by Blake Bennett, Staff Writer, All Habs Hockey Magazine

TORONTO, ON–Advertising on NHL jerseys. For the majority of fans, it’s sacrilege. It’s unacceptable; it’s a crass cash grab that robs the teams of the identity that their fans hold close to their hearts. It’s also, apparently, happening and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

TSN’s Rick Westhead has reported that the NHL stands to garner an extra $120 million in revenue from advertising on jerseys. Of course there’s no surprise that this number makes the league brass sit up straight and put aside romantic notions of ‘team branding’ and ‘sentimental value’. But on top of the advertisements promised and the resultant income, the Adidas deal also gives the company huge leverage to “aggressive[ly] push… to make the NHL jerseys identifiable with their brand,” meaning that there’s a chance that all 30 teams’ uniform design will fall from their organizations’ respective control.

For us Habs fans, this should be sending chills up our collective spine. Not only will the gloriously consistent sweater be potentially cluttered with extraneous logos and wordmarks, but the foundations of its design could be compromised by designer allegiance to the Adidas brand, and not to the history of the club. For years the Habs’ uniform philosophy has been rock-steady: it ain’t broke, so don’t fix it. This summer saw the largest changes to the uniform in years—and it’s the addition of a lace-up collar and a return to the old, thick white collar from the golden years of the 40’s to the 70’s. In other words, the biggest change in years is hardly a change at all. And why would they bother? It’s the epitome of classic. So classic that the new design has been marketed as “a new classic.” Even when it’s new, it’s classic! I’m going to stop using the word ‘classic’ now. But depending on your definition of what constitutes the ‘same jersey design’, one could argue that the Habs jersey hasn’t really changed in… ever.  The CH on a blue stripe on a red jersey is older than the league itself.

What this whole Adidas deal reminds me of was the Nike deal to design the 2014 Sochi Olympic jerseys for every country. The results were varied, with some impressive designs like Russia’s kit. But by and large, the philosophy was largely constrained by efforts to make the jerseys resemble the national flags more or less directly. Finland and the Czech Republic were the most egregious examples of this boardroom idea that failed to transition well from paper to sweater: they looked as though their sweaters were repurposed directly from the flagpole. Other failures were the uncanny similarity between the Slovakian and American jerseys, whose white jerseys were indistinguishable on television. The entire suite of jerseys were run through with kitschy, gimmicky bits to add some degree of national uniqueness, but this almost unilaterally took the form of near-transparent glossy prints around the shoulder yokes of ‘national symbols’: maple leaves for Canada, stars for the USA, eagle wings for Russia, Viking longships for Sweden… but when nearly every jersey has a feature of this sort, it doesn’t create an identity for anybody but Nike themselves. Not to even mention that these features were completely invisible to anybody not standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a player.

Which all is completely fine; the Olympic hockey tournament is two weeks every four years, and the designs will change again (except for Sweden, who put their foot down to all but the most minor of Nike’s choices).  One year of ugly sweaters on the podium isn’t an issue to anyone. But the prospect of having such a boardroom-style brainstorm ‘unifying’ the jerseys across the entire NHL is alarming to be sure. The Nike jerseys all look like they came from the exact same drafting table, and, to be honest, they probably did to some degree. But since instituting the third jersey program, the NHL has allowed teams to experiment among themselves and their fanbases with new directions for team identity; sure, this results in the occasional laughing stock like the Islanders’ infamous ‘Fishsticks’ debacle, or any of Buffalo’s recent attempts.

But the ability to try out new looks without scrapping the old faithfuls outright has allowed teams to test the waters and see how their fanbase responds. Montreal has had no use for the program, but more than that of any other team, their fanbase gets to see opposing teams play against them in retro-style throwback thirds due to the great old-time feel the matchup gives. Relinquishing control of every team’s appearance to them puts Adidas under the criticism of thirty team’s fanbases, which, very quickly, will become just so much white noise. When Tampa Bay rebranded themselves from the black-dominated uniform into the royal blue they currently don, they responded to fans who wanted the lightning bolts back on the pants and did so. I have a nagging doubt that such criticisms will be given any such credence by the central-planning committee Adidas assigns to the NHL, even from a fanbase as passionate, devoted, and widespread as that of the Montreal Canadiens.

Which brings me back to advertising. The overwhelming reaction of the fans has been negative to the prospect of ads on their beloved jerseys, but the sense coming from the League is that this is to be expected, weathered out, and eventually the uproar will dissipate as the fans ‘get used to it.’ More so than any other major North American sport, the hockey uniform, from helmet to socks, has the most canvas space and places a logo front and centre on the chest; the saying “it isn’t the name on the back, but the logo on the front” applies best to the sport. Basketball and football jerseys give lots of space on the chest to the player’s number. Baseball jerseys, being buttoned down the middle, work best with a wordmark-style logo on the chest, reserving the cap for the club’s crest.  But in the NHL, it’s all about that big crest surrounded by the team colours and sharp striping.

But that big crest is going to have to make some room as Red Bull, Wonderbread, Tim Hortons, and who knows who else get their clashing brands competing for space with the CH. And by all accounts, it’ll be in place by the 2017-18 season.

So enjoy the next two seasons, everyone; they may be the last aesthetically-pleasing ones we’ll get. Maybe I’m being overdramatic, though. I’ve been told I’ll get used to it.

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