Six strokes. The ram is stroke five, not stroke one.

1. Paint the sole first

   Copper on the sole, a thin wash, not a cake. We want a bruise, not a sculpture. Reed does this while you talk about Hobble Creek or Cascade or the muni. The talking is optional. The paint is not.

2. Hit, do not pose

   Three or five swings that look like your swing, not the swing you use for photographs. Street shoes are a disqualification. If you only brought campus sneakers, we can still paint, but the ticket will say so in a handwriting you will not enjoy.

3. Read the shine

   Heel moon, toe scuff, or a polite center dusting. We photograph it because memory is a coward. Inez will tell you what the copper did before anyone mentions degrees. If you want the method, it lives on the tape-read page.

4. Clamp without theater

   The hosel sits in the clamp. We mark the starting stamp. We argue with the stamp if the shine already contradicted it. Graphite gets a gentler conversation. Cast heads with old creases get a refusal, not a pep talk.

5. Ram in bites, re-paint

   A small travel, a re-measure, copper again, another hit. We do not “take it to two degrees and hope.” The second paint is the one that embarrasses heroic first guesses. That is why it exists. Why we paint twice.

6. Write the ticket

   Starting stamp, ending stamp, which clubs, which surface we honored (winter mat versus June canyon), and what we refused. You leave with paper. Paper survives a later visit to a shop that wants to un-do us.

Hold a ram hour If you wanted a lesson instead