Sport Aesthetics: The Kit

Sport is primarily a visual medium, and as such, sport production values should be placed alongside film and print and attended to with care and discretion. The Academy Awards rate and reward great work in costume and set design because how the actors look and where they act are important to the experience. Gotham City must be dark, and Batman cannot have nipples. The MLS policy that encourages the development and use of new (and ugly) kits every couple years, to me, indicates a lack of this understanding; a lack of care for a team’s legacy and identity. Certainly, jersey sales account for significant income for the teams and a new kit will sell better than an old one, but when this comes at the expense of class and custom, more is lost than gained. Case in point: the Sounders FC new third kit below. This kit causes eye strain. This kit is not going to be enjoyable to watch. People smirk when they see it. A kit should never be a distraction.

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I have an emotional connection with my beloved team’s kit. My mental replays of goals and tackles and saves are dressed in that shade of green and blue. My memories of this kit should not be how bad I felt for the players who had to wear a Skittles package. The Lakers haven’t significantly changed their kit and logo since the 1960s. The legacy of that highly esteemed franchise is classy, not insecure and hokey like the Warriors who incidentally have changed their logo/kit six times in the same period. We voted against those trivial names they offered us–Alliance and Republic if I recall–because they had no meaning, no history. If the Seattle Alliance had orange kits there would have been a few thousand less fans on opening day. (It seems the MLS is learning that a fresh start for a club and city is not necessarily best; Portland was allowed to use the Timbers name straightaway). When a new player sits down for their first interview they almost always remark on their new surroundings, the city, and the legacy of the club. I am emotionally joined with our new starting striker the moment he dons the green and blue scarf and the flashbulbs pop. I love that shit. I have no idea what team Mauro is playing for here, but I am sure they are cheap and sucky.

An attention to aesthetic is not only for the kit, but the field, the stands, the scoreboard, the graphics, the advertisements, which all serve the beautiful experience of the beautiful game. When a team plays on an NFL branded pitch, it looks wrong. When Sigi is wearing a sweatsuit to a match, I wonder what he makes a season. When the team hands out 10,000 inflatable noise-makers, I wonder if we know how to cheer. The NBA has rules about the players’ attire when they walk from the bus to the locker room. They look classy and expensive, not like junior highers. The NBA understands this (too bad they have little sense of game flow experience as seen in the obnoxious scoreboard cheer-leading the Sonics were dropping between every possession change). Now, before I err in the direction of draconian measures, I put equal expectation on Sigi to look good. Just because the league doesn’t enforce attire doesn’t mean he shouldn’t want to appear professional. And credit the Sounders organization for acknowledging the gaff with those damn noise-makers, and letting us write-in “Sounders” for the name, and moving the marching band.

I’ll get over this Super-Cyan kit; it will only be used a dozen or so times ever. But here’s to hoping for great design and great experience for the beautiful game. (This matter of sport aesthetic interests me; perhaps I’ll do a few more posts).

Recording life.

George Clooney in this NPR Interview makes the case for shaking Brad Pitt’s hand instead of taking a picture of it.

SNL makes the case for keeping your head out of your own ass.

A friend was tweeting every three minutes over sushi and I felt bad asking him to stop. Maybe I won’t feel bad. May the cultural shift begin.

The Lord is for my body.

A bit of film from inside the upcoming art installation, Body Orthodoxy: A Sensual Education. Song by me and Tara; track one on the next record from The Opiate Mass.

Jan 26-29 | 17:30-20:30
1172 Republican St

Everything ever completely gone and something about lamenting.

God is the being capable of erasing the entire existence of everything ever in a single moment–no, it wouldn’t even take a moment. No one would even know it happened. It wouldn’t even happen. Everything gone, including the idea of everything, including the idea of gone, including ideas, including including. There would be nothing but God to observe to God that there was once something else. (Why bother). It is a most terrifyingly awesome thought. How about humans: sometimes we split atoms and incinerate cities. That is the best we have.

When my friends lost their baby the week we were all expecting him, my deepest and purest thought was to God and went a bit like this: tell us why you created this world the way you did, you idiot. I think this was a genuine lament. Christianity says that God welcomes laments, that God empathizes and in some way acts. I’ve become far too cavalier in my laments if I believe this. I’ll never know the answer to why, and I’ll never not want the answer to why. As soon as I say I’ll have it in Heaven then I’ve got an answer that buys me time and hey, why are you lamenting if you’ll have the answers in a few decades. What a silly game.

Henceforth: I think my lamenting should have a small sense that I could be in deep shit for telling God I think everything is wrong.

The pill is hard to swallow.

Once again I am in awe of my friend Bryan Free. His latest album, Red Queen, is staggeringly difficult to understand. If I think I like great music then I know I have to put in the time. My first few listens went down like stroganoff, the kind with mushrooms and onions and Russian detritus. I suspect the sales for this album will be poor. Too bad.

On commercial use of your lovely song.

Maybe they should sell their songs to Coke, so we don’t have to endure these ridiculous knock-offs.

Drive (5/5)

Paced, quiet, elegant. They make film-making look easy.

I cannot love this artist any more…

…than I already do.

Oh, I don’t own a TV.

I used to be a smugly about not owning a TV, well now I do and I love it. A gorgeous 32″ 1080p wi-fi enabled TV. It is my favorite form of entertainment and it makes my life better. I don’t read very much and I write these helpful blog posts.

Pineapple Express (3/5)

Franco, stoned in this and every other scene, pokes his hitchhiking thumb through his zipper and exclaims: “hey look, it’s like my thumb is my cock”. That’s funny.

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