Last week, we looked at the worst jerseys each NFL team had ever worn. For some teams, this meant nitpicking clean jerseys. For the Jacksonville Jaguars, it was like approaching a prime rib and lobster buffet.
This, of course, let to the other side of the coin. Which jerseys are the best in franchise history?
Some teams have relied on the same simple and clean combination of classic colors and crisp contrast to sustain stars across generations. Others have cycled through underwhelming combinations before landing on greatness. And others have discarded greatness or relegated it to throwback status in order to wear vastly inferior uniforms (hello, New England Patriots).
So, in an effort to get yelled at in the comments some more, we’re tackling the best jerseys each NFL team has worn. We’ll limit this to post AFL-NFL merger kits, so there won’t be anything before 1970 included here unless a team has worn it as a throwback since. And here’s where I’ll mention the obscene helpfulness of the Gridiron Uniform Database, which is invaluable for sparking stupid arguments like the 32 I’m set to wade into.
Let’s talk best jerseys, running down each team in alphabetical order. And remember, this is all subjective and my forte is quarterback value, not fashion, so it’s entirely possible I am very, very wrong.
Am I a big dumb child for clapping and laughing at the Arizona state flag sleeve stripes? POSSIBLY. Is there maybe too much going on with those sleeves? I can concede that. But these work despite their busy-ness, perhaps because the team’s red jerseys were basically generic slices of nothing at the time. Hot damn, Larry Centers looked great in these.
Take your pick of any Atlanta jersey from 1966 to 2000. They’re all great. I’m partial to the red home jerseys from the 1980s. The only real shame here is we only got a single season of Deion Sanders in these before the team reverted to black and white primary jersey colors.
The Ravens have stuck with a winning formula in their nearly three decades as a franchise. I have no complaints about their purple or black jerseys, but these whites — with just enough gold contrast, especially in the numbers — stand out just a bit more. Plus, the team shield with Maryland’s funky state flag incorporated? Nice.
The Bills ditched their extremely 2000s era Reebok fits for a simple, throwback look and … is it recency bias to say I like these more than the originals? I mean, Jim Kelly and company looked great in these three-plus decades ago, but Josh Allen might look even better.
The team’s Carolina blue kits are a nice touch as well. But this black-and-blue number has worked so well it’s barely been changed since the franchise’s inception. The shoulder stripes are tapered now, but the thicker slices of the late-90s and 2000s is the superior look.
There have been modern updates — shorter sleeves, tapered stomachs — but the Bears’ home jerseys have remained effectively the same for more than 80 years. That’s because they’re nearly perfect.
The thickness and pattern of the shoulder highlights changed over these two decades, but replacing generic sleeve rings with tiger stripes? Beautiful, champ.
Cleveland’s return to NFL existence meant a slight overhaul to its classic home uniforms. That meant adding an extra layer to the team’s sleeve stripes and moving them closer to the shoulder. It works, adding contrast to a palette of colors that shouldn’t work this well together, but do.
Simple, clean and iconic.
Denver abandoned beauty in a vain quest for perfection and ended up with a handful of extremely “of the times” kits in the years since. None can compete with a hideous sea of orange kissed perfectly by elements of blue and white.
Honestly, the Lions have looked great in just about every uniform they’ve had in the modern era. The newer, lighter Honolulu blues are a nice touch. But the balance on these jerseys, from the white numbers to the silver outlines, give them the edge in my book. Also: Barry Sanders wore them. Thus, they cannot be bad.
The only thing that’s really changed about this look is the collar (added a yellow highlight in the 1980s) and the sleeve length. Otherwise, it’s an old school look for an old school franchise. There’s just enough yellow here to make everything else look better.
You know what? I’m gonna roll with the Battle Reds. Houston only effectively has three jerseys from which to choose, all of which are mostly fine. We’ve got new uniforms coming in 2024, including a new alternate with light blue elements which could be pretty great.
Look, I will forever stan a big, beautiful shoulder stripe that connects at the armpit. Hell, they were capable of making Jim Harbaugh look cool:
Ultimately, the clipped stripes are the cleaner look and a necessity with shorter sleeves. But it’s a call that could go either way; pretty much anything the Colts wear looks good (not you, Indiana nights).
After 2008, the Jags ditched the perfect two-tone gold and black sleeve stripe and the full Jaguar emblem that adorned their earlier jerseys. The uniform gods punished them for this by forcing them through a series of bad redesigns that lasted well into the 2010s. Jacksonville has since course corrected, but it’s still chasing the Boselli era when it comes to uniforms.
Clean, crisp hot dog colors for nearly six decades.
Black numbers on white jerseys? Awesome. Silver numbers on black jerseys? Even better. Silver numbers on white jerseys? Also good. The Raiders operate across of spectrum of 1940s television colors and it works so damn well.
At least the Chargers had the decency to bring these jerseys back in the 2000s, though the current versions ditch the superior vertical shoulder stripe for a horizontal one.
Man, don’t make me choose. Flipper Anderson looked cool as hell in both of these.
The team’s white jerseys from this era are great as well. Hell, even their streamlined current jerseys are solid enough. The combination of aqua and orange, balanced off by a healthy heap of neutral white, is a lovely coastal contrast.
Minnesota’s current jerseys are fine, but give me these block numbers and an ostentatious shoulder stripe over the team’s current flared digits and half-sleeves.
Speaking of big, beautiful shoulder stripes. The return of alternate helmets has meant the return of these cherry red monsters. The Patriots may be far from their glory days, but they’re looking a lot better on throwback weeks than they did to wrap up the 2010s.
Black and gold looks great, even when your team stinks (see: Vanderbilt Commodores). These crisp classic jerseys have sustained New Orleans through lean times, though the gold numbers have only been around since 1996. No matter what the Saints wear, they look sharp as hell. Feel free to put pretty much any of their jerseys in this slot.
The whites from this era are great, too. In fact, pretty much every Giants kit has the same simple blend of red, white and blue that creates a perfect balance.
The Jets brought this look back with a darker shade of green in the 1990s and into the 2000s, which also look good. But the closer you get to Kelly green, the better (see below). The home whites, with inverse sleeve colors, are also solid.
This is not only a gorgeous shade of green, but Philadelphia’s move to replace the arm stripe with an eagle logo worked wonders as well. It took a while, but these jerseys returned in 2023 and, honestly, should never leave the Eagles’ rotation ever again.
Is it sacrilege to like these uniforms from a lost era more than the jerseys Joe Montana wore en route to four Super Bowl wins? Probably! But I kinda love the Niners’ late-90s/early-2000s drop shadowed numbers here, since the black there really does complement the team’s red and gold.
Is that better than this?
I dunno man, tough call. I’m willing to concede I’m a big dumb animal for liking these big block numbers as much as I do.
Damn, man, these almost made *Rick Mirer* look cool.
These were bad so long they went full circle all the way back to good.
Since rebranding as the Titans, Tennessee has relied on a handful of generic uniform designs. That’s a shame, because the Oilers had some of the best jerseys in the game. These recently returned as throwbacks, which is great unless you want to be reminded of your favorite team once being so desperate to leave Texas it played a full season in front of 30,000 fans at Vanderbilt Stadium.
The burgundy road jerseys were also great. The old franchise name is rightfully gone, but this classic uniform combination persists. Mostly.