Definition on the docket
A band is a neighborhood. A gram is gossip.
Rotational weight tells you how unwilling a head is to start turning around the hands. Window 5 groups clubs that live in the same neighborhood so a Springfield round does not keep introducing a stranger at the top of the swing.
Static balance on a 14-inch fulcrum is a useful rumor. It is not the citizen the plaza actually meets. Two irons can share a letter and still turn like they were born in different counties. Otis hangs the head, notes the lag, and June inks a band wide enough to survive July on Lake Springfield and tight enough that a four-iron cannot hide inside a wedge neighborhood.
Players sometimes want a single number they can recite at the rails. Window 5 will not issue that number. Neighborhoods are the file. If your eight sits fat in the band and your five sits skinny, that is a split docket, not a personality.
Woods get their own drawer. Wedges get their own drawer. Mixing those drawers because a catalog said so is how Enos Park rounds become arguments.