48 hours: Tiger all alone prowling the catwalk

Golfers are amazing. Fame and fortune are at their feet. Millions around the world watch and hang on their every swing.

Some have film idol looks.

They are on the covers of magazines and are the envy of rock stars, movie stars, presidents and other sports stars because everyone wants to be able to play golf.

And despite all this, despite the adoration and adulation, they dress like American tourists or circus clowns.

It's been difficult in one sense watching the Masters over the weekend, difficult because it caught the eye of my Nearest and Dearest, who has been groaning with every shot - every shot of another badly dressed golfer coming into view, that is.

Some have escaped her despairing comments.

Apparently Tiger Woods - compared with most of the rest of the field - is virtually catwalk material. But only compared to the rest of the field.

Phil Mickelson also got a warm commendation.

"He hasn't got any flair," she announced, "but at least it's not offensive."

But Vijay Singh had way too much sponsorship on his visor, and Thomas Bjorn looked like a "red lid on a pair of trousers".

Chris DiMarco's red shirt with an orange collar was fashion homicide.

As for the caddies in white boiler suits ... and I quote: "Flabbergasted".

I'll agree in regards to the caddies. I'm all for blokes dressing like that if there's a nuclear leak in the neighbourhood.

But in this case the suits are uncomfortably servile - a reminder of when the players at Augusta were white and the caddies were black.

But back to the present.

What some people don't understand is that dressing like a popsicle is traditional in golf.

"It's like a universal language of the game," I explain to the N and D, while mounting a defence for the indefensible - namely the walking tablecloth that is Darren Clarke.

"Whether you come from America, Korea, England or New Zealand, you dress like you've won a grab-what-you-like competition at an op shop.

It draws everyone together, puts them on common ground."

The real reason, of course, is that most casual golfers rely on leftovers - you just grab whatever garb happens to be lying at the bottom of the drawer.

And if there is any spare cash, you start saving for a putter that doesn't act like it's drunk or for a driver that behaves.

But since your specialty shot is landing revolutionary $10 golf balls in the middle of lakes, there's never any spare cash anyway. Co-ordinated clothing doesn't get a look-in.

But why do millionaire golfers dress like THAT? After all, they could afford to buy a fashion store, not just shop there.

Yet, whereas other sports stars like basketballers exude cool, golfers have always seemed to exude fool.

Among the modern bunch, Europeans Clarke, Jesper Parnevik and Ian Poulter appear to have stepped out of a disco time warp, or the circus.

There was even one completely new look at these Masters. Leading amateur Ryan Moore looked as though he'd been dressed by General Norman "Stormin" Schwarzkopf.

Still, in their defence, the modern golfer has had very dodgy role models.

Poulter's dress idol was the late Payne Stewart, who wore plus fours and a tam-o'shanter cap, which helped him win majors but very few admirers in places like Milan and Paris.

And golf history is littered with other wonky dressers.

Gary Player - the great South African - has had a series of mad fads, including dressing completely in white to reflect the sun's heat and also in total black to absorb the rays to keep his body supple.

In the 1959 British Open, he turned up in trousers that had one black leg and one white - which presumably put his legs in a very confused state.

At least Player had a theory.

Which is more than you could say for the legendary Jack Nicklaus, who played one round over the weekend wearing the colours of an American hot dog - a bright red jersey over a yellow-collared shirt.

Maybe it would have worked nicely with a frankfurter-coloured hat.

But Jack chose a blue topping for his tomato sauce-and-mustard look.

This sort of colour mismatch had its golf heyday in the 1980s, which led to more conservative golf gear in the 1990s. Maybe Clarke and co are reacting to that.

But the latest Masters continues a trend - despite their whacky efforts, golfers just aren't trendy.