Baseball is a predictable sport by its very nature, and that’s not a bad thing at all. The air of predictability creates that sense of comfort that makes the game so lovable.

That predictability, though, is propped up by a very serious air of tradition that hovers over every game. You would be unwise to argue against it. The home team wears white, the road team wears gray, and both squads follow a plethora of unwritten rules that can have grave consequences if not adhered to. If you hit a home run and watch it sail over the fences for too long, you are the worst person in the ballpark, and the pitcher can and will retaliate. I don’t make the rules!

To preface, I don’t think that all change is great — don’t ask me about the NBA’s Play-In cash grab, yikes — but sometimes it’s fun to tinker with tradition and push boundaries. Yes, it infuriates some, but it creates engagement! It gives us something to talk about! It gets the people going!

It seems that the San Francisco Giants took my suggestion to heart. And for that, I thank them dearly.

In line with the MLB’s City Connect series of alternate uniforms, the Giants officially unveiled theirs last week, and a lot of people hate them.

I … am not one of those people.

Dubbed “The Remix” by the organization’s official press release, the uniform is anchored by a black jersey littered with soundwaves that are meant to resemble vinyl grooves.

I will concede that the look is jarring; there’s no doubt about it. It’s simultaneously loud yet incredibly subdued, which is a feat all in itself. Personally, I think it looks more like a seismograph reading, but to each their own.

The jersey features a bold, flowing “Giants” script that is stylistically similar to a blot of graffiti. Per the release, it’s supposed to flow “like a psychedelic music poster,” but I think the intention and the outcome divorced a bit during the creative process; it looks more like the Ghost energy drink. Despite that, it’s a solid enough look. The script is outlined with a fluid gradient of orange and purple hues, adding some life to the jersey’s design.

“Purple? But the Giants don’t wear purple.

Apparently, the Giants wore purple — excuse me, violet — for four years in the 1910s when they were still playing in New York, as a show of homage to nearby New York University. That’s the justification. This is my only true gripe with the uniform, honestly, and it’s not even the purple itself. I think it makes for a perfect contrasting color — but I take issue with the reasoning behind the use of purple.

The uniforms are supposed to speak to the city of San Francisco, yet the club is including a tribute to NYU? It’s not a Giants tribute uniform, it’s a City Connect uniform! You can’t connect to another city! If they wanted to use purple, they should’ve just done it without adding the needless New York shoutout. It’s just a bit unserious, but I can excuse it because the gradient is so, so well executed.

The gradient flies around the uniform, making its mark on the hat, the cuffs of the jersey and even down the pant stripe. It also features prominently on the best part of the entire uniform: the abstracted glove patch that’s embroidered on the sleeve. The patch, designed with “Summer of Love” energy, utilizes a free-flowing psychedelic font that takes the Giants’ full title to fill the space of the glove. A white “1958” is contoured into a small circle to represent a ball in the middle. It’s excellent.

The uniform is completed with white pants and a black hat with a vibrant “SF” logo prominently featured in the middle, in the same Ghost-like font as the jersey.

Under the team’s reveal posts on Twitter (I’m not calling it that other name) and Instagram, at least 60% of the comments were scathing in their dislike for the package. Here are some of my favorite responses:

“You have failed us as fans. This is atrocious.”

“You look like the Phoenix Suns. This isn’t a compliment.”

“These might actually be the worst jerseys I’ve ever seen.”

Despite the profound opposition, I’m growing to love this move by the Giants. Obviously, it’s not a perfect jersey; a lot could’ve been improved. I would have loved to see the psychedelic font on the glove patch be more prominently featured, and the unity of the design is a bit scattered. But hey, it’s bold, and it’s lively. Baseball is a traditionalist sport, yes, but why can’t we have some fun every now and then?

The adherence to tradition might not be all that great, anyway. The sport has been declining in popularity among Americans for years. While last year’s powerhouse World Series between the Dodgers and Yankees drew 14 million viewers, the number still pales in comparison to the highs of 30 to 40 million that the MLB welcomed in the 1980s when the sport stood at the forefront of American culture.

This drop has been even more pronounced with younger viewers. Per a 2022 Washington Post poll, only 38% of Americans aged 18 to 34 called themselves baseball fans, in comparison to rates of 64% for football and 58% for basketball. Even soccer and E-sports outpaced baseball, at 39% and 40% respectively. The numbers for baseball started to recover last year, but there’s still some work to do. So yeah, I’m fine with the MLB breaking established practices to try some new things.

People said the pitch clock would artificialize the game; everything is fine. People said playoff expansion to six teams would devalue the season and hurt the best teams, and everything is fine. People said the arrival of the designated hitter in the National League ruined the sport’s tradition and the two leagues’ distinction. Three years later, no one cares.

I think that baseball fans are predisposed to fear novelty. Change is inevitable in everything, whether it be game rules or uniform design. This isn’t to say every remix should be adored, or every jersey, either. The Dodgers’ current City Connect uniform is offensively bland — confetti cake? — and San Francisco’s own 2021 rendition felt more like a Gatorade promotion.

But this time around, in the big year of 2025, I wholeheartedly appreciate the Giants’ attempt to liven up the field. It’s due time for the MLB to revitalize the sport’s culture, and tapping into a more modern aesthetic is a great way to do that. Yes, the jersey is fun, and I’ll probably buy it, but I’m more swayed by what it embodies: a small, yet concentrated step away from the predictability that has gripped America’s favorite pastime for so very long.

Darrian Merritt is a freshman writing about the intersection of sports and popular culture in his column, “The Notebook,” which runs every other Monday.