TL;DR: I have 8 pairs of golf shoes and counting. From Masters-themed Adidas to torture-device FootJoys. Is this a problem? Probably. Am I stopping? No.
Related: Ping G440 irons | Blue Tees Player+
Let me start with a confession: I own more golf shoes than I own everyday sneakers.
Actually, that's not quite right. Let me be more precise: I almost own more golf shoes than regular sneakers. And if I buy the Adidas Sambas I've been eyeing for the past week—or worse, the G/Fores I've been pretending I can afford—I'll officially cross that threshold.
I don't know when this happened. I don't know why this happened. I'm a 21 handicap who plays maybe twice a week. I don't need five pairs of golf shoes. Tiger Woods probably doesn't own five pairs of golf shoes. (Actually, he probably owns fifty, but Nike sends them to him for free, so that doesn't count.)
And yet, here I am, browsing golf shoe websites at 11 PM on a Tuesday, wondering if the green Sambas would clash with my navy golf pants—and whether I can hide a $225 G/Fore purchase from my wife so that she doesn't use it as an excuse to by more shoes of her own.
Something is wrong with me. Let me explain.
The Collection (Such As It Is)
Here's what's currently in my golf shoe rotation:
1. The Masters Shoes: Adidas SuperStars (Green and Yellow)
These are the crown jewels. The shoes I wear exactly once a year—during Masters week—because I'm the kind of person who needs themed footwear for a golf tournament I'm watching on television.
They're green and yellow. Augusta colors. They look ridiculous and I love them.
Do they perform well? Honestly, I have no idea. I've worn them maybe six times total. But when I walk into River Creek Club during Masters week, people notice. They either think I'm a superfan or a lunatic. Both are accurate.
2. The Daily Drivers: Puma PHANTOMCAT NITRO
These are my workhorses. The shoes I grab when I don't want to think about what I'm wearing.
The PHANTOMCAT NITROs are legitimately great. The NITRO foam midsole has nitrogen infused into it, which sounds like marketing nonsense until you wear them for 18 holes and your feet don't hurt. The FLEXSPIKE technology gives you traction without feeling like you're wearing baseball cleats. Rickie Fowler wears these on tour, and while Rickie and I have nothing else in common, we agree on footwear.
They were comfortable out of the box—no break-in period. The toe box is roomy enough for my wide feet. They're waterproof. If I could only own one pair of golf shoes, these would be it.
But I don't own one pair. I own five. So here we are.
3. The Summer Walker: Puma PTC HELSINKI G Spikeless
These are my summer "fun" shoes. The ones I wear on a hot day when I want something sporty. Or when I want to feel like I should be walking the course even though I'll be driving the cart with 6 beers in the cooler.
The Helsinki Gs are spikeless, which I was skeptical about until I realized I don't swing hard enough to need aggressive traction. They're sleek, minimal, and look good with everything. They transition from course to clubhouse without screaming "I just played golf."
I probably wear these more than any other pair, which means I should own fewer shoes, not more. But logic has no place in this conversation.
4. The Mistake: FootJoy (Model Unknown, Pain Level: High)
Every golfer has a pair of shoes they regret. These are mine.
I bought them on sale online. They turned out to be a half a size too small, but I convinced myself they would "stretch out." They did not stretch out. They are instruments of torture disguised as golf footwear.
By the third hole, my pinky toes are screaming. By the ninth, I'm walking like I've been hiking for days. I have never finished a round in these shoes without blisters.
Why do I still own them? Because I paid good money for them, and throwing them away would mean admitting defeat. They sit in my club locker just in case, judging me, a monument to my inability to accept that I'm a size 10.5, not a 10.
The Wish List (aka The Problem Gets Worse)
Here's where my shoe obsession crosses from "quirky hobby" into "potential intervention territory." These are the shoes I don't own yet—but think about constantly.
The One I'll Probably Buy: Adidas Samba Spikeless Golf Shoes (~$150)
The Sambas are iconic. The silhouette is perfect—classic sneaker vibes with just enough golf functionality to justify wearing them on the course. They come in a green colorway that would look incredible. They're the kind of shoe that makes people ask, "Wait, those are golf shoes?"
Here's what the reviews say: they run narrow, the cushioning is firm, the tongue can dig into your shin, and they're not great in wet conditions. One reviewer said they got blisters by the third hole.
Here's what my brain says: But they look so cool.
I've been on the Adidas website four times this week. I've added them to my cart twice. I've closed the browser three times. I am losing this battle.
The Aspirational Flex: G/Fore MEN'S G.112 Golf Shoe (~$225)
Now we're entering dangerous territory.
G/Fore is the brand for people who want their golf shoes to look like they cost more than their driver. The G.112 is their "street-inspired" model, which means it looks like something you'd find in a high-end sneaker boutique, not a pro shop.
The reviews are absurd. One called it "an 18-hole massage for your feet." Another said it was like "walking on clouds made of money." The traction is supposedly excellent—they have these aggressive little mini-spikes all over the outsole that grip like nothing else.
Here's the problem: they're $225. For golf shoes. That I would wear maybe 5 times a year. That's over $45 per wear. That's insane.
And yet.
I've looked at the navy blue colorway at least a dozen times. I've zoomed in on the product photos. I've read reviews from people who say they're "worth every penny" and wondered if those people have different pennies than I do.
If I ever break 90 consistently, I'm buying these as a reward. That's what I tell myself. It's a good system because it means I'll probably never have to make the decision.
The Country Club Fantasy: Peter Millar Drift Hybrid Course Shoe (~$200+)
And then there's Peter Millar.
Peter Millar is the brand for people who summer as a verb. Their clothes are what you wear when your golf club has a "no denim" policy and you're fine with that. Their shoes are no different.
The Drift Hybrid is beautiful. Supple leather upper. Suede accents. Water-resistant. A knubbed outsole that works on the course but looks refined enough for the clubhouse bar afterward. Every review mentions how they look "just as good off-course"—which is code for "you can wear these to brunch and pretend you didn't just shoot 97."
They're rated 5 out of 5 stars. Reviewers say things like "terrific weight" and "looking down at it is pleasing." One person wrote "expensive but if you're shopping PM I guess you expect that," which is the most Peter Millar sentence ever written.
I don't belong in Peter Millar shoes. My game doesn't deserve Peter Millar shoes. But sometimes I open the website, look at the "Mako Blue" colorway, and imagine a version of myself who does.
That version of me has a single-digit handicap and doesn't three-putt from 12 feet.
Why Do I Keep Buying (and Wanting) Golf Shoes?
I've thought about this more than a grown man should think about footwear. Here's what I've come up with:
1. Golf shoes are the easiest way to feel like you're improving. New driver? That's a $500+ commitment, and you might hit it worse. New irons? Same problem, bigger price tag. But new shoes? Instant satisfaction. You look down, see fresh kicks, and feel 10% more like a golfer. Your swing is still terrible, but your feet look great.
2. They're functional fashion. I'm not a clothes guy. I wear the same three shirts in rotation. But golf shoes? Golf shoes are an acceptable outlet for whatever fashion impulse I've been suppressing. Green and yellow for Masters week. Sleek black for the nice course. Retro Sambas for the "I'm not trying too hard but I'm definitely trying" look. G/Fores for... honestly, just to feel fancy.
3. Each pair has a purpose (allegedly). This is the lie I tell myself. The Masters shoes are for Masters week. The PHANTOMCATs are for wet days and everyday rounds. The Helsinkis are for those hot summer days. The Sambas will be for casual summer rounds. The Peter Millars will be for when I finally get good. The G/Fores will be for when I win the lottery.
The truth is, I could play every round for the rest of my life in one pair of shoes and nothing would change about my game. But where's the fun in that?
4. Golf shoes don't require me to swing better. The HackMotion tells me my wrist is cupped. My Arccos data tells me I'm losing strokes on approach shots. My GOLFTEC coach tells me to stop coming over the top. Everyone has opinions about my swing.
But no one critiques my shoe selection. (Except my wife, who has started asking "Do you really need those?" with increasing frequency and decreasing patience.)
Buying shoes is the one part of golf where I can succeed without practicing.
Am I Alone in This?
I asked my playing partners if they had a golf shoe problem. One guy owns two pairs. Another owns one. They looked at me like I'd asked if they collect antique doorknobs.
So either I'm uniquely afflicted, or the rest of the world is hiding their shoe obsession better than I am.
I choose to believe it's the latter.
The Verdict (On Myself)
Is there something wrong with me? Probably. Do I need eight pairs of golf shoes? Absolutely not. Will I buy at least two more pair this year?
Almost certainly.
Here's the thing: golf is hard. Really hard. I shoot in the mid-90s on a good day. I chunk irons, slice drives, and three-putt from distances that should be illegal. Most of the time, this game makes me question my life choices.
But when I lace up a fresh pair of shoes—when I look down and see something that makes me feel like I belong on a golf course—I get a tiny hit of joy that has nothing to do with my handicap.
Is that worth $150? $200? $225 for G/Fores that I'll wear while shooting 94?
My wife would say no. My accountant would say no. My closet, which is running out of space, would definitely say no.
But I would say yes.
So if you need me, I'll be browsing three websites simultaneously—Adidas, G/Fore, and Peter Millar—trying to decide which shoes I definitely don't need but will probably buy anyway.
It's a sickness. But at least my feet will look great.
– Jason
The Puma PHANTOMCAT NITRO is available at pumagolf.com—it's the only shoe in my collection I'd recommend without reservation. The rest are choices. Beautiful, unnecessary, wonderful choices.