THERE has always been a certain cachet, for men of a certain age, in

using the sports gear of a previous era . . . to turn up for an

invitation cricket match in yellowing whites and boots with torn

toecaps, or as a weekend guest to bring a pair of wooden, slightly

warped tennis rackets. The suggestion is of an athletic past, even if

the present proves to be of short-sighted incompetence. The situation is

well understood by Marks and Spencer, whose wide range of pre-faded

rugby shirts is popular with English golfers. The suggestion, as

students of gamesmanship will be aware, is that golf is a new, and

perhaps only a passing, interest.

The latest trend in male tennis attire is proving very helpful to the

older generation. The baggy, knee-length shorts of Andre Agassi and Pete

Sampras were once normal wear, and elderly men who wear them at family

barbecues are now the envy of their grandchildren. Wimbledon was

introduced to them in 1933 by Bunny Austin, when he became the first

player to abandon long trousers, made famous by the elegant Fred Perry.

Last week's decision no longer to market Perry's sports gear is a sign

that even the biggest stars now have a shelf life. The latest in casual

wear is the football jersey, with grown men said to be willing to pay

#50 a shirt. With more than a dozen countries still nursing hopes of the

World Cup, the problem is in choosing the right team.

Then, fortunately, it will soon be out of date. As modern fathers know

to their cost, Rangers and Celtic, like their English counterparts, find

it profitable to change their strip almost every year. Even the national

strip must be redesigned. Scotland's present gear may be tasteful, even

dainty, but it will soon be altered. For gamesmanship, of course, the

outdated football shirt is then useful for another sport. The most

popular shirt on Scottish golf courses this year is still the dark blue

one marking the victories of Grand Slam '90.