You've seen them, and you probably have an opinion on them.
Every so often, Ohio State opens a box from Nike and pulls out a new alternate uniform it'll wear for a game in the fall. Naturally, they lead to plenty of debate about whether the Buckeyes should rock them or pass on them in favor of only traditional looks.
We're here to settle those arguments.
Take: Alternate Uniforms Are A Good Thing For Ohio State
Kyle Jones: “I would definitely say uniforms matter to a recruit,” Jeff Okudah said before he and his teammates donned all-black duds against Michigan State last fall. “With this day and age, social media and all that, having different uniforms is a lure for recruits. Me being in high school, I always saw the black ones (the Buckeyes) wore against Penn State (in 2015), as really cool, as something I wanted to wear.”
For those that may have already forgotten, Okudah was a consensus first-team All-American last season. He helped Ohio State win football games. A lot of them, in fact.
My counterpart is going to tell you something about tradition and the #BRAND that is THE Ohio State University. He might even tell you that devaluing it with alternate uniforms could somehow lead to donors writing smaller checks, indirectly affecting the program’s ability to entice potential talent with top facilities and support staff.
But you know what 17-year-old recruits love more than both of those things? Novelty.
According to a study last year, 60 percent of “Gen Z” (people currently aged 16-22) say they “want to pursue challenges, novelty, and change throughout their lives.”
It should come as no surprise, then, that they wouldn’t want to look exactly like the person who wore their number or played the same position for decades prior. Today’s recruits want to stand out. They want to be remembered as individuals, not just another brick in a scarlet and gray wall.
If you’re still not convinced, look no further than former coach Urban Meyer, the greatest recruiter in the school’s history.
“What I started to find out is recruits don’t like it, they love it,” Meyer said recently of the alternate uniforms worn each season. “Someone said, ‘Don’t you like the tradition?’ I said I love tradition, but there’s one thing I like better than tradition, and that’s getting a great recruit.”
Further evidence can be found in the content produced by said recruits. When Ohio State’s highest-rated commit for 2021, Jack Sawyer from nearby Pickerington, visited campus with a handful of his high school teammates, it was no surprise that they decided not to be photographed in the team’s traditional uniform but in the all-black alternates.
Great day to be a buckeye #GoBucks #BuckeyeNation pic.twitter.com/h1OEVuk6E9
— Jack Sawyer (@jacksawyer40) March 24, 2019
Does this mean all of the Buckeyes’ alternate uniforms are aesthetically pleasing? Of course not. While some, such as the 2010 throwbacks worn in Ann Arbor, or the all-white kits worn in a 2014 ‘Whiteout’ in State College remain personal favorites of mine, there is a reason other alternates were worn only once.
But although fans are really just ‘rooting for laundry,’ to steal Jerry Seinfeld’s classic joke, it doesn’t mean that the laundry itself has to remain the same. It’s true that a program’s traditions far outlast the playing career of any single player, no matter how dominant.
What fans truly care about most is to see those players winning football games, and as we all know, having the best players goes a long way toward achieving that goal.
Even if you, the fan, don’t want to wear the latest alternate uniform produced by Nike, that’s fine. But, something tells me you’ll have no problem wearing the championship hat they produce a few months later.
Counter-Take: Ohio State Should Never Wear Alternate Uniforms
David Regimbal: Ohio State has not produced a single successful alternate jersey, because conceptually, alternate jerseys are dumb and bad.
I know I’m an old in this regard, but seriously, why would you want to alter something so devastatingly perfect? Think about your favorite food in the world. Your absolute favorite dish. Mine is a 21-day dry-aged bone-in ribeye steak from Le Cellier Steakhouse. Why would I want the chefs in that magical kitchen to abruptly serve me an overcooked pork chop every six or seven times I order it? That’s what Ohio State and Nike do every time they roll out these never-ending sins against nature.
Seriously look at these things.
Any time I watch highlights from a game the Buckeyes wore these all-white monstrosities, this is the only thing bouncing around in my head.
I don’t buy the argument that the ‘cruits get all fired up about them or that they’re a solid additional revenue stream for the athletic department. Ohio State is printing money at this point and Alabama hardly ever makes alterations to their jerseys (at least, not drastic ones), and they’re probably off celebrating their 14th recruiting national championship in the last eight years.
I personally fell in love with Ohio State on January 1, 1997, when Joe Germaine found some freshman receiver named David Boston in the end zone for the go-ahead touchdown to beat Arizona State in the Rose Bowl. Those are Ohio State’s perfect away jerseys. The perfect home jerseys were worn when Troy Smith clinched his Heisman Trophy and the Buckeyes’ spot in the 2007 BCS National Championship Game that we will not be talking about any further.
Whenever Ohio State takes the field in alternate jerseys I think about that quote from the movie Catch Me If You Can. Christopher Walken’s character Frank tells his son Frank Jr., played by Leonardo DiCaprio, a joke he knew about the Yankees.
Frank Abagnale Sr.: You know why the Yankees always win, Frank?
Frank Abagnale, Jr.: 'Cause they have Mickey Mantle?
Frank Abagnale Sr.: No, it's 'cause the other teams can't stop staring at those damn pinstripes.
When Ohio State wears alternates I’m not impressed or caught up in some inorganic hype. They look like they’re wearing pajamas with football pads underneath.
You know who else wasn’t impressed with them? Clemson. And Virginia Tech. And Michigan State. And Penn State. And then Clemson a second time. And then Clemson a third time.
Ohio State was wearing these travesties in over half its losses since 2014. Let’s stop the madness please.
