The Evolution of Coaches’ Attire in March Madness: Suits vs. Sweatsuits

Suit (no tie), School Sweatsuit, or Full Suit?

The 2025 March Madness tournament has brought more than just buzzer-beaters and bracket-busting upsets—it’s reignited a subtle yet noticeable debate about what coaches wear on the sidelines. Some pace the court in tailored suits, exuding tradition and professionalism, while others opt for school-logo sweatsuits or polos, prioritizing comfort and practicality. This sartorial split has sparked chatter among fans and analysts alike, reflecting a broader shift in college basketball culture.

A Tradition in Transition

Historically, suits were the unwritten uniform for college basketball coaches, a nod to the game’s formal roots and a sign of respect for its stakes. Legends like Dean Smith and John Wooden set the tone, their crisp attire mirroring the discipline they demanded on the court. But the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted this norm. With games played in empty arenas or controlled bubbles starting in 2020, the need for formal wear faded. Coaches swapped suits for school-branded gear—sweatsuits, quarter-zips, and polos—finding them more comfortable and less of a logistical hassle. Dry-cleaning suits posed health concerns, and sideline duties like crouching in huddles or gesturing wildly felt less constrained in casual attire.

This shift didn’t vanish post-pandemic. By March Madness 2025, the casual trend has taken firm root. Kansas coach Bill Self, a two-time national champion, has hinted he might never return to suits, saying he enjoys the relaxed fit of his current wardrobe. West Virginia’s Bob Huggins, a longtime advocate for ditching formalwear, once quipped, “We’re not bankers—we’re ball coaches,” a sentiment echoing louder each year.

The Holdouts and the Highlights

Not everyone’s on board with the casual wave. In this year’s tournament, only 16 of the 68 head coaches wore suits during their opening games, a stark contrast to the sweatsuit majority. Among the holdouts are style icons like Rick Pitino and John Calipari, whose sartorial choices stand out in a sea of logos and fleece. Pitino, coaching St. John’s, remains a poster child for sideline elegance, while Calipari, now at Arkansas, keeps the tradition alive with a playful edge—before a recent game, he teased Pitino, “I was gonna wear a tie…” Their commitment to suits has fans reminiscing about the days when every coach dressed like they were headed to a boardroom.

Social media, particularly posts on X, captures the divide. Some fans laud the suits for lending college basketball a distinct gravitas, setting it apart from the NBA’s laid-back vibe. “Suits make March Madness feel big,” one user wrote. Others argue the focus should stay on the players, not the coaches’ closets. “Sweatsuits are fine—who cares? It’s about the game,” another countered.

Practicality Meets Personal Choice

The NCAA has no formal dress code mandating suits, leaving attire up to individual coaches or conference preferences. During the pandemic, leagues like the ACC and Big Ten standardized casual wear for consistency, a decision that’s influenced broader trends. For many, the switch is pragmatic—suits are hot, restrictive, and high-maintenance, while sweatsuits align with the active, hands-on nature of coaching. Plus, school-branded gear doubles as free advertising, a bonus for athletic departments.

Yet the debate isn’t just about logistics; it’s about identity. Suits carry a sense of occasion, fitting for a tournament where legacies are forged. Casual wear, meanwhile, reflects a modern, player-centric approach—coaches blending in rather than standing apart. As one X user put it, “Sweatsuits say ‘I’m here to work,’ suits say ‘I’m here to win.’”

The Verdict?

March Madness 2025 showcases both sides: the traditionalists in their pressed jackets and the pragmatists in their branded fleece. Neither seems likely to fully sway the other. For every Pitino strutting in a suit, there’s a Self pacing comfortably in a polo. The conversation blends nostalgia, practicality, and personal flair—much like the tournament itself. Whether it’s a three-piece or a tracksuit, the real test remains on the court, not the clothing rack. Still, as brackets break and Cinderellas rise, the sideline fashion debate adds a stylish subplot to the madness.