Thom Gibbs looks at the latest kit designs and finds only a few sartorial gems among the racks of polyester horrors and 'Climacool' fabrics
Pre-season is a time to nurse gently the bruises that football has inflicted on our souls in the past nine months. As the new campaign approaches we revert to a position of blind optimism and unreserved excitement. Nothing captures that dumbly hopeful glow better than the first glimpse of next season’s shirts. What unforgettable moments will we associate with our side’s new kit? Will it be remembered as a cocky disaster like England’s Admiral strips of the barren 1970s? Or surreal triumph, à la the radioactive bird poo kit inexorably linked to Norwich’s 1990s European adventures?