FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME

Golf is a very special game.

It’s an old game. One built on history and tradition, passed from one generation to the next, changing a little each time along the way.

And it should change.

Today, golf feels more alive than it has in years. New people are discovering the game. New voices are shaping its culture. The way we dress, the places we play, even our ideas about what a golf course or golf club can be are evolving.

We love seeing it.

But with all that attention comes something else: hype.

Over the years, people have encouraged us to make RADMOR more “street.” More graphic. More trend-driven. To reach beyond golf in order to reach a bigger audience.

Maybe they’re right.

We’d probably sell more shirts.

But Bob and I didn’t come to golf through fashion.

We came to it through our fathers.

I started playing when I was 11. Bob when he was 13. Like so many people who fall in love with this game, it began simply enough. A few clubs. A few holes. Time spent with our dads.

Then something happened.

We wanted to get better.

So we practiced. And practiced some more.

Junior golf became tournaments. Tournaments became high school golf, national events and eventually college golf. Bob went on to play professionally. Somewhere along the way, without either of us really deciding it, golf became part of who we were.

Nearly four decades later, it still is.

That’s the thing about golf.

For those who truly fall in love with it, the game has a way of staying with you.

Not because it’s fashionable.

Because it’s difficult.

Because no matter how long you play, it never quite lets you have it figured out.

You can spend an entire year trying to become one shot better. You can play beautifully for seventeen holes and have the game remind you, rather abruptly, who is in charge on the eighteenth.

You learn patience.

You learn humility.

You learn to accept bad breaks and appreciate good ones.

You learn that sometimes the difference between where you are and where you want to be is simply the willingness to keep going.

Maybe that’s why so many of us love it.

A GAME THAT KEEPS MOVING

Golf has never really stood still.

Every generation leaves something behind for the next.

Bobby Jones helped define the possibilities of the amateur game. Babe Zaharias challenged assumptions about who belonged in sport. Arnold Palmer brought golf into living rooms. Charlie Sifford broke barriers that should never have existed. Jack Nicklaus changed the standard for greatness. Lee Trevino brought an entirely different spirit to the game. Calvin Peete showed us another way to find excellence. Seve brought imagination. Annika changed expectations. Tiger changed almost everything.

And there were countless others whose names may never be as widely remembered.

Teachers. Caddies. Club professionals. Course superintendents. Architects. Parents taking their children out for nine holes late on a summer afternoon.

People who simply loved the game enough to pass it along.

The courses themselves tell the same story.

Ross. MacKenzie. Tillinghast. Dye. Doak.

Different generations, different philosophies, each interpreting the same game in their own way.

Even the equipment we grew up with—the balata balls and persimmon woods we once thought would be around forever—gave way to something new.

Golf changed.

It always has.

And somehow, through all of it, the essential thing remained untouched.

WHY WE KEEP COMING BACK

Golf has never cared much about who we think we are.

The scorecard certainly doesn’t.

The game asks only that we show up with whatever we have that day.

Some days, that feels like enough.

Others, not even close.

You manage the game in front of you. You make decisions. You take chances. You live with the consequences. You get fortunate bounces and terribly unfair ones.

And then you walk to the next shot.

There is something wonderfully human about that.

Every round begins at even par.

Every first tee offers another chance.

For a few hours, you get to try again.

Maybe you find something.

Maybe you lose something.

Maybe you hit one shot so purely that it brings you back tomorrow.

Golf gives you just enough.

NEARLY FOUR DECADES

Bob and I have now spent nearly forty years with this game.

We’ve hit more golf balls than we could possibly count.

We’ve taped hundreds of blisters and worn through gloves. Driven through the night to tournaments. Stood on ranges pounding balls until there was barely enough light to see the ball land. You just listened.

We learned how to break 90.

Then 80.

Then 70.

Then we learned all over how to do it in competition, when it counts.

We played college golf together. We competed against some of the best: Phil, Tiger, Notah, Duvall, Cink ... the list goes on. We were fortunate enough to play some of the world's most extraordinary courses and often alongside extraordinary players.

We’ve won some, albeit never enough.

Lost plenty.

We’ve stood over putts we desperately wanted to make, but missed, and hit more shots than we can count that we’d happily have back.

And after all these years, we still get excited to play. Not everyday, but every week for sure.

That may be the simplest explanation for why RADMOR exists.

We love this game.

Not some idealized version of it.

The actual game.

The beautiful, frustrating, imperfect game that has given us more friendships, memories, competition, heartbreak, laughter and time with people we love than we could ever begin to measure.

CITIZENS OF THE GAME

When Bob and I started RADMOR, we wanted to build something worthy of the game that had given us so much.

Of course, we make clothes. And we know it's not rocket science and we're not curing cancer. But we care deeply about how those clothes fit, how they perform, what they’re made from and how they make you feel.

Underneath all of that is probably something much simpler.

Gratitude.

Gratitude for a game that has been part of our lives since we were boys.

And a sense of responsibility to leave some small part of it better than we found it.

So we welcome where golf is going.

The new players.

The new ideas.

The new style.

The music. The sneakers. The hoodies. The old persimmons. The new technology.

There is room for all of it.

Because golf has never belonged to one generation.

We simply get to carry it for a while.

And if you love the game ... however you found it, wherever you play it, whatever you wear while doing it ... then you understand.

You’re one of us.

A Citizen of the Game.

And we’re glad we met you. Welcome to RADMOR.

Scott Morrison
Co-Founder, RADMOR