We round-up the sharpest anchormen around.

On Friday 5 August 1921, Pittsburgh radio station KDKA became the first to broadcast a sporting event, a day baseball game between the Philadelphia Phillies and the Pittsburgh Pirates. Narrating the events was Mr Harold Arlin, a pioneer nicknamed the “Voice of America”, and considered to be the first full-time salaried radio announcer. Publicity photos from the era show him kitted out in a full tuxedo, which to modern eyes seems like a bit of sartorial overkill for a non-visual medium.

Nonetheless, the standard was set. Henceforth, sportscasters would wear jackets and ties. (In more recent times, one can occasionally spy a polo shirt and other more casual attire in the broadcast booth, but such moments remain the exception rather than the rule.) Given its simplicity, it would seem a difficult uniform to mess up, and yet one only need watch this weekend’s return of Fox NFL Sunday to learn otherwise. There, you will see lapels that are too large (or too small). You will see bedsheet-sized pocket squares. You will see paisley on a scale not witnessed since the heyday of Haight-Ashbury.

So when a sportscaster manages to get it right, with that elusive mix of sartorial panache and a raconteur’s gift of gab, we feel duty-bound to sing his praises. Here, we present the most stylish broadcasters of all-time. The men who dress to impress, even though they know all eyes are on the field.

One does not quickly connect recently-retired Los Angeles Dodgers broadcaster with Mr Tom Ford. And yet Mr Scully embodied the fashion designer’s famous adage that “dressing well is a form of good manners”. Mr Scully’s dignified, unfussy style of dress helped amplify his gracious demeanor, a man who boldly embraced Mr Jackie Robinson and could tell a story as well as anyone who ever sat in the booth. His well-tailored suits exuded respect for his audience, a recognition that – like his contemporary, Mr Johnny Carson – he was our host for the evening. And whether the year was 1950 (when he started with the Dodgers) or 2016 (when he hung up his microphone), to spend an evening with Mr Scully was to spend it with a gentleman, in every sense of the word.

With a jawline out of Hollywood (and the occasional personal scandal to match), Mr Frank Gifford oozed charm that few broadcasters could match, and a credibility based on his days leading the New York Giants to NFL Championships. During this period, he ran with fellow New York sporting icons Mr Joe DiMaggio and Mr Mickey Mantle, and even inspired a “fictional memoir”, Mr Frederick Exley’s 1968 cult novel, A Fan’s Notes. But he’s best remembered for his swagger in the broadcast booth, particularly on Monday Night Football. Look at a photo of him with Mr Howard Cosell, and you will understand the way clothes both do and do not make the man. Each of them wears ABC’s uniform of a cream blazer, but only one looks like a guy who knows how to wear it. (Hint: it ain’t Mr Cosell.)

As the recent bout between Mr Floyd Mayweather and Mr Conor McGregor definitively proved, boxing’s era of glamour has long since passed. Few had a better seat for it than Mr Carpenter, who, as the BBC’s “voice of boxing,” sat ringside from 1949 to 1994. In later years, he adopted a tweedy look, but in his younger days he looked very dashing, favouring the dark suits and skinny ties of the early 1960s. And throughout his career, he maintained a certain integrity, balancing his love of the sweet science with a respect for the pain the fighters were going for – on at least one occasion, he used his broadcast to desperately urge a fight be stopped.

When Mr Warren Beatty was casting the protagonist for his adaptation of Heaven Can Wait, he chose Mr Muhammad Ali. But Mr Ali was busy. (Something about boxing, it turns out.) So Mr Beatty repositioned the film to be about a football player, not a boxer, and cast himself in the lead. When casting the sportscaster who interviews him after his character wins the Super Bowl he went with Mr Dick Enberg. And for good reason: the man is a study in how one should dress when one is not the centre of attention. (Quietly, with a proper fit.) That said, Mr Beatty apparently thought Mr Enberg had a leading man quality. Years later, he sent Mr Enberg a note joking that “If you’d stuck with it, you would’ve been bigger than Brando.”

Sometimes style is a matter of what you choose not to wear. Consider Mr Cross, who in 1975 had already become the first African-American sports analyst on national television, and was about to join the team at NFL Today on CBS. According to a profile in Sports Illustrated, the network was not, to use a 2017 word, particularly woke. “CBS wanted him to dress for the show in a leisure suit with his shirt open halfway down his chest and a gold chain around his neck,” the magazine wrote in 1996. He refused. “I was supposed to be the sex symbol,” he told Sports Illustrated. “I wore a coat and tie. That was me.” We applaud Mr Cross’s choice to instead wear a prep-with-a-twist wardrobe of button-down collars, foulard ties and the occasional dark trenchcoat.

Keep up to date with The Daily by signing up to our weekly email roundup. Click here to update your email preferences