Orleans Saints' amazing 2006 turnaround, giving them the first playoff bye in team history. If you want prognostication, analysis, a good deal of informative digression, and a fantastic sense of humor, check out Brookings Institution-fellow Gregg Easterbrook's weekly Tuesday Morning Quarterback column for ESPN.com - if you are remotely a football fan, it is the best half an hour you can spend at work during the season.
No, my pre-season ritual is sartorial. Each year I like to check out the new fashions placed up for sale by the NFL, which maintains a pretty limited product design scheme, reinforced by its ongoing exclusivity deal with Reebok. Usually I buy one new piece of Jet-wear per season, renewing the eternal commercial bond between man and franchise; last year was the first time in a while I declined to do so, a fact I blame on an increasingly outlandish design philosophy. Hopefully this year the NFL and Reebok can turn things around so I can give them another $30 or so.
The Hats:
Ugh. See, the problem here is that most NFL fan-wear looks like it was designed with 10 year-old boys in mind. Understatement is not a prized commodity: check out the ridiculous inclusion of a Jets wordmark on the cap's visor. Totally superfluous considering the fact that "NY JETS" is prominently displayed on the cap's crown, right? Also, the two white hashmarks at the temple - what for? Bleccch.
Egads. Back when I was a wee lad, I had a pair of Zubaz pants. They are days that I care not to relive in any sense, let alone with a hat that screams "I'm behind on child support." Note, though, the inclusion of one of the more promising developments in recent Jets design history: the NY-in-oval mark. Some Jersey partisans don't like this, because they see it as a continued encroachment of a New York centric-ethos on our state's resident football teams. A couple of years ago, to great local consternation, the Giants switched their primary logo from this to this, reversing a uniform trend towards enforced vagueness to make us Jersey (and...uh...Connecticut) fans feel at home. The Jets changed their uniforms in 1998 from the ol' Jolly Greens to a more retro, and welcome, Namath-era design, adding an NY to the primary logo but maintaining the prominence of the "Jets" wordmark. The NY-in-oval so far has no place on the uniform (although one wonders what would have happened if the West Side Manhattan stadium deal went through); I think it looks pretty sharp, giving the organization a bit of well-deserved flair.
o-for-3. Again with the logos. The solid-crown/solid-bill combination is always a winner, but the front of the crown is far, far too busy, with not only the Jets' primary logo, but a Jets wordmark, and beneath that "football", as if there could be some confusion as to what sport the hat refers to. On the back velcro closure, we learn that the Jets play in the AFC East ("Oh, really doctor?"). The only welcome development here is the unheralded return of a simple NFL shield in place of the case-study-in-branding-overkill "Equipment NFL" shield, introduced by the league to demarcate official sideline gear, which is basically everything Reebok hawks.
Ladies, this is no way to gain respect.
The Shirts
Now, I once had a totally awesome Jets t-shirt from the 1999 season, following 1998's 12-4 regular season performance that ended with a crushing defeat in the AFC Championship game. (Fuck John Elway.) It had a Jets logo on the front, and on the back simply said "START OVER." Man, I loved that shirt. This shirt, on the other hand, is a complete assfest, meant to bilk stockbrokers out of twenty bucks over the esoterica convention that is the NFL Draft. Forewarned is forearmed.
Gridiron Crown T-shirt
Hmm. I like the concept: football helmet, words, we out. But...I mean, I'm all for improved safety, but the use of the new, more reptillian, more protective vented helmets...not so good on a t-shirt. It just looks odd, and it really turns me off to what would otherwise be a perfectly acceptable piece of Sunday afternoon couchwear. C+.
The Sweatshirt...s
Classic Hooded Fleece
The best of a weak field. The coloration bothers me - looks kind of like the toothpaste green the Philadelphia Eagles favor, more than the robust dark green of my beloved Jets. I like the simple lettering though, and I strongly approve of the use of the old-timey passenger jet logo - very tasteful. Overall, you really can't beat the sweatshirt for football season utility. It's gonna be chilly come October and November, so you aren't going to be wearing that t-shirt outside too much, are ya? The only really sticking point with this baby is the premium price tag: $69.99. Ouch.
Hmm. I like the concept: football helmet, words, we out. But...I mean, I'm all for improved safety, but the use of the new, more reptillian, more protective vented helmets...not so good on a t-shirt. It just looks odd, and it really turns me off to what would otherwise be a perfectly acceptable piece of Sunday afternoon couchwear. C+.
The Sweatshirt...s
The best of a weak field. The coloration bothers me - looks kind of like the toothpaste green the Philadelphia Eagles favor, more than the robust dark green of my beloved Jets. I like the simple lettering though, and I strongly approve of the use of the old-timey passenger jet logo - very tasteful. Overall, you really can't beat the sweatshirt for football season utility. It's gonna be chilly come October and November, so you aren't going to be wearing that t-shirt outside too much, are ya? The only really sticking point with this baby is the premium price tag: $69.99. Ouch.
