Scott Martin

I have a closet full of cycling jerseys. And that's where most of 'em will stay.

I refuse to out my closeted jerseys because they fall into 2 camps: (1) nauseatingly garish garments with clashing neon colors and more logos than a 12-vehicle NASCAR pile-up, and (2) itchy, retro, one-color yawners with all the flair of a haz-mat suit.

Can't anybody make a jersey with a bit of panache or wit? And, please, no more pop-culture horrors like Yoo-hoo or Metallica jerseys.

Actually, I did spot a cool jersey at a race the other weekend. Light-blue and white, it sported a cartoon of a crew-cut guy flexing his arm. The sponsor: Bad Boys Bail Bonds.

Some of the pro teams' kits aren't bad either, like my Team Discovery jersey. Sure, I get sick of people constantly mistaking me for Lance Armstrong. But I feel the least I can do is give them an autograph: "Dear Milt -- It's not about the bike. Your pal, Lance. P.S. -- Ride a Trek, wear Nike and put your money in American Century Investments."

The way the doping scandals are going, though, team jerseys plastered with sponsor logos may not be a problem much longer. Next year, Levi Leipheimer could be racing in a jersey proclaiming This Space for Rent.

More likely, we'll return to the days when even the best racers were sponsored by mom-and-pop businesses. Heck, in the 1970s the incomparable Eddy Merckx rode for Molteni, an Italian sausage maker. (Molteni's slogan: Just Fry It.)

Speaking of jerseys with second-tier sponsors, years ago there was a small pro team in Europe called Sauna Diana. A bike-racing squad backed by a spa? Not exactly. Sauna Diana was a bordello.

Now that's a cool jersey.

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