Forging Forward

by Victor Williams

To hear a lot of golf club companies tell it, irons are endangered species alongside persimmon woods, 6,500 yard courses and Jack Nicklaus’ major win record. And to many of us in the broad community of high-handicappers, they just might be.

Hybrids are hotter than ever right now, and even most of the new irons peddled by the TaylorMades and Callaways of the world are dubbed “game improvement” sticks, with huge clubfaces, perimeter weighting, copious offset, swimming pool-depth cavity backs and distance-goosing inserts.

Unless you’re a single-digit player, why mess with anything else? And why, for heaven’s sake, would you give a second glance at an old-fashioned forged clubhead whose face looks at address like the blade of a pocket knife?

Because no stroke satisfies like one launched off the grooves of a well-made forged iron. Catch one flush and it’s buttah. And then there’s that little quality of workability. Turn it over. Knock it down. Dial in the distance with no “hot spot” surprises or ballooning backspinners or bone-ratting feedback, other than that produced by your own flawed swing. That’s the beauty of forged metal. It was the case in Ben Hogan’s day, and it’s still true today.

Notice we said well made. Not mass-produced, not fino (forged in name only) irons, but the real deal, from the hands, heart of and soul of a true craftsman.

Katsuhiro Miura is that guy, a true believer in the power of forged irons to keep a quality-minded player connected to tradition yet stepping bravely forward onto the technological frontier. In nearly 50 years, he’s never given up his No. 1 seat on the grinding line at his plant in Himeji, Japan. He built a set of irons for Tiger back in his Titleist days, though you’d never have known by looking at them. When Ian Woosnam won The Masters in 1991 and Jose Maria Olazabal followed him up in 1994, Mr. Miura’s handiwork was in their bags, too — again, under more recognizable American names. Same deal with Retief Goosen’s 2001 U.S. Open win and Ray Floyd’s 1995 Senior PGA triumph. In each case, under contract with Maruman and TaylorMade, Miura built clubs to fit those particular guys’ swings, designs never made available to the public. And he’s still under contract with several big-name original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) to this day, should Joe Pro ever call on him to forge magic out of steel through a secret 14-step process.

All the while, Miura, a living legend in Japan, has nurtured the dream of making a name for himself on the world stage — Germany, England, Australia and, of course, the United States. Now, his little 35-employee family concern from the land of Samurai swords is turning the Everyman’s head, opening his pocketbook and changing his game through the most esoteric and personal yet fastest-growing of production avenues: America’s custom clubfitting industry.

“The typical story is, ‘I haven’t heard of you until a week ago, and now I’m ordering a set of irons,’ says Bill Holowaty, vice president of general operations for Miura Golf’s corporate office in Vancouver, British Columbia. “We’re happy with what’s happening.”

A former pro hockey player, Holowaty met Miura in Japan in the 1980s through a Japanese-Canadian teammate. In the offseason, they’d take a golf trip to South Japan, and there they learned of his dream — to be known outside of his own country. Miura’s equipment was popular in Japan; American OEMs began courting him. By the late ’90s, Holowaty and his friend helped him develop a pilot project in Texas, and in 2002 moved the company to Vancouver. They knew they had a great product; the question was, how to market irons that start at $1,100 per set?

“Our initial desire was to go to green grass accounts, to country clubs, and offer the best in the world,” Holowaty says. “We didn’t want to be in the big box stores. But PGA pros weren’t interested in hardware. They’d been beaten up by Internet and big box and saw no value in selling them. But about that time there was a movement toward custom clubfitters. Guys were investing in launch monitors and fitting studios, and were educated about the manufacturing process for all golf clubs. Through their research they found that Mr. Miura was responsible for the top forged models for other companies. If they made contact with us, they were introduced to a product that lived up to hype and expectation — and it’s been a really good fit for us.”

Holowaty means that in every way possible. Miura irons not only mark a perfect marriage of art, science and commerce but — once a player is properly fitted — a seamless blending of visual beauty and eye-popping performance. Each of Miura’s three main designs — the traditional muscleback blade, low-profile cavity-back CB-301 (reviewed on Page 28) and the slightly larger, more offset CB-201 — are almost too pretty to hit. But hit them you must. And after that first clubface-to-ball blush of “those heads are way too small for me” or “man, they feel heavy,” you’ll take a swing, get that soft-as-silk feedback, see the piercing ballflight and call yourself a believer.

“If a golfer can’t get it in his hands, it’s not going to happen,” Holowaty says. “And it has to pass that first look. That’s an integral part of people purchasing your irons. If we’re in your town, we’d love to get you in to see our clubfitters and take advantage of their value-added service. If not, we have an assembly facility here, and we can turn around a set in seven to 10 days.” Or, if money and time are no object, you can ask that Mr. Miura assemble your set in Japan.

Either way, Holowaty admits that Miura clubs — which also include wedges and putters — probably aren’t for everybody, though the man himself would beg to differ.

“The perception by most golfers is that forged clubs are for better players, but Mr. Miura would dispute that. He was recently asked to compare a forged club to a cast club. He said that a true game-improvement club is a forged iron.

“He made my dad a set of blades,” Holowaty says, “and Dad took one look at them and said, ‘I can’t play these.’ It made me laugh because he was 4 or 5 handicap at the time. But in his mind he couldn’t play them.”

Sure, with a cast or mass-forged club, the margin for error is larger, but so are the deviations from what most golfers want — consistent feel and response through the bag. “When you play a forged club, you can feel what a mis-hit feels like, and where a good shot comes from,” Holowaty says. “So if you’re truly dedicated to getting better, a forged club will give you the feedback to get better. To hit a low shot, a partial shot, a cut shot, a high shot, a curving shot — a forged club allows you to do all those things. A cast club is meant to equalize all the talent involved with it. It’s designed to hit the ball straighter and on a certain trajectory. That’s good for many players, but if you want to get better in Mr. Miura’s mind, forged is better.”

Especially when it’s done the Miura way, with the clubhead forged separately from the hosel, which is milled pre-drilled to a precise depth. The clubhead can be laid flat in the die and heated to a specific temperature — the “secret recipe,” as Holowaty calls it. “That allows the right strikeforce delivered to the clubhead to create the right grain structure without damaging the hosel.”

“Right” means “tight,” in a molecular sense. “Everyone else’s forged club, if you magnified it, would look like a glass filled with marbles. Miura’s would look like a glass filled with sand — which leads to more energy transferred toward the ball, less vibration and better feel.”

That means more forgiveness from club to club, even if a player decides to mix designs within one set. “I have many guys who play the CB-201, or combo set of blades and 201s, and they’ll say the blade is actually more forgiving. With the density behind the clubface, you have a larger sweetspot than with a cavity back. The difference is in the grain structure.”

All Miura clubheads are forged in Japan and quality checked by a family member or worker trained by Mr. Miura himself. Quality control standards are almost impossibly high, but the Miuras meet them every time.

“His sons are very involved in the company — they’re in their mid-30s and have been involved for 20 years, and his wife can still be found in the finishing room, taping off clubs pre-sandblast,” Holowaty says. “If she sees a flaw, she’ll say it’s not good enough. Mr. Miura just laughs. He gave up arguing with her and went on to send out the most perfect clubs possible.”
But can they stay in a player’s bag forever, through every swing change and injury and whatnot?
That’s the idea.

“His philosophy is we won’t introduce a new model unless technological changes dictate it,” Holowaty says. “People don’t have to search for a new product every year. They can just change shafts to get more clubhead speed, or whatever. The clubfitter makes another sale and the guy adds three or four miles per hour to his swings. A lot of senior players are drawn to the look and feel and finish of the Miura, and they can keep playing blades, the shots they remember.”

Now that’s forging a bond that lasts. FG

MIURA CB-301
$1,100 per set | www.miuragolf.com
First Look Freakout: If you’ve been hitting oversized “game improvement” irons for a while, like FG’s reviewer has, that first gander at Miura’s handiwork might give you pause. While the CB-301 is a cavity back, it’s also a low-profile, blade-like forged beauty, with a smaller clubface and little or no offset. Hit it anyway and prepare to be amazed at its soft feel and forgiveness.

Heavy Duty: The CB-301 also packs quite a headweight, again making those cast or mass-forged clubheads from the big boys seem feather-light in comparison. After a few swings on the range you’ll get used to it, revel in the ability to actually “feel” the clubhead pass through the hitting zone and soon discover how easy it is to work the ball without manipulating the hands.

Consider the Shaft: Miura irons almost beg to be paired up with True Temper Dynamic Gold steel shafts, at least to start. Steel has always been better for control, and it’s worth giving up the couple extra yards graphite may afford you to dial in pinpoint distances with every club. That’s what will really save you strokes. As your swing changes, go graphite and keep these gorgeous clubheads in the family.

The Verdict: Mr. Miura doesn’t send out a set unless it’s up to his exacting standards, which is why you’ll shell out the extra yen. But if you have a yen for perfection, write that check.