Let’s just face it – you were lame if you didn’t own a Starter Jacket. I can remember the exact day when I realized that my blue Air Force replica coat just wasn’t going to cut it. It was in the fourth grade and even a girl who never talked to me went out of her way to make fun of my lack of officially licensed sports apparel. What was a guy to do? I mean, Christmas didn’t roll around for another couple months and I wasn’t going to be caught dead in that nerdy knock-off military jacket. Literally overnight, the faux badges and stripes that adorned my outerwear stood for “dork” and “social outcast” instead of “valor” and “honor” as they once had. So, unbeknown to my parents, I coatlessly bared the Ohio December until that glorious morning where I opened the wrapping paper of my very own Cleveland Indians pullover…