As I began watching Game 1 of the National League Wild Card series a few weeks ago, I was caught off guard when I witnessed Mets shortstop Francisco Lindor strut up to the plate for his first playoff at-bat as the mass of hyped-up Brewers fans booed heavily in the background.

Alongside Lindor’s notable presence and his unforgettable smile, I noticed something off about his uniform — specifically his helmet. As he stepped into the batter’s box and looked in for his first pitch, fans like myself watching TV could distinctly make out a sticker strategically placed on the side of his helmet that was notably absent during the regular season.

The decal read “Strauss,” the name of a German apparel company specializing in durable workwear. After seeing this, my body had a visceral reaction, and in an angry stupor, I began reflecting on why and how the MLB could let this happen.

The decision to allow helmet sponsorships was made earlier this fall in a negotiation by team owners and the MLB Players Association. The choice to incorporate company ads on helmets comes in conjunction with permitting teams to place corporate patches on uniform sleeves during play, a decision that went into effect last season.

Despite Major League Baseball using helmet sponsors in international games in the past, this was the first implementation of the new decision in the playoffs.

I personally hate the use of ad space on professional jerseys, especially in a sport known as “America’s pastime.” But unfortunately, in this new era of opportunistic capitalism in sports, I fear these kinds of sponsorship deals are here to stay.

MLB’s push to incorporate helmet and jersey sponsors, alongside the rest of the major American professional sports leagues, is an abomination that violates the history and pageantry of the organizations themselves while showcasing the greed of league commissioners and team owners alike.

Professional uniform advertisements are nothing new in the world of sports, with a large percentage of international professional soccer teams placing company ads and logos front and center on their kits.

The English Premier League, for instance, has incorporated corporate sponsorships into its uniform design since the late ‘80s, with many teams opting into the jersey fundraising opportunity as early as 1970.

This trend didn’t hit the major American sports market until the mid-2010s when the NBA became the first major professional league, outside of the MLS and WNBA, to incorporate a uniform sponsor into their everyday jerseys.

This event was chronicled by CNN in April 2016 when it was reported that the new proposed ad space would “be sold as part of a three-year pilot program and will take the form of 2.5-inch square patches that are tailored to a sponsor’s logo.” The profits from the deal would allow teams to “net half of the sponsorship money from the jersey ads” while “the rest will go to the league’s revenue-sharing pool.”

This decision, which reportedly had the opportunity to gross the league over $100 million in the first three years alone, illustrates the unconditional selfishness that plagues team owners and league commissioners in professional sports.

Those behind the deal, specifically Adam Silver and the NBA Board of Governors, neglected to consider both the fans and the history of their league when making a decision like this. The uniform patches ruin jerseys’ aesthetics and jeopardize the historic roots many teams have with their beloved uniforms.

At this point, every NBA team has its own corporate jersey partner, with some ads being the same color as the uniform and others completely different. Although some partnerships make more sense than others based on geographic location — like when the Bucks teamed up with Harley-Davidson, the historic motorcycle brand founded in Milwaukee — the ad itself tends to look abrupt and ugly on most uniforms.

Kansas City Chiefs Sports Illustrated writer Jacob Harris agreed with this sentiment back in 2020 when he stated, “The ads aren’t even aesthetically nice. They couldn’t make them blend more seamlessly because then people might not notice them. Instead, you end up with trashy messes like the Thunder with a bright yellow and red Love’s Travel Stops logo.”

This issue goes far beyond the NBA, with the NHL and MLB following suit in recent years. The only league that currently doesn’t have on-field jersey sponsors is the NFL; however, the league has recently moved to allow practice uniforms to be decked out in advertisements, too.

Pro sports jerseys are fun, colorful, and essential to a team’s brand recognition and cultural history. When teams begin to deface that same history with new uniform ads and helmet stickers, it desecrates the legacy of the many pioneers who have worn that same jersey in the past.

I understand the need to generate revenue, but since the NBA, NHL, and MLB all made well over a billion dollars in 2023 alone, it doesn’t make sense to me why leagues continue to pursue a few extra bucks if it means sacrificing the purity of the uniforms, and ultimately, the spectacle of the game itself.