Our Story

The longer I played golf, the more I realized something simple:

The most expensive thing the game asks from you isn’t money. It’s time.

A round takes hours. Getting better takes years. Golf asks you to walk, think, fail, adjust, and try again.

And that may be exactly why I love it.

For much of history, having time to play was a privilege. But the world has changed. Technology has multiplied what humans can produce. Machines transformed physical labor. Software transformed knowledge work. Now AI is beginning to change the way we work once again.

So I think it is worth asking:

What is progress for, if it doesn’t give people more of their lives back?

There is a strange double standard around leisure.

When the wealthy have free time, we call it freedom.
When everyone else has free time, we ask why they aren’t working.

I don’t believe time outside, time with friends, or time spent becoming good at something simply because you love it should be reserved for a few.

And if we are lucky enough to have that time, why golf?

Maybe because golf feels older than golf itself.

For most of human history, we moved through landscapes with purpose. We walked long distances, read the terrain, watched the wind, judged distance, chose a tool, aimed at something far away, and lived with the result.

Golf is not hunting.

But it rhymes with it.

Walk a long par five. Read the ground. Feel the wind. Choose a club. Commit to a shot. Walk after it.

Then, after all that distance, stand over a birdie putt and miss by an inch.

Different stakes.

A strangely familiar feeling.

That combination of movement, judgment, precision and pursuit is part of what keeps bringing me back.

You can fail for four hours, hit one perfect shot, and somehow that one shot is enough.

NIX began because I felt the things around the game could make more sense.

The idea became real after a round at Cinnabar Hills in Northern California, where I lost almost an entire box of golf balls over eighteen holes.

The obvious solution was to buy cheaper balls.

But I didn’t want a cheap golf ball.

I wanted a good golf ball that cost less.

I still cared about feel, flight, control and consistency. I simply didn’t believe quality had to come with unnecessary premium.

So I started learning.

Materials. Construction. Manufacturing. Testing.

Eventually, I decided to make the ball I wanted to play myself.

And once I started looking at golf products that way, I couldn’t stop.

Why does a sun sleeve have to feel uncomfortable after nine holes?

Why should a great-feeling glove wear out almost immediately?

Why are so many simple golf products buried under unnecessary graphics, features and marketing language?

The question behind NIX became very simple:

Why isn’t the thing I actually want easier to find?

I am not trying to make golf cheap.

I like good things.

Good materials. Good design. Good performance.

I simply believe a product should earn its price.

That is what I want NIX to be: a collection of golf essentials I genuinely want to use myself—sometimes something new, sometimes something familiar made simpler, smarter, more comfortable, or more considered.

Most things do not need to be reinvented.

They just need to be thought about a little more carefully.

Make it useful.
Make it well.
Price it honestly.
Remove everything that doesn’t need to be there.

Golf already asks for your patience, your attention, and above all, your time.

I think that’s enough.

NIX — Modern essentials for golf.
Nothing extra. Everything considered.