It’s time for my favorite sport, football—“American” football, that is, specifically the NFL. Every year, sportswriters kill a lot of trees analyzing each team, player, and coach; reporting training-camp traumas; analyzing meaningless pre-season games; and making predictions (which almost always wrong) about the season and the playoffs. 

While I love football, I quickly get tired of all that tripe. So I thought I’d discuss something fun: helmet designs among the NFL teams. No, not how the helmets are made—what does this look like, an engineering website? Instead, I'll discuss how each team’s helmet looks. Some are great, some are okay, some need to be improved, and some—well, you’ll see.

What about uniforms? I'll leave that to Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: the NFL Episode. Buckle up your chinstraps, folks!
 

Don’t Ever Change: Classics That Will Never Die
First off, let’s address teams with helmet designs that no one should ever, ever change. This is not to say that all of these helmets are the most visually appealing: what does one call that god-awful shade of yellow on the Packers’ helmets, anyway? But whether they’re really snazzy or not, these helmets have tradition and  character.

Buffalo Bills. The current design was first used in 1984, but it just screams “1990’s” to me. In a good way, of course. 

Chicago Bears. When the Texans' helmet grows up, it will want to be this one. 

Cincinnati Bengals. Before 1980, the Bengals did not have stripes on their helmets. No, I don’t understand that, either. Seems like it would be an obvious design they would have gone with from Day One. But then, the Bengals are famous for doing things wrong.

Cleveland Browns. “They’re the ‘Browns,’” you say. “Why are their helmets orange?” I don’t know, either. “Yeah, but those helmets are ugly,” you say. Sure they are. But then, so are most Browns fans. 

Dallas Cowboys. Given the choice of saying something nice about Dallas or having a rat gnaw out my innards, I flipped a coin. 

The star is cool. 

Gawddddddddddddddd, that hurts like hell, anyway. 

Detroit Lions. The “lion rampant” design dates back to 1960. Detroit’s been waiting since before then to win another championship. A whole generation of Lions fans has died waiting for them to be winners again. And there but for the grace of God go most of us (except the Browns and Cardinals fans). 

Green Bay Packers. Some kids ask why there are wars, some kids ask what heaven looks like, some kids ask, “If they’re from Green Bay, why aren’t their helmets green?” In each case, the only honest answer is, “I don’t know.” 

Indianapolis Colts. Could be cooler. Probably should be cooler. But then, the Colts should be in Baltimore.

Kansas City Chiefs. Maybe it’s because I’ve never lived in the Midwest, but I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Kansas City, Missouri really does have a football team and that millions of people really are fans. It’s like hearing that Wilmington, Delaware has an NFL team: “Whaaaaaaaaaat?”

New Orleans Saints. You're expecting some kind of comment here about the fleur-de-lis being French, aren't you? Well, forget it. Maybe if this was 2003. But it’s 2006, and though it pains me to admit it, maybe the French knew best, you know? 

Pittsburgh Steelers. Even if—God forbid—you don’t like the Steelers, you must admit that the emblem on just one side is really damn cool.

San Diego Chargers and San Francisco 49ers. The Super Bowl between San Diego and San Francisco was the first—and thus far, only—Super Bowl where both teams were from California. I have waited years—YEARS, I tell you—to say that, and no one finds that interesting. 
 

A Change Would Do You Good: Oldies But Not Goodies
Our second category is old helmet designs that maybe were cool once upon a time, but now look lame. 

Miami Dolphins. As you can see, the dolphin on the Dolphins’ helmet is wearing its own little helmet, with a little orange “M” on it. Instead of the “M,” shouldn’t that helmet also have a little dolphin on it, which should also be wearing a little helmet, with another little dolphin on THAT helmet, ad infinitum? That’s just too trippy for me to think about. How about if we just get rid of the damn helmet on Flipper, eh?

New York Jets. Some things are “classics.” Some things are just “old.” Guess which one this is. 

New York Giants. I can’t decide which is more dull: the “NY” on the current helmets or the “GIANTS” that they used to have. How about just a plain blue helmet, without any logo? It works for the Browns. I said I wasn’t going to discuss uniforms, but I must ask: what’s with those god-awful gray pants they’ve been wearing the last few years? Those put the “fug” in “m’fugly.”

Oakland Raiders. Dear Al Davis: thanks to Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom, pirates are cool again. Why not take advantage of that and stir up some interest in your sucky team by going for a new look? As team owner, it’s up to you to find a better design. You can start by getting rid of the ancient and lame current logo, with the guy wearing an eyepatch and a football helmet. 

What to replace it with? I don’t know, Al. It’s a shame that Tampa Bay snagged the “Jolly Roger” for its helmets…hey! Why don’t you just sue the Bucs over it? You need to get back at them for taking Gruden and kicking your guy’s butts in the Super Bowl a few years ago. It’s not like you haven’t sued anyone whenever there’s been a buck to be made or just because you’re feeling pissy. Hopefully, all this—the helmet re-design, the litigation—should distract you from your current hobby of ruining a once-great team. 

Minnesota Vikings, Philadelphia Eagles, St. Louis Rams. These teams have tried to adjust the looks of their helmets, but no matter what they do, the helmets still just scream “1970’s.” The horns coming out the side of the Viking helmet are too silly for mere words: use the pic of the Viking instead. The wings coming off the front of the Eagles helmet are too silly for mere words: use the pic of the eagle instead. And for God’s sake, get rid of those ridiculous ram horns on the St. Louis helmet and just use the ram logo. There, was that so hard?
 

That’s the Way to Do It: “New” Looks That Look Good
Some teams have “recently” (within the past 15 years or so) changed the look of their helmets, for the better. Looking back on the old ones, you wonder why they didn’t change sooner. 

Atlanta Falcons. The Falcons used to have red helmets with a black falcon image (which was okay), then black helmets with a black falcon (which sucked) and, since 2003, black helmets with a red falcon. Why did reversing the color scheme take so long? 

Carolina Panthers. Technically, the Panthers never had an “old” look, because they came into the league in 1995, but work with me here. The coolest part about the Panther logo is how it was designed to look like the combined borders of North and South Carolina. If you didn’t know that, you can drop that fact the next time you’re at the sports bar trying to impress some cute chick. If she rolls her eyes and says, “Whatever,” move on: she is not the girl for you. 

Denver Broncos. Mere coincidence that once the Broncos rid themselves of the big orange “D” with the horse, they won two Super Bowls? I think not. But on the old logo: what were those two little squiggles on the side of the horse supposed to be? Muscles? Ribs? The outline of a front leg? I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s gone. 

Jacksonville Jaguars. Like the Panthers, the Jags came into the league in 1995 with a cool look. I’m not quite sure what color the tongue is supposed to be: turquoise? Teal? Ask a cute chick at the sports bar. If she answers “I don’t know,” move on: she is not the girl for you. If she tells you it’s teal and that teal was originally going to be the color of the Jags’ helmets before the Panthers’ organization pitched a fit about using the color, marry this goddess on the spot. 

Seattle Seahawks. While the Hawks helmets aren’t vastly different from how they used to be before 2001, they’re still a big improvement. If I were going to change the look, I would suggest replacing the hawk head (done in that way-cool totem-pole style) with an image of head coach Mike Holmgren in a diaper, crying about the refs in Super Bowl XL when it was his idiot play-calling and clock management that cost him the game. 

Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Like the Broncos, they ditched a lame look and won the Super Bowl. And how cool was it that two pirate-themed teams (the Bucs and the Raiders) played each other in that game? Lit majors like me live for that stuff. But the helmet itself: what color is that, really? Gray? Pewter? Mud? Not even Crayola knows. 
 

What Were They Thinking? “New” Looks That Suck
If you can, wrap your head around this: grown-ups got paid serious money to come up with these crappy designs.

Baltimore Ravens. “B” is for “Baltimore.” “B” is for “birdhead.” “B” is for “boring.” “B” is for “bad.”

Houston Texans. This design is like the team itself: nice try, but just doesn’t have a prayer of winning. Not any of the cute chicks in any of the sports bars in the world can tell you what the color of that helmet is supposed to be: black? Really, really, really dark blue? I don’t know, either. And why not just go with the flag of Texas? Why use that cow head—are they the Longhorns? There’s already a Texas team with that name. 

New England Patriots. What you have: this weirdly elongated face on the helmet. What you need: the "Betsy Ross" flag. Simple. Classic. And you can still keep the silver. There, was that so hard?

Tennessee Titans. Kids, if your English teacher ever asks you for an example of “damning with faint praise,” hold up a picture of this helmet and say, “Well, the white part looks nice.” 
 

Start Over: Needs New Name and New Look
You can call it “going in a new direction” if it makes your ego feel better, but sometimes you just gotta quit doing the dumb stuff you’ve been doing. 

Arizona Cardinals. Once upon a time, this team was the St. Louis Cardinals, but that was before they moved to Arizona. While there are cardinals in Arizona, there are also rattlesnakes, coral snakes, scorpions, tarantulas, wild pigs, vultures—in short, all kinds of local critters that are much, much more intimidating than cardinals. Pick one and go for a new design to go with that new stadium. No one sweats little red birds. 

Washington Redskins. Dear Dan Snyder: you’ve looked at this “redskins” name thing in the wrong way. For years, you’ve ignored the people who say the name is offensive and should be changed. Dan, Dan, Dan—I’m surprised that a cunning marketing guy like you has overlooked the obvious. Maybe “redskins” is offensive, maybe it isn’t—supposedly, there’s a poll out there that says 80% of Native Americans do NOT believe that the name “Washington Redskins” is offensive. None of that matters. What matters is that by changing the name, you can make a killing and finally get yourself some good PR.

Think about it. If you announce that the name will be changed, millions of people will rush out and buy up any merchandise that has “Redskins” on it: most of them will be fans wanting to keep stuff that has the name, the rest will be folks looking to re-sell it on e-Bay. Heck, you can sell stuff—t-shirts, jerseys, posters, whatever—dedicated to the retiring of the “Redskins” name. You’ll get all kinds of publicity: some media folks will scold you for “caving to the liberal elite” and “ending years of tradition,” some will praise you for “doing the right thing.” Others will realize what it really is: a cynical ploy to get more money as all the old “Skins” stuff flies off the shelves and your wallet gets fatter. 

Once the old name has been “retired,” you announce a contest for people to send in new names and designs. You winnow down the entries to a few choices—let’s say four. You then announce that for one season, the team will use the four entries for four games each, so people can see the new looks on the field and consider the new proposed names. Heck, you even sell stuff—sweatshirts, toys, bumper stickers, whatever—dedicated to the four designs. You set up hotlines where people can vote for their favorite. Some media types will continue to whine that you’re just exploiting the fans—duh! Nothing they say will stop the “re-design” stuff and the hotlines from putting more money in your pocket.

At the end of the season, you announce the winning design. You don’t need to pay the winner any substantial bucks: give him an official NFL football signed by Joe Gibbs and/or some other autographed memorabilia—hell, that’s all the guy who designed the Raven’s original “shield” logo wanted. Then, of course, everyone and his brother runs out to buy the stuff with the new name and design. Think of all the crap that currently has “Redskins” on it: jerseys, t-shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, posters, toys, bumper stickers, books, videos, keychains, underwear, hats, helmets, stationary—my God, man, the list is endless! 

But you need not stop there. You can partner with other vendors to promote the new name. Think of the slogans: “Coca-Cola and The Washington [insert new name here]: a new winning tradition.” “Ford and the Washington [insert new name here]: driven to victory.” Think of the possibilities! 

You might ask, “Sounds good, but what if all this ‘New Cokes’ on me?” Dan, Dan, Dan: this football team is a money-making machine—you could put their name on monkey poop and it would sell. Worse comes to worst, you scrap the new design and go back to that proven cash-maker, “Redskins.” And if anyone in the press gives you grief about it…well, you’re probably used to that, already. I mean honestly, can your publicity get any worse than it is now? 

I’m telling you, it’s win-win-win: the fans get a bunch of new merchandise, the media gets months of material, and you get more millions. And who knows? Soon after the Broncos and the Bucs changed their looks, they won Super Bowls: why not the Washington [insert new name here]?
 

Posted September 2006