Ranking the Penguins’ post-1985 uniforms, 16 to 1
William Harris I woke up this morning and was like, “You know what I wanna do today? Get yelled at by Penguins fans. A lot! More than usual!”
So, here we are. It’s uniform week here at The Athletic, and because I couldn’t leave well enough alone, I decided to rank the Penguins’ various post-1985 jerseys, 16 through 1. “This is a good idea,” said the stupid man stupidly.
Advertisement
Some ground rules and clarifications:
- The 1985 cutoff might seem arbitrary, but it’s not. Quality photographs of hockey, even from the late 20th century, is a little tough to nail down. Plus, including all of the various permutations of blue jerseys, especially given that the look came back in the 2010s, would’ve bloated the rankings. It’s cleaner and more organized this way. For the same reason, I didn’t account for the assortment of patches they’ve worn over the years — the league’s 75th anniversary, “NHL 2000,” the Pittsburgh sesquicentennial, the franchise’s 50th year, et al, did not enter the thought process.
- I’d like to say that personal bias didn’t factor into this, either, but that would be dishonest. It’s design. There are principles, for sure, and there’s also no accounting for preference. Or, as some people put it, “taste.” Still, how much they won (or did not win) really didn’t matter to me. You will see that very early in the exercise.
- The Penguins’ track record is really good. On some level, I like all of these.
- This is all just an excuse to have a little fun and, I suppose, start some arguments in the comments. We’re missing out on that, and this is more fun to me than, like, trying to care about whether Minkah Fitzpatrick counts in the Steelers’ 2020 draft class. So, let’s roll. I’ll be in the comments defending myself.
16. Home black, 2007-16
Starting off with a bang. The switch from Vegas gold to khaki is the biggest mistake the franchise ever made. Yes, that includes the 1992 logo change. In a way, this look is the inverse of “the pigeon;” people got attached to it because they won, and not because they suffered the most crushing playoff defeat in franchise history within months of adopting it.
Cliff’s notes? Reebok is to blame. When they introduced the Edge jersey prototype and changed the fabric, sparkly tones like Vegas gold got left in the dust. The end result was a “golden triangle” that looked like it should’ve had pleats. Awful. Then, because of the success the team had while wearing it and the overall focus on reintroducing blue, it stuck around for way too long.
15. Road white, 2007-16
I flipped a coin to decide between these. Doesn’t matter.
14. Yellow third, 2018-present
These ones get points for audacity. Part of me wishes they’d have gone with white helmets, and part of me appreciates the commitment to the bit. These are the definition of an alternate jersey; they’re OK to bring out a handful of times, but nobody is ever going to clamor for them to replace the standards. They just suffer by comparison. The fact that they’re wearing these means that they’re opting against looks I enjoy more.
13. Road white, 2002-07
A step above khaki, but the white still manages to wash out the Vegas gold. There’s also no real nostalgic reattachment at play here; we’d already seen the return of the skating penguin.
12. Navy third, 2011-13
These get a bad rap because of the, uh, events of the 2011 Winter Classic, and that’s understandable enough. Sidney Crosby’s issues continued into 2013, too. Dude got hit in the face with a puck and broke his jaw. It makes sense that the plug was pulled a little early. Curses might not be real, but people believing that they’re real is more than enough. This is nothing great — it’s a fauxback/Frankenjersey combo based on a few different looks from the franchise’s first decade that made for more aesthetic identity confusion, and that is a lot of striping — but it’s not terrible, either. One of the many circle-crest/navy schemes that its predecessor inspired.
Advertisement
11. Home white, 1992-2002
It’s clean and era-defining, in its own way. Your mileage depends on how you feel about the logo. Period. There’s not much going on beyond that. The pointed shoulder inserts are nice.
10. Powder blue third, 2008-11
Someday — and it might be now — we’re going to look back on the five-year foray into blue schemes as a weird blip on the radar, but these were good, no matter what. It set a trend for Winter Classic jerseys, standardizing stuff like the lace-up collar. It looked great on TV. People bought the hell out of them.
9. “Vegas gold” third, 1999-2002/home black, 2002-07
There’s a reason Vegas gold made its first appearance on the black jerseys; the contrast worked. Some bad teams wore these, but it was still a great look.
8. Home black, 2017-present
Now we’ve graduated a tier and entered nit-picking territory. First, the positive: the Adidas AdiZero template is better than the Reebox Edge. The dotted shoulder yoke, in particular, is cool. Adding texture is good. Adidas, though, screwed up the collar. That wasn’t true for every team coming out of the 2017 redesign; it was true for the Penguins. The deep V getting dropped for a half-collard, “I’m wearing a jersey over a golf shirt” look is a major downgrade. Major.
7. Road white, 2017-present
These ones get the edge because the contrast is a little less obvious for the collars, and the “Pittsburgh gold”/yellow against white works well. So close.
6. Road black, 1980-92
Pretty iconic. All the stuff we like today traces back to this jersey set.
5. Road black, 1992-97
This is where people are gonna start to get pissed. We’re in “divisive opinion” territory, now. Is it a Rangers rip-off? Yeah. Former owner Howard Baldwin and designer Gary Adams were open about that. Doesn’t matter, though; it’s also a throwback to the franchise’s inaugural jersey set in 1967, and the only one since that featured the name of the city outside a circle crest. This is a sticky pop-culture look for a reason. You’re more likely to see something like this in the future than any of the other past looks.
Advertisement
4. “RoboPenguin” third, 1996-97/away black 1997-2002
Pajama jerseys. Gradient jerseys. “RoboPenguin.” Call it whatever — but it’s good. Might be of it’s time. Might’ve been tailor-made for 9-year-olds back then. But it managed to be different and forward-thinking in a way we rarely see now, especially in hockey. It a risky look that paid off, just like my decision to make it No. 4.
3. Road white, 2016-17
Look at that collar. Look at those shoulder cut-outs. Why would anyone mess with that. Why? Why?
2. Home white, 1980-92
This gets the edge over its spiritual successor because the striping on the bottom is simpler, and that appeals to me.
1. Black third, 2014-16/home black 2016-17
It’s tough to imagine what else anyone could expect out of a jersey. The crest and color scheme are iconic. It’s tied to civic identity without being corny. There’s a certain amount of mythos attached to it, since they bumped it up to primary home-jersey status for the 2016 Stanley Cup run. And it doesn’t look anyone is wearing a Polo shirt underneath. Best jersey in franchise history. Not close. All disagreement? Misguided and wrong. Glad that’s settled.
(Top photo of Mario Lemieux: Bruce Bennett / Getty Images)
