The moment of clarity came, strangely, after a few beers at TopGolf. This was in early 2018, after I had been using a set of Edel Golf single-length irons for a few months. I'd fallen hard for the concept, thanks to some of the best long-iron shots of my life, but I still wasn't sure how long the experiment would last. Then at TopGolf I took on a friend in one of those games in which you hit a handful of balls at four different targets. Using a conventional set of clubs, I worked my way through a sand wedge, 9-iron and 7-iron, slightly put off by the changing dimensions of each stick. Then I grabbed the 5-iron and couldn't believe how foreign it felt. Standing over the first ball, I knew I was going to hit a crappy shot, and I did. I'd never longed for a golf club more than I pined for my single-lengths at that moment. a Brysonian level of ardor. But it was based mostly on emotion, which is to say, feeling less dread when I pull out a 5-iron. But I wanted to quantify the difference that single-length clubs can make for an average golfer like me (a shaky 7.9 index), so I journeyed to True Spec in Carlsbad, Calif., to gather some data. I brought along my last set of traditional clubs, PXG 0311s, and my current gamers, Cobra King Forged Tec One Length. (The Edels are beautiful but, as with any long-term relationship, I needed more forgiveness.) I gave myself five swings with a few different clubs. for any golfer transitioning to a single-length set. I fought it for a while, keeping my standard sand wedge in the bag as a crutch. But I've never been a great full-swing wedge player, with my miss being the dreaded thin shot, perhaps because the club was so dang short. Trackman validated what I already knew: It's a maddening game, but slightly less so with single-length sticks.