Tony Giro, The Examiner
2008-07-27 07:00:00.0
Current rank: # 3,958 of 2,198

BALTIMORE -

10  Baltimore Orioles, 1971: Be sure to break out the Blueblockers to protect your retinas if you come across this photographic evidence of the monstrosity that was the team’s alternate uniform that season. The only way you can exit the dugout dressed like candy corn — orange tops and bottoms — and still have any dignity is if you have McNally, Palmer, Cuellar or Dobson heading to the hump. How many guys in the clubhouse called Boog Powell the “Great Pumpkin” when he donned these dubious digs?

9  Tampa Bay Buccaneers, 1976-1996: Why did it take 20 years before somebody pulled the plug on these puke-orange uniforms? Vinny Testaverde didn’t need any help looking like hot garbage when he was in Tampa, but he sure got a boost from this ensemble. The color scheme is so bad, even the Buccaneer logo on the helmet, “Bucco Bruce,” is wincing in agony. That, or he stabbed himself in the eye with his dagger in an effort to ease the pain of being a pastel bandit.

8  Anaheim Mighty Ducks, 1993-2005: I don’t care how scrappy Emilio Estevez was in the role of “Coach Bombay” — no team should be named after a Disney film. It should be strictly forbidden to make professional hockey players wear a uniform with a gigantic, duck-shaped goalie mask across the chest.

7  Toronto Raptors, 1996-2002: Scene from the Raptors’ first logo design meeting: “How about we start with the timeless color combination of purple, red, black and white, add pinstripes and then we slap a 10-inch cartoon dinosaur dribbling a basketball across the chest? Who’s with me? Isiah? Yes? Yes!!!” The uniform is the worst thing to come out of Canada since Bachman-Turner Overdrive.

(Also check out the alternate logo the Raptors used from 1996-98 which featured a dinosaur either hatching from, or humping, a basketball. Either way, there is simply no excuse for this malfeasance.)

6  Houston Rockets, 1995-2003: The uniforms were not inspired by a major motion picture film like those of the Raptors and Ducks, but the Rockets revamped their basic red, yellow and white uniforms with a disgruntled, cartoon rocket orbiting a basketball. Add the fading pinstripes, a horrific font and the mini-number placed in the breast region, and you know why Steve Francis was never the same after wearing this uniform.

5  San Diego Padres, 1969-1991: Sure, I can dig a logo featuring a monk dressed in a flowing robe swinging for the fences. But the doo-doo brown and pee-pee yellow uniforms remind me of my son’s diaper after a Chicken McNugget binge. Brown: bad. Yellow: bad. Brown and yellow together: potty-training time.

4  Baltimore Ravens, 1996-1998: Apparently, just having a team back in Baltimore was good enough for us because no one really cared how stupid the Ravens looked on the field. The number style was hideous, the black pants with an eight-inch wide stripe down the side were brutal and the idea of wearing a purple jersey with black pants was worse than Deron Jenkins. Leave it to a guy from my hometown of Arbutus to come up with a logo featuring a capital “B” with wings. My man must’ve drawn that one up on a cocktail napkin after a long night at Shuffle’s Saloon.

3  Houston Astros, 1975-1979: Question: Why was “AstroTurf” invented? Answer: Because the guy in charge of outfitting the Astros was smoking all the grass. Seriously, how many stripes are too many? Try to convince yourself you like these unis, you and I both know Joaquin Andujar did not look cool dressed as the emergency broadcasting system.

2  Washington Wizards, (Alternate) 2006-present: What the hell are these things? Shiny, black shorts coupled with shimmering gold jerseys with enough stars to demand their own solar system have no place, well, anywhere. If somebody told me Olivia Newton-John designed these uniforms for a remake of “Xanadu” I wouldn’t be shocked. Just another reason why the Wizards should return to Baltimore, take the name Bullets back and adorn the classic orange and blue worn by Earl “The Pearl.”

1  Chicago White Sox, 1976: The undisputed champions of textile tackiness could be ridiculed for any number of fashion faux-pas over the years, but you know where I’m going with this one. A navy and white, poly-cotton blend leisure suit featuring shorts and jerseys with butterfly collars was the uniform du jour for a team that won only 64 games. Luckily, sequined stirrups were scrapped.