In 2014, the intersection between fashion and sports is at an all-time high. Whether Victor Cruz is salsa dancing at the Met Gala or Russell Westbrook is descending unto earth in a metallic tank top from whatever fucking planet he's from, athletes are trying harder than ever to make a splash in the world of menswear. And, let's be real, they're fucking sucking at it for the most part. But sucking badly at something has never stopped anyone before and it's not stopping a bunch of dudes who just got paid millions of dollars to professionally attempt to murder each other, not even a little bit. Last night, a new crop of future NFL stars (okay, that's highly unlikely) turned out to Radio City Music Hall in their best alphets as they waited to hear their name called by supreme concussion overlord Roger Goodell. Across the board, it was a showcase of what not to do thanks to the worst of the worst Men's Wearhouse and Sean John fuckery.