Berths 11–13
A fourth wedge is often a stolen hybrid
Scoring clubs feel like identity. They are still names on a fourteen-slot ticket. Every extra wedge is a berth you took from a long claimant that might have a real job into the wind.
Why wet Bermuda votes three
Harbor humidity fattens spin. Four lofts that look distinct on a dry range start overlapping on a damp Ocean View green. Players spend the round negotiating with themselves inside 80 steps. Three honest lofts, pulled without a committee meeting, beat four that share a window.
When four still earns ink
A short-game specialist who actually uses a 60. A municipal with deep bunkers and no 7-wood claim on slot three. A player whose pitching wedge is already a full-swing iron, not a scoring club. We will ink four. We will not ink four because a set was sold that way in a box.
Two is a valid census
Some bags around here live on a pitching wedge and a sand club and spend the spare berth on a second hybrid or a 5-wood. That is not poverty. That is a lineup that matches a person who never chips with a 60. We would rather write that ticket than force a fashion loft.