Golf has known some spectacularly ballsy style showboats in its history. Just think of the set of Srixons Payne Stewart was packing to step onto the tee box the way he did. Then consider Rickie Fowler, the walking Jelly Belly, the Picasso of polos, the one-man rainbow coalition. In an issue devoted to off-course flair, he reminds us that GIR—glam in regulation—still counts most.
2010: By the end of his first full season, Rickie was as synonymous with orange as Cheez Doodles, traffic cones and Circus Peanuts.
2011: Solid play in his sophomore year earned the Riddler some solid green—but not quite enough to afford a lid that fit.
2013: By ’13, Rickie had tightened up his slacks. Alas, his swing tightened up a bit, too. Here’s proof a guy can be a little down and in the pink.
2014: The ears appear! And old-fashioned firepower. In the run-up to his best year yet, Rickie rocked the knickerbockers. No Payne, no gain.
2017: A little dull, right? Until you eyeball those…what exactly do you call those things on his feet? So bold. So daring. So Rickie!
