I’ll never, for the life of me, understand why coaches are regulated to the attire they wear.

For example, football coaches are often in some variation of khakis, polo/windbreaker and a hat/visor. Why? Who knows. And why is it the norm for basketball or hockey coaches to be in full suits while baseball managers are in full uniform? Who decided these things and what rule says they have to follow them?

Granted, there are exceptions. While there’s someone who elevates sideline fashion like Villanova’s Jay Wright, West Virginia basketball coach Bob Huggins dresses like a football coach and has practically built his entire brand on that (winning a few games helps).

Then there’s Buzz Williams and Bruce Pearl.

They dress like basketball coaches, yes, but they sweat like they just completed an Ironman in the Sahara Desert.

In case you missed this image that surfaced before Auburn and Texas A&M faced off, I apologize because you can’t un-see it:

Williams and Pearl are far from the only basketball coaches who sweat through suits. Nobody has that “I was pushed into the pool” look quite like Arizona coach Sean Miller. He’s the Herschel Walker of sweaty coaches. Every time you see him sopping in sweat, it takes your breath away:

God bless the local dry cleaners who have to handle the aftermath of those suits. Those people are true heroes.

The thing I continue to wonder is “why.” Why have those coaches — among others — not all collectively met and said, “hey, guys. Why don’t we start treating every day like the Maui Invitational and go for comfort over style. Tommy Bahama can sure use our business.” Shoot, they could even go the Huggins route and sweat in something that’s meant to be sweated in.

Instead, they repeatedly opt to look like Michael Scott after he fell into the Koi pond.

It’s madness. Pure madness. And yes, I do think that they’re getting sweatier as the NCAA Tournament nears. Williams is in must-win mode while Pearl is trying to avoid the 2018 late-season tumble that saw his team’s Final Four hopes vanish like a dry spot on his Oxford.

Obviously Pearl and Williams want to look good on TV. If they had it their way, they wouldn’t have $5,000 suits look like they were used in the “Ice Bucket Challenge” (there’s a solid reference from 6 years ago). Then again, maybe they would?

At this point, I think this is all about their brand. Williams wears a 3-piece suit knowing that he’s going to be soaked, and dare I say, it makes him stand out. He looks more intense. Watch how many times the camera comes on him during a game because of how intense he looks. It’s insane. The same could be said for Pearl, who doesn’t dress as nice as the first-year Texas A&M coach, but he totally embraces his brand as the maniac who coaches an up-tempo style and doesn’t slow down until the final buzzer.

Here’s the thing. It’s 2020. There are ways to combat some of that sweating if they really wanted to. Go ask the College GameDay crew how they don’t lose 8 pounds worth of sweat wearing full suits when they have an early-September show in Austin.

If Williams, Pearl and Miller truly were embarrassed by looking that sweaty on national TV, I think they would’ve done something about it by now. And for what it’s worth, all of them have won a ton of basketball games that way. Pearl is coming off a Final Four berth and Williams is one of the favorites to win SEC Coach of the Year. Obviously, something is working and they don’t want to change it.

I guess it’s like the old saying goes — sweat is just pain leaving the body … until it goes all over an expensive suit for the audience to grimace at.

A classic Ed Orgeron story

Speaking of intense coaches, it’s not news that Orgeron doesn’t mess around when it comes to recruiting. The story of him recruiting Joe Burrow and calling for a special order of crawfish during his official visit went viral. For every “Hold that Tiger!” there’s often a unique recruiting story involving the LSU coach.

It came as no surprise when former LSU linebacker K’Lavon Chaisson told this story at the NFL Combine over the weekend about his recruitment (via Pro Football Talk):

“I was gonna take my talents to Texas, and (Orgeron) kinda wasn’t having that,” Chaisson said. “He set up a home visit. I was on my way to Florida for an official visit and I was like, ‘Coach, we don’t have time for a home visit, because I’m about to head out.’ He showed up at our house at 4 in the morning, knocking on the door while everybody was asleep. He made it so he got his visit in.”

“He literally followed me to the airport and walked me all the way through TSA and was like, ‘Bro, we got to have you. Please. I know what to do with you.’”

Can you picture what that was like for Chaisson and his family? Of all the people who could knock on the door at 4 a.m., how many would you be willing to open the door for? That list is short, but I’d say Orgeron makes the cut.

The image of Orgeron following a recruit all the way through TSA is one that I can easily picture. He’s walking stride-for-stride with Chaisson telling him, “wait until you experience Tigah Stadium at night. It’ll make you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt.” Meanwhile, the TSA agent is like, “Sir, you cannot have 4 cans of Red Bull in your pockets.”

This also confirms the theory that Orgeron doesn’t sleep. He just hops on the elliptical for a couple hours and patiently waits until morning, or he goes to a recruit’s house in the middle of the night. I can’t imagine he slept very much after he got the LSU job, which was when all of this went down. Chaisson committed to Orgeron less than a week after that 4 a.m. knock on the door.

And as Orgeron promised, he did know exactly what to do with Chaisson. He’s projected as a mid-1st round pick after a career that ended with him earning first-team All-SEC honors with a Peach Bowl Defensive MVP honor and a national championship ring.

I’d say it was a wise move to answer the door for the crazy Cajun.