Whoever takes your session is the person who measured your clubs, wrote your sheet and will answer the phone when you call in March asking why the eight-iron feels different.
Nobody here works on commission and nobody has a monthly target. That is not a slogan, it is a payroll arrangement, and it changes what gets recommended.
Twelve winters tuning alpine skis below Mount Rose, then a set of factory irons with one club three degrees off, then this. Marcus takes most driver and fairway wood sessions and does all of the elevation-model recalibration twice a year.
He is the reason nothing here gets judged on fewer than eighteen swings, and the reason the calibration log hangs on the wall where customers can read it rather than in a drawer.
Delia came out of eleven seasons behind a municipal counter in Sparks, which is where she developed a low tolerance for equipment advice that cannot be measured. She runs the wedge and putter work and built the two-speed putting strip in the back bay herself.
If you arrive convinced your driver is the problem and leave having booked a wedge session instead, it was almost certainly Delia who talked you into it.
Aaron pulls, tips, epoxies and cures everything that goes out the door, and he takes the iron set sessions because a full-set fitting is really a bench problem wearing a bay costume. Frequency matching across a ladder is his particular obsession.
He also keeps the reference head that the bending machine gets checked against every quarter, and he will not let a set leave with a swingweight spread he considers untidy.
Ruth answers the phone, holds the calendar, and is the person who will tell you on a two-minute call which session actually matches the shot that is annoying you. She has heard the descriptions long enough to be better at it than she admits.
She also maintains the conditions log and the follow-up notes, which is how we know what a golfer reported back from a trip eighteen months later rather than guessing at it.
Some shops hand you off — one person does the interview, another runs the monitor, a third writes the order. We do not have the staff for that and would not do it if we did. The person who watched your first eighteen swings is the person who signs the sheet, because everything useful in a fitting sits in the things you noticed and did not write down.
Which fitter you get depends on what you booked rather than who is free. Long clubs go to Marcus, scoring clubs and the putter go to Delia, whole iron sets go to Aaron. The full ledger is deliberately split across two of them, one per visit, because a second pair of eyes on the same bag catches things the first pair stopped seeing.
Regularly, and usually about shafts. Aaron trusts frequency numbers further than Marcus does. Delia thinks bounce is over-discussed and grind is under-discussed. None of that gets resolved, and it is probably healthier that it does not, because it means every recommendation has had at least one person in the building trying to poke a hole in it.
What nobody argues about is the eighteen-swing rule and the one-variable rule. Those went on the wall in the first year and have never been up for discussion.
Three of us hold current clubmaker certification through an independent association rather than through any manufacturer's programme, which we chose deliberately — manufacturer training is genuinely good and it is also an argument for that manufacturer's answer. Aaron re-certifies on the bending and frequency side every two years. Marcus attends one air-density and ball-flight seminar a year, mostly to check that the model we use has not drifted away from what the physics people are saying.
The door is unlocked during studio hours and nobody will chase you around the room. Look at the calibration log while you are here.