When Oregon unveiled their latest football uniforms for Thursday’s matchup against Cal, I’m sure a few of you were less than pleased. After all, the Ducks already have an insane amount of potential combinations and color schemes, and a new uniform seems like the last thing the team needs.
On top of that, you could say the new look is less than aesthetically pleasing. If you have yet to see a picture of the jersey, it features Oregon’s classic bright green as the primary color and a retro logo on the shoulder pads showing the head of Puddles, Oregon’s trusty and now-nationally famous mascot. Beyond that, however, the jersey is a bit of a muddled mess.
The look could be called a retro release (similar to what the Ducks wore against Cal in 2009), except the jersey utilizes the flashy and futuristic text and number fonts that have been characteristic of Oregon’s jerseys over the past few seasons. In essence, the uniform is an attempt to combine retro and cutting-edge elements to create — well, I’m not exactly sure. But it’s something we’ve definitely never seen before.
When I first saw the uniforms, one word popped into my mind: awkward. While media pundits and fans alike have frequently bashed Oregon’s jerseys during the past decade, many people have had to eat their words. In the past few seasons, more programs — most notably Boise State and Maryland — have piled on and adopted Oregon’s brash approach to football fashion.
But this particular jersey is something else. It has an Oregon slogan traditionally associated with the ’90s (Fighting Ducks) written in modern type on the front. It also has the number 2,790 stitched conspicuously on the inside collar. The significance? The figure represents the number of push-ups Puddles had to do last season to keep up with Oregon’s ruthlessly efficient offense.
So if the jersey is less-than-beautiful and lacks a unified theme, why has Oregon released it? One simple reason: branding. Nike is the master of this art, so it’s no coincidence that the alma mater of its founder should lead college football in creating a unique look. Whether you like the jersey or not, when you tune in to ESPN on Thursday night, it will be impossible to confuse Oregon with any other program in the country.
To be honest, Oregon’s jerseys have been a hit or miss over the years. Let’s be real — outside of Eugene, who wants to be seen rocking a Ducks jersey circa ’06, when the team appeared to have a steel grid sitting on its shoulders? Oregon’s head-to-toe neon yellow jerseys from the ’03 opener could be permanently destroyed as well. There have been several other questionable looks, but I’ll stop there.
The point is, the Ducks don’t care what you think about their taste. What’s essential to their look is that it sets Oregon apart from the rest of the country and gets people talking. Whether or not you like their new hybrid appearance, you probably have an opinion. And those feelings often end up on Twitter, Facebook or inserted into a water cooler conversation at work. And in the end, that’s all Phil Knight and the designers are aiming for. Maybe the look will catch on; maybe it won’t. But it will definitely get people talking about the Ducks, in person and electronically.
If Oregon is trying to lure recruits or just raise the profile of the University as a whole, different is better (NCAA infractions not included). The jerseys may be hard on the eyes, but the buzz they generate makes it well worth the while. So if you find yourself longing for a simpler look from the Ducks, keep the program’s long-term strategy in mind. Redirecting your eyes to the scoreboard may also help. Oregon’s eye-catching look has coincided with the most successful stretch in program history.