Hey there, golf nuts and Costco enthusiasts! It’s your favorite San Diego duffer, Linda, back at it again. This time, we’re diving headfirst into the mysterious world of Kirkland golf clubs. Buckle up, because this ride is about to get bumpier than my putting stroke after a few Ballast Point IPAs.
The Kirkland Golf Club Conundrum
So, you’ve heard about my adventures with Kirkland golf balls, right? If not, go read that first. I’ll wait. Got a glass of wine ready? Good, you’ll need it.
Now, imagine my surprise when I strolled into Costco one day (let’s be honest, it was for more wine) and saw a set of Kirkland Signature golf clubs gleaming at me like a mirage in the Borrego Springs desert. I thought, “Hey, the balls weren’t half bad. How wrong could this go?”
Spoiler alert: Oh, so very wrong.
Who’s Behind These Mystery Sticks?
Here’s the million-dollar question (or in Kirkland’s case, the surprisingly-affordable question): Who makes Kirkland golf clubs?
After some digging (and maybe a teensy bit of wine-fueled late-night Googling), here’s what I’ve uncovered:
- The Manufacturer Mystery: Unlike the golf balls, which we know are made by Qingdao SM Parker in China, the clubs are a bit more… enigmatic. It’s like trying to figure out who actually yelled “fore” when your ball nearly decapitates the group ahead.
- Costco’s Tight Lips: Costco is about as forthcoming with information on their club manufacturer as I am with my actual handicap. They’re keeping this secret tighter than my grip on a downhill 3-footer.
- Rumors and Speculation: Some say the clubs are made by a well-known golf equipment manufacturer under a secret agreement. Others think Costco found a magical golf club-making elf in the North Pole. My money’s on the elf theory.
- The Southern California Connection: There are whispers that the clubs might be designed in Southern California. Which explains why my drives with these clubs usually end up in the Pacific – they’re just trying to go home.
- The OEM Hypothesis: Some golf equipment experts (read: forum warriors with too much time on their hands) suggest that Kirkland clubs might be made by a major Original Equipment Manufacturer (OEM). It’s like finding out your favorite indie band is actually a side project of the Rolling Stones.
The Great Kirkland Club Experiment
In the name of “research” (and definitely not because I’m a sucker for a good deal), I decided to take these clubs for a spin at Torrey Pines. Because if you’re going to embarrass yourself, why not do it on a course that’s hosted the U.S. Open, right?
Here’s how it went down:
- Hole 1: Pulled out the Kirkland driver. Swung. The ball went… somewhere. I think it’s now orbiting the earth with Elon Musk’s Tesla. The sound at impact was less “ping” and more “thud,” like hitting a ball with a frying pan. But hey, it’s cheap!
- Hole 2: Tried the 7-iron. It actually wasn’t bad! The ball went straight-ish. I immediately checked to make sure I hadn’t accidentally brought my regular clubs. The group behind us looked impressed. Or maybe they were just shocked I’d made it out of the tee box this time.
- Hole 3: Attempted a delicate chip with the Kirkland wedge. The ball checked up on the green like it was auditioning for the PGA Tour. I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed this miracle. A seagull gave me a nod of approval. Or maybe it was just eyeing my sandwich.
- Hole 9: By this point, I had named my Kirkland putter “Betrayal.” We were no longer on speaking terms. I tried smooth strokes, firm strokes, even a little sweet-talking. Nothing worked. I’m pretty sure I saw it snickering at me after a particularly embarrassing 3-putt.
- Hole 18: As I approached the final green, I realized something profound. These clubs had taken me on a journey – a journey of self-discovery, frustration, and occasional moments of glory. Kind of like my first marriage, but with less alimony.
The Kirkland Club Lineup: A Comedy of Errors
Let’s break down the Kirkland club offerings, shall we? It’s like a golf equipment version of a Seinfeld episode – a show about nothing, yet somehow entertaining:
- The Driver: Ah, the big stick. It’s about as forgiving as my ex after I “forgot” our anniversary. But hey, at least it makes a satisfying “thwack” when you hit it. Whether the ball goes straight is a whole other story. I’m pretty sure I saw my drive land in La Jolla when I was playing in Carlsbad.
- The Fairway Woods: These are like the middle children of the set – often overlooked, occasionally surprising. I hit a 3-wood once that went so far, I’m pretty sure it ended up in another time zone. The other 99 times? Let’s just say the local squirrels now fear for their lives when I pull out a fairway wood.
- The Irons: These are actually not terrible. They’re like the fish tacos at that sketchy-looking place in Ocean Beach – surprisingly decent, but you’re not quite sure why. The game-improvement design means they’re more forgiving than a Catholic priest on Christmas. Which, given my swing, is a godsend.
- The Wedges: Now we’re talking! These are the hidden gems of the set. They’re like finding out that dive bar near Petco Park actually makes a killer Old Fashioned. Color me impressed. I’ve actually considered breaking up the set just to keep these wedges. Don’t tell the other clubs – I don’t want to deal with their separation anxiety.
- The Putter: It’s a stick with a flat end that’s supposed to make the ball go in the hole. Sometimes it does. Usually, it doesn’t. But let’s be honest, that’s not the putter’s fault (sorry, Kirkland, but I can’t blame you for everything). I’ve named it “The Dreamcrusher 2000” – it’s very effective at destroying any dreams I have of breaking 80.
The Kirkland Club Experience: From Tee to Green (Or Wherever the Ball Ends Up)
Let me take you through a typical round with these beauties:
Teeing Off: You step up to the first tee, Kirkland driver in hand. Your playing partners try to hide their smirks. You swing, connecting with a sound that’s somewhere between a car crash and a dying whale. The ball? Who knows. But hey, at least you didn’t whiff it!
Fairway Play: Assuming you found the fairway (ha!), it’s time for an iron shot. The Kirkland iron feels… not bad? You swing, make contact, and watch in amazement as the ball soars towards the green. It might not be pretty, but it gets the job done – kind of like my college roommate’s cooking.
Approach Shots: Here’s where the Kirkland wedges shine. You chip onto the green with the grace and precision of a drunken ballerina, but somehow, the ball listens. It checks up, rolls towards the hole, and… stops 2 feet short. Hey, that’s closer than usual!
Putting: You line up your putt, take a deep breath, and… watch in horror as the ball veers off in a direction that defies the laws of physics. Was that a slope? A grain in the green? Or is the Kirkland putter possessed by the ghost of a golfer who really, really hated making pars?
The Verdict: Are Kirkland Clubs Worth It?
Here’s the deal, folks. Kirkland golf clubs are like that box of wine you buy for a party – it’ll do the job, but you might regret it in the morning.
Pros:
- Cheaper than therapy (barely)
- A great conversation starter (mostly along the lines of “What were you thinking?”)
- The wedges are surprisingly good (even a broken clock is right twice a day)
- You’ll save enough money to afford those post-round drinks you’ll definitely need
- They make great lightning rods in case of sudden storms on the course
Cons:
- You might develop a love-hate relationship with your golf game (as opposed to the usual hate-hate relationship)
- Your golf buddies might stage an intervention
- You’ll lose your favorite excuse for bad shots (“It’s definitely the clubs, not me!”)
- The driver might double as a lethal weapon (unintentionally, of course)
- You might find yourself explaining to the cart girl why you’re playing with Costco clubs and drinking Dom Perignon
The Kirkland Club Fitting Experience
Now, you might be wondering, “Linda, did you get fitted for these clubs?” Oh, sweet summer child. The Kirkland fitting experience is about as personalized as the free samples at Costco on a busy Saturday.
Picture this: You’re standing in aisle 47, somewhere between the 50-pound bags of dog food and a pallet of Ziploc bags large enough to store a small car. You see the golf clubs. You pick them up. If they feel good in your hands and don’t immediately cause you to throw out your back, congratulations! You’ve been “fitted” for Kirkland clubs.
It’s about as scientific as my method for choosing wine – if the label is pretty and it’s on sale, it’s coming home with me.
In Conclusion: To Kirkland or Not to Kirkland?
Look, if you’re a beginner or on a tight budget, Kirkland clubs aren’t the worst option out there. They’re like the Taco Tuesday of the golf world – not gourmet, but they get the job done and leave you with enough money for a few post-round drinks.
But if you’re serious about your game? Maybe stick to the big brands. Or better yet, get fitted for clubs by a professional. Your scorecard (and your playing partners) will thank you.
As for me? I’m sticking with my mixed bag of hand-me-downs and impulse purchases. But I’ll always have a soft spot for those Kirkland wedges. They’re the real MVPs, like finding an empty parking spot at La Jolla Cove on a summer weekend.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go ice my back. Turns out, trying to muscle a Kirkland 3-iron out of Torrey Pines rough is not recommended for women of a certain age. Or anyone, really.
Until next time, keep it in the fairway (or at least in bounds)! And remember, whether you’re swinging Kirklands or Callaways, the most important club in your bag is the one you use to open your post-round beer.
Cheers,
Linda 🏌️♀️🍷
P.S. If anyone from Costco is reading this – I’m available for sponsorship. I’ll even wear a Kirkland Signature polo if you throw in a lifetime supply of those heavenly rotisserie chickens!