When logos go wrong

Zoo Revue

Animal logos are the hardest ones to screw up. If you cannot draw a credible bear or tiger, you will probably not be asked to design a team logo after junior high school. Still, it’s amazing how many teams overthink the process of slapping a helmet or a hockey stick on a lion, horse, or hawk.

Doing It Right: St. Louis Cardinals, MLB, 1920s

There are dozens of examples of appealing animal emblems, but the National League champs proved how easy it was in the 1920s. Again, this was an era when the crosstown Browns could not make legible initials on a cap. Yet the Cardinals designed a handsome logo which, with a few tweaks, is a dead ringer for the one we saw on Carlos Beltran’s chest in the World Series.

It helps that cardinals are aesthetically bulletproof: from these early birds to Margaret from Regular Show, they are always beautiful and easy to render. Of course, tigers are beautiful and easy to draw, too, so how did this happen?

Cincinnati Bengals, AFL, late 1960s

When you think of jungle cats and successful NFL franchises, you no doubt envision emaciated creatures fleeing in terror. Off-brand, not-so-greeeat Tony here was forced to wear a helmet with his likeness on it which was at least four sizes too small, hence the panic. It is hard to tell if the helmet tiger is also fleeing, with a little helmet flying off which also contains a fleeing tiger and tinier helmet, ad infinitum. The Bengals gave up and stenciled their team name across their helmets for ten years after this, and it was a drastic improvement.

Detroit Tigers, MLB, late 1920s

It’s OK… I will just hide the body up in a tree. Everything is going to be fine. Just fine.

Denver Broncos, AFL, 1960s

This emblem appears to have been drawn by someone who has never seen a human, a horse, or a human riding a horse. The golden retriever-sized horse gleefully bucks the tiny-headed football player as retribution for digging cleats into his back, but as the player’s wrists are thicker than his biceps, any anatomical damage inflicted by the fall will probably be an improvement.

Buffalo Bills, AFL, 1960s

“Hey, I’m here for practice and… what’s that? You say you are taking a picture of a buffalo for the team logo? I will just lean out of your way. What’s that? You say I am leaning into your way? Well, this is the only way I can lean because my shoulders are bolted to my torso.” By the way, the number 31 does not represent any specific player. For years, it was a retired number that represented “the spirit of the Bills,” but nowadays Jarius Byrd gets to wear it. The Bills are weird.

Dallas Chaparrals, ABA, 1960s

This little guy is rather cute for a two-minute pencil-and-crayon doodle. Unfortunately, he was the actual emblem for a basketball team no one remembers. “Chaparral” is an ecological term for sagebrush country. If you want people to come watch your team, don’t name them after a featureless wilderness.