“Sports Jerseys: To wear another (wo)man’s name on your back is a subconscious slap in the face to who you are. Don’t fantasize about being someone else. Put in the work required to rise to the level of your greatest self.” - Steve Maraboli
So... from time to time and ever so many months at a time, I love dipping my toes in that strange and eclectic pool of used items perusing old vintage futbol jerseys and jackets on ebay to see what's out there- for those teams that I do support albeit having all too many players that I'd like to follow if only I had more time. With an emphasis on finding MORE...and looking for it, I've also the UTMOST respect for time capsules, team and time-ridden memorabilia, and that of a beautiful jersey- whether vintage, freshly washed and to-be-worn, or one handed to you upon joining a new team. Learning to earn your stripes and sport them is just as great a privilege and honor as wearing the shield and stripes of any one team and clearly something to be taken quite seriously. But there's also the nostalgia too.
Be your stripes black and white, straight and trite, or bent and nimble, the beauty is expansive- and I've always been attracted to stripes- be those the glorious of a zebra, today's scalding daily review that might better justify whatever colors and jersey you sport, or "die marke mit den drei streifen" that seems to have monopolized the majority of my futbol gear. Reminiscent of venetian blinds, and the open and close or stop and go of our days, our stripes are somewhere between a yes or no, north and south, shadows and light- and even carry with them a jail cell costume severity that makes you appreciate and perhaps question the momentous feats and defeats of earning your stripes and wearing a jersey seem all the realer. The stripes are reminiscent of your athletic tallying, and the games you've triumphantly fought for paired with the destitution of those very hard losses. They represent and display the great divide of experience.
DID you know that "Jersey is the largest of the Channel Islands, between England and France?. A self-governing dependency of the United Kingdom, with a mix of British and French cultures, it’s known for its beaches, cliffside walking trails, inland valleys and historic castles. The Jersey War Tunnels complex, in a former hospital excavated by slave labor, documents the island’s 5-year German occupation during WWII". ( a la Google ) But Jersey also represents the space between the stripes- that channel of energy, and the channeling of that potential win or loss. There is even a reference of a place called Jersey than our most local version of that very shore. You can google search it- but has an origin..
OTHERWISE the material sense of "jersey" is also a household comfort that is typically soft and stretchy, and was originally made of wool. But these days it's typically cotton and often combined with other synthetic fibers. While jersey has monopolized the art of stay-at-home lounging, those hyggebuskers, and even those ambiguous multi-purpose 24/7 pajamas, those that HAVE worn a :formal jersey, know the duress and pressure of carrying your team's torch, to stretch those mental rubber bands as much as those fibers of your team jersey that nowadays are sweat-wicking and keep you dry-fit. Crusted with sweat and potentially lined with shitty weather / opponent conditions- or the depth of one's cell and paying one's dues over at Rikers Island, there's always a layer of respect and responsibility that comes with sporting stripes and jerseys: a synonymously mind-boggling and chest-pounding endeavor that makes you question your humanity, the strength of your heart, and what phylum you might associate yourself with in Kingdom Animalia or perhaps with the chest beating drum of thy kingdom- so that your own will might be done.
Yet for the love of that young whippersnapper's hat trick, the cunning mastermind play of the sage, and out of respect for the obvious dedication, devotion and demise of any aspiring athlete with their team, sure I"ll rock a team jersey, but nothing makes me happier than to see little half-pints donning THE numbered jersey of a very talented GREAT and their aspirations to be just as TALENTED. It's a noble duty to acquire a set of fancy boots and attempt a showdown on the field if not one's best, but wearing THE Jersey of a very famous / accomplished god-like superstar on my back would in speaking terms make me stutter; for I am simply not worthy. Dare I aspire to even be half that great? I might be a hopeless cause...and might have ended up being homeless had I ventured into becoming a professional female athlete, but it doesn't mean that I'm not at bay within that massive crow of fans...also screaming from the stands. That is yet- the other phenomenon of that wicked jersey, right?
Over the years, the peeling off and doting of many jerseys has made me think about that sense of team and the commitment we have to ours. It might entail the last minute rush to the laundromat to wash that jersey that's yet drenched in sweat and smells of last week's disappointing loss knowing you only have enough time to wash it and pray that it dries on the car seat, or on you and the pitch as you give it another fresh whirl with tooth and nail fighting loyalty and respect that motivates you to make every match your greatest priority. You would assume that everyone on your team holds the same level of accountability to each other, but in team sports, there's also just the honest jersey you're given, and it's okay if it's just a practice one, and requires you to grow into. But it's momentous, when you see professional teams swapping jerseys with their opponents after a hard fought battle of a championship final as they make blessed history.
Throughout all the rinse, wash, and repeat, you also realize that the older you get, the more distracted and less inclined many are to wholly committing themselves to their teams. Having worn jerseys for various teams that I've played for, or for a team I'm a fan of, albeit refraining from wearing the replica of any one god-like player, it's still that winter jersey we wore in high school circa '92-95 that has engrained stripes amidst my peripheral. All the swimming in those long-sleeved white jerseys with a tad too long red and white striped sleeves paired with blue shorts in 40F has engrained stripes across my memory. And when a few of the girls wore red snowhats, forget about it, the cheekiness of channeling the likes of Waldo was always a bit too tongue in cheek then and even now 25+ years later.
Your jersey is your towel, your sweatband, your internal guts, diehard spirit - and your shield of armor. The sweat and tete-a-tete between the two are just a whole other story on the battle field. When it runs out, we fizzle out, and we one by one drop our jerseys and towels. Are you seriously giving up already? But how can you just let your team down like that? In the name of a jersey, and your dedication or lack thereof to your team, you're not going to show up to the game? You're too busy, you don't feel like it, or what's your god damn excuse? Have you no shame and no loyalty to your team? It's the disappointment in players, teammates, and your team sometimes that makes you question your jersey, and why you choose to or perhaps hesitate to wear it.
As a player, wear your heart on your sleeve then, and your jersey close to your chest. Wear it like your coat of arms, second skin, whether you lose or win. Even as a die-hard fan, take stock, rock that jersey and support your beloved team and club as though you are their ONLY fan. (o:
“If Earth had a soccer team, everyone on Earth would wear the same jersey to support it. There’d be no them, there’d only be us.” - Peta Kelly
Comments