The players on the PGA Tour are the best golfers in the world. Many of them, however, dress like clowns or Target employees. In other words, their golfing abilities are not proportional to their abilities to dress themselves well.
Many tour players violate the cardinal rule of getting dressed to play golf: "When in doubt, follow the example of Mr. Palmer and Mr. Hogan."
For example, Freddy Jacobson (pictured) looks like a clueless pattern-mixing car mechanic (not that I've seen many stellar examples of quality pattern mixing from mechanics in the past).
Beyond Jacobson, here are five PGA Tour golfers badly in need of a fashion lesson.
Criticizing Long John's wardrobe is easier than shooting fish in a barrel. As he's largely beholden to Loudmouth Golf, it's not entirely fair either. The company is paying him a lot of money to wear their (looking for a nice word here)...bold pants. Even so, it has to be done for Daly's sake, if nothing else.
The golfer's borderline Hulk Hogan mullet is complemented by a variety of terrible trousers in every imaginable atrocious pattern, from oversized houndstooth to whatever this is.
It's not so much a fashion lesson that Daly needs (he has to know the pants are awful), but a playing lesson. That is, if he were to play better, he wouldn't need to pimp himself out to a manufacturer of clown apparel.
Whether you think the clothes Ryan Moore wears are objectively fashionable or not, I think we can all agree on something: Mr. Moore has put on a bit of weight in the last couple of years and hasn't adjusted his wardrobe accordingly. Every week, his shirts seem tighter and tighter against his growing pot belly, and his sleeves look like they could double as tourniquets.
Then there's the matter of the ties. It hasn't been appropriate to wear a necktie on the golf course since the 1940s. This fact, however, doesn't deter the PGA Tour's resident hipster. (See: Exhibits A, B and C.)
I'm OK with the scruffy beard, as it gives his ever-expanding head some visual interest. Everything else though, from the shinkwrap shirts to the pants so tight they'd make a 14-year-old emo kid jealous, need to go.
The simplest fix for Moore? Ditch the ties, wear clothes that actually come close to fitting and stop shopping exclusively at the Salvation Army Thrift Store.
Looking at Jeff Overton, you get the feeling he was once rail thin. In a plight I have great sympathy for, the Indiana native has put on a bit of weight in his third decade.
However, like his beloved Hoosiers NCAA championship run, all good things must come to an end and often sooner than we'd like. The moment Ovie first realized that he needed to use the next notch up in his white leather belt should have been a wake-up call for the golfer.
Unfortunately, it hasn't seemed to be. Marty Hackel, Golf Digest's "Mr. Style," suggets the "rule of 36": If your waist is more than 36 inches, white belts and white trousers aren't right for you (ditto if you're over age 36).
Overton needs to mind the rule of 36 and go a couple of sizes up in all his shirts. He also needs to never wear these pants again.
Rory Sabbatini has a reputation for being a bit of a...oh, just look at the guy. I'm sure you can infer all you need about his reputation from his Crocodile Dundee headwear, his huge belt buckle and his bright trousers.
The only thing worse than Rory's attitude on a weekly basis is his wardrobe, and that's saying something. Whether he's wearing the cowboy hat or the visor and shellacking his hair with several liters of hairspray, Rory always seems to have trouble dressing his age (37) (cc: Brian Gay).
The lesson for Sabbo (and this extends to far more than just his choice of clothes): Grow up.
Let's get this out of the way first: The hair is awful...really awful. Sneds' mop looks like something you'd see on a four-year-old brat named Milton making a scene in Whole Foods. Alternatively, the cut (or lack thereof) is one you could expect to see on a Trevor who won't stop playing in the dirt at the local park. Snedeker needs a fashion lesson, to be sure, but he also needs a barber.
Beyond this, last year's FedEx Cup champion joins this collection of sartorially suspect golfers as a representative of his blandly dressed brethren on tour (Matt Kuchar, I'm looking at you). The outfit pictured is a fine representation of Snedeker's "style": lots of gray, a belt that doesn't go with the outfit and, of course, his ever-present white visor, which he sports on the course more often than Kultida Woods.
What should he do instead? Well, for one thing, not wear white, which only serves to make him more alarmingly pasty and ghostlike. Additionally, someone needs to introduce Sneds to the other colors in the spectrum beyond gray, tan, pink and blue.