Adios Amigo, Our Jerseys Are Gone
LIFE: The man who taught me to write
It was the early 90s. I was a strange child. An introverted extrovert. A small, pudgy, yet athletic kid who loved people, but needed A LOT of alone time. On one side, I spent much of my days outside, playing basketball, shocking bigger kids with my handles and ability to score in the paint. On the other, I spend much of my days indoors, playing video games, reading a ton and not socializing.
It was during that latter part, that I met my solitary amigo. A person whose work will stick with me until I hit the dirt. His name was Zvonimir Magdić. Nicknamed “Amigo”, Zvonimir was the finest sports journalist Croatia had ever produced and one of the last true sporting romantics. He was also a painter, only he painted with words. He was hype impersonated, but the kind of hype that portrays sporting superstars in a way young kids see them, as larger than life.
From my little room, I spend hours digesting his columns about old football (soccer) superstars. It was through his words that the silhouettes of Nilton Santos, Pele, Garrincha, and Bajdo Vukas came to life. I saw them play, without seeing them play. I visualized the moves, the goals, their larger than life character. I didn’t need Youtube, I could teleport to the 1950s with Amigo as my vessel. This is how I learned sports history.
I dreamt that one day, if I could just paint a portion of that same picture to one awkward kid, I’d be a good writer. I could maybe spark a kid’s love for sports and storytelling just like my amigo did for me. He never knew it, but he helped shape everything I put on paper. Unfortunately, Zvonimir passed away in 2018 and I should have probably written this piece back then. Strangely, I had no words. Adios Amigo, it was a life well lived.
SPORTS: What happened to our jerseys?
No, seriously. What the hell happened? The color schemes, the poor quality stitching, the sky-high prices. It’s getting beyond ridiculous. Take the NBA as an example.
Dear readers, I give you exhibit A — the current Minnesota Timberwolves home and away jerseys. These look like they were designed by the most boring person in basketball. But then you look at the neon green alternate uniforms and figure out that the designer must have a split personality — one is boring, one has zero taste and a traffic light fetish. Remember the away KG/Starbury black unis with tree lines and that bad-ass wolf? That jersey alone made you terrified of the Big Ticket and crew.
Now we have this:
Come on.
And it’s not just basketball, either. Football’s (soccer) most iconic teams now feature low quality, similar looking jerseys with the only difference being the jersey color and logo. That’s it.
I own a “brown bear” Boston Bruins CCM hockey jersey that moths are afraid to get close to, let alone eat. This thing was a gift from my dad back in ‘95 (the first hockey thing I ever got) and, some 26 years later, it’s still in mint condition! Besides being borderline bulletproof, it looks amazing. The big B in front, stitched and wash proof, the bear on the shoulders ready to bite your head off — I still sometimes take it out and just admire the design. As far as I remember, the price wasn’t that steep, either. Granted, maybe that’s because I didn’t quite grasp the concept of value back then, but anyhoo.
Nowadays you have to pay a premium for all 3 types of quality jerseys and all of them have this shitty glued on lettering, poor stitching and won’t last one game/wash. And the design is shit.
For sports fans, their team’s jersey represents the most sacred physical connection to their team and their passion. They pass it on to generations to come, they watch games with their friends and celebrate championships wearing that same jersey. They play ball in that jersey (and hopefully wash it after). Sure, it is and always was a major revenue generator for teams, but at least before you got your money’s worth. Today, I’d much rather spend money on a Mitchell and Ness retro. At least it looks nice.
Dear Nike and Adidas — back in the 90s we had knock-offs that looked better and lasted longer than your jerseys do today. It’s about time you fixed it, because I ain’t buying it.
