Tony Sylvester indulges in a spot of sports kit-induced nostalgia while considering our new reversible Games Jacket.
It's increasingly hard not to be a grumpy old buffer these days. One tries to keep chipper in the face of modernity; to embrace, change and kid oneself that all this new-fangled stuff is ace. But, deep down, you know it's rubbish. This is especially true when it comes to sports kits. Stuck in the overly protectionist grip of a fair-to-middling public school in the mid ‘80s meant the ownership of a 'proper' games kit. We trotted out onto a muddy rugby pitch in garb that bared an uncanny resemblance to that worn in the sepia-toned portraits of XIs and XVs of yore staring down from the venerable walls. Thick cotton rugby shirts with herringbone plackets and rubber buttons; boots with screw in studs; shorts that could cut the circulation from the second row's thighs and 1/4 zip jersey sweatshirts cut short and wide. I don't miss those cold and wet Wednesday afternoons, but I sure as hell miss the clobber.