Rory Sabbatini

By Jaime Diaz
Photo By Getty Images November 2007

Rory Sabbatini could stand some work on his first impression.

It starts with the walk. Built like a bouncer, Sabbatini leans into a fairway with his head high, his wide back forcing his thick arms to hang outward like a gunfighter packing holstered heat. "Oh, man, nobody walks like Rory," says Rich Beem. "Well, maybe a rooster."

It continues with the clothes. Usually bright and always tight, Sabbatini's outfits are in-variably dominated by shining-silver, pirate-skull belt buckles that form a desperate clash of golf and goth. "No," says Marty Hackel, this magazine's Mr. Style.

Finally, there's the game face. Sabbatini's eyes are narrowed and set close on a broad face, and his jaw muscles are either working a wad of Nicorette or a lower lip with chew. A poor shot or missed putt routinely elicits a glower that looks as if it could easily advance to a trembling, exploding head. The Sabbatini grimace, meanwhile, is the closest match on his person to the scary belt buckles. At the Barclays in August, CBS replayed it in slow motion, its culmination described by Gary McCord as "granny face."

When all the parts work together, the effect can be unsettling. The most infamous example, of course, occurred when Sabbatini, paired with Ben Crane during the final round of the 2005 Booz Allen, became so fed up with Crane's slow play that he stomped some 200 yards to the back of the 17th green and waited -- seething -- for the puzzled (and in-contention) Crane to hit his approach. Describing Sabbatini's behavior, then-commentator Paul Azinger observed, "He's gone psycho."

Largely because of that overreaction to the glacial but popular Crane, Sabbatini was voted least favorite player to be paired with in a poll of tour players. So in May of this year, when Sabbatini defiantly emerged from being dusted by Tiger Woods in the final group at the Wachovia with the suggestion that the world No. 1 was "more beatable than ever" and that he preferred playing against "the new Tiger" -- veritable trash talking relative to the sport and certainly the notoriously avenging target -- Sabbatini had little credibility and no political capital. Though he gained a bit of both after he won at Colonial three weeks later, declaring that "my goal is to go to the top of the World Ranking, and I'm not going to let anything stop me," Sabbatini basically used it all up with more brashness on the eve of taking a one-stroke lead into another final-round pairing with Woods at Firestone in August.

Asked if he thought he'd put a target on his back by saying he wanted the pairing, Sabbatini said, "Oh, I'm sure it does. But hey, Tiger has got a target on him every week. Maybe I'm just getting a little taste of what it's like to be No. 1."

The next day it was 65 to 74, with Sabbatini making things worse for himself by petulantly asking that a fan be removed for calling out, "Hey, Rory: Still think Tiger's beatable?" moments after Sabbatini had made a double bogey. Instead of getting underdog support, or even the admiration usually bestowed on scrappers willing to put themselves on the line, Sabbatini became a cartoonish Anti-Tiger who could dish it out but didn't know how to take it. Having been spanked, he was figuratively sentenced to Bigmouth Island to join fellow exiles Terrell Owens, Tony Stewart and Bode Miller. "Everyone knows how Rory is," said Woods in a not-so-cryptic summary.

To his peers, the subject of Sabbatini became radioactive. When Ernie Els was asked if Sabbatini's older brother, whom Els had grown up playing against in South Africa, was like Rory, Els warily answered, "What do you mean?" Normally voluble Steve Flesch took a pass -- "I'm not going to say a word" -- and Tim Clark, who has known Sabbatini since childhood, asked for some time to think about his answer. "It's a delicate subject," he said. In website chat rooms, of course, there was no hesitation. "Rory's an idiot," was a typical post on TheSandTrap.com. "Spit out your gum. Learn how to dress. Shut your pie hole."

Hopefully for Sabbatini, first impressions aren't permanent. The same guy who sometimes jaws with feisty fans unfailingly signs autographs, usually leaving recipients with a "There you go, buddy." He has donated huge sums to charities, in particular the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund for soldiers and their families. He's known for picking up dinner checks, and on the day the iPhone was introduced, Sabbatini bought several to give to friends, including fellow pro Ted Purdy. "That kind of thing just doesn't happen among players," says Purdy. "But if Rory is your friend, he's really your friend." After Sabbatini's wife, Amy, idly mused how much she likes vintage Mini Coopers, Rory surprised her by purchasing a restored 1974 model on eBay and having it delivered at Westchester.

"He might have a bad-boy image, but for me he's kind of a Boy Scout," says Amy, a Texan who says her husband of five years has an affinity for home decorating, gift wrapping and even "crystallizing" her shoes. "I always call him 'West Hollywood.' He just surprises you that way, and it's why his friends and family feel he's so misunderstood."

"I always tell my kids, 'Just because you watch someone play golf doesn't mean you know what they're like,' " says Davis Love III, who, like Sabbatini, stays in a tricked-out motor home next to the host course during tournaments. "Rory's a classic that way. All the families that live in buses become like a neighborhood, and Rory's the friendliest, most helpful guy on the block."

Indeed, cooling out around his grill after the pro-am of the Deutsche Bank Championship with Amy and their two children, Harley, 4, and Tylie, 2, Sabbatini is relaxed and funny, laughing about the inordinate number of letters he gets from prison inmates and recounting -- with a sly look at his wife -- being introduced to his then future father-in-law, Joe Meyer. "The first three words he ever said to me," Rory says, "were 'Run like hell.' " Even when he's in a good mood, Sabbatini has an outsized personality: his voice loud, his opinions forceful, his gestures demonstrative, his needle-oriented humor sharp. It's a big part of the reason he's considered a difficult player to be paired with. "Most tour players like serenity and calmness when they play competitive rounds," says Dean Reinmuth, Sabbatini's former swing coach. "Rory's natural way is a bit too jarring for a lot of them, like a bull in a china shop."