The Futura putter
is something to behold

By David Weiss,
Senior Writer

The Futura is now! Master flatstick maker Scotty Cameron has outdone himself once again, this time with a radical, sci-fi looking design for Titleist that is sure to ignite conversation, if not birdies, around the green.

Looking more like a TV antenna than a golf club, the Futura boasts a fairly standard looking milled aluminum face, but is hinged to a semi-circle of stainless steel serving as a backweight, which gives the putter blade a mere quarter of the club's total weight.

According to theory -- and Cameron jiggled the slide-rule for some five years while perfecting the club -- the ball rolls immediately off the putter face without digging into the ground, and the sole never closes when setting up to the ball. The shaft insertion point is behind the face, promoting a proper swing path.

Being no physicist myself, I can't quantify the whys and wherefores of the Futura's radical design, only testify to how balsa-wood light the putter felt in my hands, and how effortlessly one is able to get the ball rolling. Not to mention that one's grip pressure lightens up instinctively given the relative lack of heft.

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Cameron has been quoted as saying that he likes to make putters that are "an expression of the golfer's personal game." Surely the Futura is convincing demonstration of that credo, having a modernist, idiosyncratic look that reminds one of Raymond Lowy's 1933 Coca-Cola bottle, more an objet d'art than a mere piece of glass.

Now if function didn't follow form, all would be lost, but fortunately one is not merely styling when possessor of the Futura, and I happen to have an anecdote handy to illustrate. When I arrived at Tierra Rejada in Moorpark, California the other day with my new putter, I was duly informed I'd be playing with a twosome that included Hall of Fame NFL running-back Eric Dickerson.

Sartorially underdone as usual, I approached the impeccably styled Master D with some trepidation. I know he gave me a head-to-toe once-over and concluded in his mind: "Who is this country-lookin', bad-hair, short-hitting shanker?" Not only did I bust my drive past the No. 3 yardage-man of all-time, I definitely arrested his attention when I undid the headcover of the Futura.

Three holes later, having only stroked the ball some 15 times on the putting green prior to the round, I canned a snaking 40-footer for birdie from off the green, earning covetous and admiring glances at the strange device that looks more like a Theremin than a golf club.

Suffice it to say that I earned the respect of the Artful Dodger by round's end, with him swearing to pick up the Futura as soon as possible. I do know one thing -- this one will be in my bag for a long time coming.

Footnote: In a pinch, if your dogies are found wandering in the next prairie, hold the club in a fireplace for 45 seconds and it can easily double as a branding iron, that is, as long as your ranch is named Titleist.