Opinion & Analysis
The Wedge Guy: Industry insight – Birth of an idea

A GolfWRX reader wrote me the other day to ask how I got into the design and specialization in wedges, so I thought I would share this story with you all. I hope you find it interesting.
As most of you know, I’ve been in the golf equipment industry for almost 40 years. I actually started out on the marketing side but evolved into a club designer as well, as my tinkerer personality and habits began to manifest. My marketing background actually serves my club design work, because all impactful product development springs from an awareness of a genuine consumer problem or opportunity, whether it’s a golf club or an iPod.
As for that tinkerer personality, I was the kid who always took my toys apart to see how they worked and then put them back together—hopefully, so that they would work again. That mechanical curiosity was nurtured by my patient father, who entertained all my questions as we took apart our fishing reels, shotguns, etc. to clean and maintain them.
When I became involved in the golf industry, I spent an inordinate amount of time in the back end of Ray Cook and Otey Crisman putters, Joe Powell Golf, and others, as I was completely fascinated with how and why golf clubs worked. You see, I don’t remember life before golf–another gift from my father. He and our local golf pro nurtured my commitment and curiosity about the golf swing and the game while mentoring me to become a scratch golfer.
Anyway, that curiosity and imagination led me to my first original putter design in the mid-1980s and then over a hundred more putter designs in the years following.
But it was a golf trip to Scotland in 1990 that triggered my interest in wedges. My brother and I had played the New Course at St. Andrews our first day there and the tight lies and firm turf proved challenging with my then-new “brand X” sand wedge.
As we were touring Auchterlonie’s Golf Shop the next morning, I saw a grinding wheel and an idea just came to me. I asked if I could come back with a wedge to grind on it some, to which they said OK.
So, I went back to the hotel and got my conventional sand wedge – this was long before all these diverse grind options were available. I don’t think wedges even had a bounce designation on them at the time.
Anyway, I proceeded to grind away on the trailing part of the sole until I had reduced the bounce by probably half. I wasn’t really measuring as much as eyeballing. Then–and why this idea hit me, I’m not sure–I proceeded to grind the leading 1/4 or so of the sole to create a very aggressive bounce in the range of 20-25 degrees. In fact, I ground almost all the way up to the first groove, making the wedge look very odd.
By this time, the wedge was butchered pretty good, as I was not a trained grinder by any stretch of the imagination. So, I then ground more off the bottom of the hosel and in the heel to make it as visually palatable as I could. By the time it got to looking reasonable, of course, I had compromised the head weight dramatically.
So, I bought or borrowed some lead tape from the shop and proceeded to pack the back of the wedge to bring it back up to D4-5, as I remember.
And the results were very gratifying. Hardpan to bunkers, soft lie to rough—this thing was odd-looking, but amazing. My brother and I took turns with my wedge the rest of the trip – from Carnoustie to The Old Course, Turnberry, and Troon. He even nicknamed it “Quasimodo,” after the character in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. We were both extremely excited about what I had created in the back of the shop in “The Old Grey Toon,” as St. Andrews is often called.
So, when I returned to the states, I bought several conventional sand wedges out of the bargain barrels and began to experiment–this time in a bit more sophisticated manner. I found a welder who would add material onto the soles and purchased a grinder so that I could try different grinds. Each time, I would take them out for testing by myself and by some very good players I knew. But I also had mid- to high-handicap players testing, and they were even more enthused than the scratch players and pros in my test group.
[NOTE: That’s when also began to realize there was a big difference in the wants and needs from wedges between the better players and those not so advanced]
And that was how “the Koehler Sole” was invented.
After three years of legal work, in 1994 I was awarded U.S. Patent #5,301,944 for incorporating two positive bounce angles into the sole of a club. And I have incorporated that feature into every wedge I’ve ever designed, from Merit Golf to EIDOLON to SCOR to Ben Hogan, and now for Edison Golf. It’s been called the “Dual Bounce Sole™” and the “V-Sole®”, but each iteration has been an improvement on the one before, and it has earned a pretty loyal following through those brands.
I should add that along this journey, I also began to dramatically increase the mass in the top half of the wedge as well.
But that’s another story I am happy to tell if you are interested.
Opinion & Analysis
The 2 primary challenges golf equipment companies face

As the editor-in-chief of this website and an observer of the GolfWRX forums and other online golf equipment discourse for over a decade, I’m pretty well attuned to the grunts and grumbles of a significant portion of the golf equipment purchasing spectrum. And before you accuse me of lording above all in some digital ivory tower, I’d like to offer that I worked at golf courses (public and private) for years prior to picking up my pen, so I’m well-versed in the non-degenerate golf equipment consumers out there. I touched (green)grass (retail)!
Complaints about the ills of and related to the OEMs usually follow some version of: Product cycles are too short for real innovation, tour equipment isn’t the same as retail (which is largely not true, by the way), too much is invested in marketing and not enough in R&D, top staffer X hasn’t even put the new driver in play, so it’s obviously not superior to the previous generation, prices are too high, and on and on.
Without digging into the merits of any of these claims, which I believe are mostly red herrings, I’d like to bring into view of our rangefinder what I believe to be the two primary difficulties golf equipment companies face.
One: As Terry Koehler, back when he was the CEO of Ben Hogan, told me at the time of the Ft Worth irons launch, if you can’t regularly hit the golf ball in a coin-sized area in the middle of the face, there’s not a ton that iron technology can do for you. Now, this is less true now with respect to irons than when he said it, and is less and less true by degrees as the clubs get larger (utilities, fairways, hybrids, drivers), but there remains a great deal of golf equipment truth in that statement. Think about it — which is to say, in TL;DR fashion, get lessons from a qualified instructor who will teach you about the fundamentals of repeatable impact and how the golf swing works, not just offer band-aid fixes. If you can’t repeatably deliver the golf club to the golf ball in something resembling the manner it was designed for, how can you expect to be getting the most out of the club — put another way, the maximum value from your investment?
Similarly, game improvement equipment can only improve your game if you game it. In other words, get fit for the clubs you ought to be playing rather than filling the bag with the ones you wish you could hit or used to be able to hit. Of course, don’t do this if you don’t care about performance and just want to hit a forged blade while playing off an 18 handicap. That’s absolutely fine. There were plenty of members in clubs back in the day playing Hogan Apex or Mizuno MP-32 irons who had no business doing so from a ballstriking standpoint, but they enjoyed their look, feel, and complementary qualities to their Gatsby hats and cashmere sweaters. Do what brings you a measure of joy in this maddening game.
Now, the second issue. This is not a plea for non-conforming equipment; rather, it is a statement of fact. USGA/R&A limits on every facet of golf equipment are detrimental to golf equipment manufacturers. Sure, you know this, but do you think about it as it applies to almost every element of equipment? A 500cc driver would be inherently more forgiving than a 460cc, as one with a COR measurement in excess of 0.83. 50-inch shafts. Box grooves. And on and on.
Would fewer regulations be objectively bad for the game? Would this erode its soul? Fortunately, that’s beside the point of this exercise, which is merely to point out the facts. The fact, in this case, is that equipment restrictions and regulations are the slaughterbench of an abundance of innovation in the golf equipment space. Is this for the best? Well, now I’ve asked the question twice and might as well give a partial response, I guess my answer to that would be, “It depends on what type of golf you’re playing and who you’re playing it with.”
For my part, I don’t mind embarrassing myself with vintage blades and persimmons chasing after the quasi-spiritual elevation of a well-struck shot, but that’s just me. Plenty of folks don’t give a damn if their grooves are conforming. Plenty of folks think the folks in Liberty Corner ought to add a prison to the museum for such offences. And those are just a few of the considerations for the amateur game — which doesn’t get inside the gallery ropes of the pro game…
Different strokes in the game of golf, in my humble opinion.
Anyway, I believe equipment company engineers are genuinely trying to build better equipment year over year. The marketing departments are trying to find ways to make this equipment appeal to the broadest segment of the golf market possible. All of this against (1) the backdrop of — at least for now — firm product cycles. And golfers who, with their ~15 average handicap (men), for the most part, are not striping the golf ball like Tiger in his prime and seem to have less and less time year over year to practice and improve. (2) Regulations that massively restrict what they’re able to do…
That’s the landscape as I see it and the real headwinds for golf equipment companies. No doubt, there’s more I haven’t considered, but I think the previous is a better — and better faith — point of departure when formulating any serious commentary on the golf equipment world than some of the more cynical and conspiratorial takes I hear.
Agree? Disagree? Think I’m worthy of an Adam Hadwin-esque security guard tackle? Let me know in the comments.
@golfoncbs The infamous Adam Hadwin tackle ? #golf #fyp #canada #pgatour #adamhadwin ? Ghibli-style nostalgic waltz – MaSssuguMusic
Podcasts
Fore Love of Golf: Introducing a new club concept

Episode #16 brings us Cliff McKinney. Cliff is the founder of Old Charlie Golf Club, a new club, and concept, to be built in the Florida panhandle. The model is quite interesting and aims to make great, private golf more affordable. We hope you enjoy the show!
Opinion & Analysis
On Scottie Scheffler wondering ‘What’s the point of winning?’

Last week, I came across a reel from BBC Sport on Instagram featuring Scottie Scheffler speaking to the media ahead of The Open at Royal Portrush. In it, he shared that he often wonders what the point is of wanting to win tournaments so badly — especially when he knows, deep down, that it doesn’t lead to a truly fulfilling life.
View this post on Instagram
“Is it great to be able to win tournaments and to accomplish the things I have in the game of golf? Yeah, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about it because I’ve literally worked my entire life to be good at this sport,” Scheffler said. “To have that kind of sense of accomplishment, I think, is a pretty cool feeling. To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world, because what’s the point?”
Ironically — or perhaps perfectly — he went on to win the claret jug.
That question — what’s the point of winning? — cuts straight to the heart of the human journey.
As someone who’s spent over two decades in the trenches of professional golf, and in deep study of the mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of the game, I see Scottie’s inner conflict as a sign of soul evolution in motion.
I came to golf late. I wasn’t a junior standout or college All-American. At 27, I left a steady corporate job to see if I could be on the PGA Tour starting as a 14-handicap, average-length hitter. Over the years, my journey has been defined less by trophies and more by the relentless effort to navigate the deeply inequitable and gated system of professional golf — an effort that ultimately turned inward and helped me evolve as both a golfer and a person.
One perspective that helped me make sense of this inner dissonance around competition and our culture’s tendency to overvalue winning is the idea of soul evolution.
The University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies has done extensive research on reincarnation, and Netflix’s Surviving Death (Episode 6) explores the topic, too. Whether you take it literally or metaphorically, the idea that we’re on a long arc of growth — from beginner to sage elder — offers a profound perspective.
If you accept the premise literally, then terms like “young soul” and “old soul” start to hold meaning. However, even if we set the word “soul” aside, it’s easy to see that different levels of life experience produce different worldviews.
Newer souls — or people in earlier stages of their development — may be curious and kind but still lack discernment or depth. There is a naivety, and they don’t yet question as deeply, tending to see things in black and white, partly because certainty feels safer than confronting the unknown.
As we gain more experience, we begin to experiment. We test limits. We chase extreme external goals — sometimes at the expense of health, relationships, or inner peace — still operating from hunger, ambition, and the fragility of the ego.
It’s a necessary stage, but often a turbulent and unfulfilling one.
David Duval fell off the map after reaching World No. 1. Bubba Watson had his own “Is this it?” moment with his caddie, Ted Scott, after winning the Masters.
In Aaron Rodgers: Enigma, reflecting on his 2011 Super Bowl win, Rodgers said:
“Now I’ve accomplished the only thing that I really, really wanted to do in my life. Now what? I was like, ‘Did I aim at the wrong thing? Did I spend too much time thinking about stuff that ultimately doesn’t give you true happiness?’”
Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”
Eventually, though, something shifts.
We begin to see in shades of gray. Winning, dominating, accumulating—these pursuits lose their shine. The rewards feel more fleeting. Living in a constant state of fight-or-flight makes us feel alive, yes, but not happy and joyful.
Compassion begins to replace ambition. Love, presence, and gratitude become more fulfilling than status, profits, or trophies. We crave balance over burnout. Collaboration over competition. Meaning over metrics.
Interestingly, if we zoom out, we can apply this same model to nations and cultures. Countries, like people, have a collective “soul stage” made up of the individuals within them.
Take the United States, for example. I’d place it as a mid-level soul: highly competitive and deeply driven, but still learning emotional maturity. Still uncomfortable with nuance. Still believing that more is always better. Despite its global wins, the U.S. currently ranks just 23rd in happiness (as of 2025). You might liken it to a gifted teenager—bold, eager, and ambitious, but angsty and still figuring out how to live well and in balance. As much as a parent wants to protect their child, sometimes the child has to make their own mistakes to truly grow.
So when Scottie Scheffler wonders what the point of winning is, I don’t see someone losing strength.
I see someone evolving.
He’s beginning to look beyond the leaderboard. Beyond metrics of success that carry a lower vibration. And yet, in a poetic twist, Scheffler did go on to win The Open. But that only reinforces the point: even at the pinnacle, the question remains. And if more of us in the golf and sports world — and in U.S. culture at large — started asking similar questions, we might discover that the more meaningful trophy isn’t about accumulating or beating others at all costs.
It’s about awakening and evolving to something more than winning could ever promise.
Paul
Mar 25, 2021 at 5:15 pm
What ever became of Quasimodo?
Paul G.
Mar 24, 2021 at 12:18 pm
Just wanted to say how much I enjoyed reading this particular article. I’m a (Canadian) Mechanical Engineer who’s dove into club building on the side as a hobby. It’s always been a fantasy dream of mine to work as a design or manufacturing engineer in the golf industry and these articles by Terry always seem to give me that glimpse into that world from a professional point of view. Apart from being a good writer I find your passion for the game and process of it always comes through, so thanks for that and keep up the great content.
Also wanted to mention I recently cut down my stock length driver after reading a few of your articles. The first round out was really positive from an impact point – thanks for the tip there, feels like I’ll be smoking the sweet spot a lot more this summer.
Hope to keep seeing your articles every week, Terry.