The concept of this coffee-table-worthy photo book is simple: Pictures of jerseys. The pay-off is boundless.

Thick, four-color pages show from one to 12 jerseys each, some of them captioned with the name of the rider who wore the specific jersey photographed, some merely identified by team and nationality. Throughout, there are larger write-ups on significant riders. Some of the spotlights fall on stars you’d justifiably expect, such as Fausto Coppi or Raymond Poulidor, but some of the most satisfying finds are things like the full-page write-up on Herman Vanspringel’s 1968 Mann-Grundig jersey, or Gerben Karsten’s 1965 Televizier jersey - and the stories behind them.

Leafing through, you'll discover surprises such as Greg LeMond’s La Vie Claire combine jersey from the Tour de France, which incorporated fields of polka dot, green and yellow into the iconic Mondrian-inspired design, making one of the all-time greatest team jerseys even more amazing. Until prompted by the photo, you'll see that the Tour used to award the combine (determined by tallying the results in all three disciplines).

From the Ruffles (potato chip) Tour of Texas, to the evocatively named teams Locomotief (1950s) and Gazelle (1980s), to the puzzling rainbow-goose-egg logo of Dutch Zero Boys and more, I keep finding new favorites. Disco-pop colors and Euro-trash aesthetic reign supreme on some pages, while others are nearly solemn and museum-like.

The book is an American adaptation of a Dutch collection, titled “Koerstrui,” that former American pro Bill Humphreys was shown by a friend in 2010. Inspired, Humphreys not only bought the North American rights to the book, but also began soliciting entries from his old racing friends and contacts. The result is a new, 52-page section focusing on American history that precedes the original content. The U.S. section is divided into short chapters with titles such as “Club Jerseys,” “Regional Club Sponsorships,” and “Wool Shorts, Iron Will,” that also serve as a short history of domestic cycling since the ’60s. There’s John Allis’s Princeton jersey, Steve Woznick’s Paris-Sport. Mark Whitehead’s AMF, the Centurion-Shimano from Bunki Bankaitus.

The concept of this coffee-table-worthy photo book is simple: Pictures of jerseys. The pay-off is boundless.

Thick, four-color pages show from one to 12 jerseys each, some of them captioned with the name of the rider who wore the specific jersey photographed, some merely identified by team and nationality. Throughout, there are larger write-ups on significant riders. Some of the spotlights fall on stars you’d justifiably expect, such as Fausto Coppi or Raymond Poulidor, but some of the most satisfying finds are things like the full-page write-up on Herman Vanspringel’s 1968 Mann-Grundig jersey, or Gerben Karsten’s 1965 Televizier jersey - and the stories behind them.

Leafing through, you'll discover surprises such as Greg LeMond’s La Vie Claire combine jersey from the Tour de France, which incorporated fields of polka dot, green and yellow into the iconic Mondrian-inspired design, making one of the all-time greatest team jerseys even more amazing. Until prompted by the photo, you'll see that the Tour used to award the combine (determined by tallying the results in all three disciplines).

From the Ruffles (potato chip) Tour of Texas, to the evocatively named teams Locomotief (1950s) and Gazelle (1980s), to the puzzling rainbow-goose-egg logo of Dutch Zero Boys and more, I keep finding new favorites. Disco-pop colors and Euro-trash aesthetic reign supreme on some pages, while others are nearly solemn and museum-like.

The book is an American adaptation of a Dutch collection, titled “Koerstrui,” that former American pro Bill Humphreys was shown by a friend in 2010. Inspired, Humphreys not only bought the North American rights to the book, but also began soliciting entries from his old racing friends and contacts. The result is a new, 52-page section focusing on American history that precedes the original content. The U.S. section is divided into short chapters with titles such as “Club Jerseys,” “Regional Club Sponsorships,” and “Wool Shorts, Iron Will,” that also serve as a short history of domestic cycling since the ’60s. There’s John Allis’s Princeton jersey, Steve Woznick’s Paris-Sport. Mark Whitehead’s AMF, the Centurion-Shimano from Bunki Bankaitus.

There’s nothing else quite like this book. Its purity of purpose - to concentrate on showing jerseys - would not have been achievable if the idea had been seized by a focus-grouped, consumer-pre-publication-testing big-time publisher. Nor would its eccentricity, a large part of its appeal, have survived. The selections are in no way representative of the cycling world or accepted history, nor do they seem balanced or in any way targeted solely to achieve widespread popular interest. The index - organized by rider name instead of team name - can be maddening. Yet, failing to find the team you wanted sends you scrambling through the pages all over again. This is a quirky, amazing book that exudes the kind of fetishistic love of the sport that turns some of us into lifelong cyclists.