
Two seasons ago, the Syracuse football program decided to adopt a retro look and feel. The uniforms sported during the Dick MacPherson and Paul Pasqualoni eras were summarily replaced with apparel hearkening back to the days of legendary Orange coach Ben Schwartzwalder and All-Everything running back Jim Brown.
While generating a modicum of discontent, the new uniforms were fairly accepted amongst the Orange community. Nike may not have created a uniform that appealed a broad cross-section of Orange Nation, but it at least put together a reasonable effort.
Now, a mere 24 months later, Nike has set its all-encompassing marketing eyes on the storied tradition that is Syracuse basketball. Instead of merely making mild alterations to some of the classiest uniforms in all of college basketball, Nike has decided to outfit the Orange in apparel that is better suited for George Orwell's 1984 than Madison Square Garden's hallowed hardwood.
The issue with Nike's effort lies not with its attempt to create a uniform that better promotes athletic performance. Such as goal should actually be pursued by every athletic company. The issue, rather, is the means Nike chose to achieve its desired ends.
The obvious point of emphasis is the dichotomy between Nike's form fitting top and the clamdiggers that are posing as basketball trunks. With respect to the latter, I am unsure how free-flowing shorts are expected to promote athletic performance. With shorts that baggy, it seems as if the extra apparel would actually impede the ability to achieve desired performance rather than promote such goals.
In short, there is probably a reason that Jim Boeheim has not allowed his team to wear pajamas to practice. The same principle should apply to gameday attire.
With respect to the former end of the dichotomy lies the bottomless hilarity that is a form fitting top. Equal part "Space age cyborg muscle shirt" and "Let's go run the 100-meter dash in 10.0 seconds," Nike has not only crafted a tank top that questions its proper place in the sports and human universe, but has also created the impetus for endless conversations starting with the phrase, "Andy Rautins has the torso of a 15 year-old girl."
The biggest problem with the uniforms, however, is the utter lack of Syracuse blue. Embodying black, white, orange, and some weird combination of silver and light blue, the uniforms are devoid of the University's official complimentary color. At best, such an oversight smacks of marketing trumping tradition. At worst, the design team at Nike is colorblind, thus affirming the world's opinion that "Yes, those Oregon Ducks football uniforms must have been in error."
On a bright note, the new uniforms do hearken back to a somewhat forgotten era of Syracuse basketball. Back in the late 1970s when Jim Boeheim was running his charges up and down the floor in front of the Manley Zoo, Syracuse sported a series of checkered stripes along the seam of its jersey and shorts. As the above illustration indicates, Nike has co-opted the "Louie and Bouie" look and applied it to the new Orange outfits. Thus, while the checkered stripes look out of place on the Syracuse uniform, they are actually a callback to the foundation of the Jim Boeheim era.
Overall, Nike's "System of Dress" deserves not only a failing grade, but probably should be admonished by an act of Congress or a misguided jihadist in a grainy video aired on a forgettable Arab cable television network. Syracuse has had a hard enough time winning in its classic uniforms this season; adorning Demetris Nichols and Company in radically different apparel is probably not the remedy that Syracuse needs to cure its ills.
UPDATE: High resolution photographs of the Syracuse uniforms can be accessed here (home white) and here (road orange).




