This is the b-side of our platter, sports fans

If clubs and sports kit manufacturers are just going to callously ignore our vision of design future, as they have pointedly been doing in the four days since it was published, then they should at least strive for the no-shame-in-that, Tyson Gayian silver medal and look towards Paris. For Stade Français have outdone themselves.

Last year, we reported on how Stade gleefully flaunted the conventions of sports kits, wrecking some heads in the process. A basic summary: a Warholian representation of Blanche of Castile, wife of Louis VIII; and pink — bold, distinctly un-rugby-like pink. It met with our approval.

This year? Lo:



Wow. Talk about never resting on your laurels. If there's a better pair of jerseys in sport right now, I have yet to make its acquaintance.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking Fred, ordinarily I enjoy to the point of awe your wickedly ironic take on the world of sport, and would gladly pay you a considerable quantity of euro for the privilege were it not gratis — in fact, I'm writing out a postal order as I think — but to be honest, you're starting to frighten me. These shirts are an abomination, an affront to all that's decent and proper. Tell me you're joking!

No. No, no, a googol times no. Look, if you're happy with your templated, pipe-and-slippers jersey orthodoxy, that's grand. Really. But in this squalid, neglected back lane of the global village, we salute its arrogance, its perversity, its dedication to the spirit of — to borrow a phrase from Tony Wilson* — just being bloody wilful. We hereby adopt it as our home jersey.

Spiritually, of course, not actually. The only time a man should pay €80 for an article of clothing is if he's getting married in it. (Hey, there's an idea...) But it's the thought that counts, it really is.

H/T on the new Stade jerseys: football_music @Twitter

* 24 Hour Party People DVD extras, nerdlingers!