A new image leak featuring what seems to be the much-anticipated Odyssey Square to Square MAX putter has sparked a frenzy on golf social media.
This putter looks strikingly similar to the L.A.B. Golf’s DF2.1 or DF3 models, leading many in the golf community to label it as an outright imitation. While Odyssey hasn’t officially unveiled this putter yet, if history is any indicator, it will eventually hit store shelves. And so begins the debate: Is this simply another instance of golf’s tendency to mimic, or is Odyssey going too far, akin to someone stumbling through the chaotic energy of the Phoenix Open?
Dive with me into the deep end of my thoughts as I grapple with the notion that Odyssey’s apparent L.A.B. copy might just be a step too far.
“Dude, did you see Odyssey’s latest? Total rip-off of L.A.B.”
Did they really?
(Yes, to be honest!)
It doesn’t take a side-by-side comparison to see the obvious likeness. But a more pressing question is, does it actually matter? Let’s not act like the folks who hopped onto the L.A.B. trend after years of playing with budget versions of Scotty Cameron putters they snagged from eBay are suddenly champions of intellectual property rights.
Two years from now, who apart from the most devoted gear enthusiasts will still recall this?
Probably no one.
“Absolutely, it matters! L.A.B. brought something fresh to the game!”
Golf has always been a game of imitating and adapting ideas. It was, it is, and will continue to be. Anything unique has a short-lived exclusivity.
Survey the market—$10,000 drivers are practically everywhere, and it seems every ball maker has a Pro V1 equivalent… and putter brands?
Oh boy.
Without a fang or spider-style mallet in your lineup, are you even participating? Wilson’s 8802 is making rounds like the drinks at a club tournament, and don’t get me started on the numerous Anser reiterations, nearly as frequent as Tiger’s trips to the surgeon.
“This isn’t simply another mallet—it’s L.A.B.’s comprehensive concept.”
L.A.B. has crafted a noticeable brand identity within a crowded field, but even they’ve had moments of questionable originality. You could argue that L.A.B.’s OZ mallet shares an eerie similarity with a center-shafted version of Jon Rahm’s Odyssey OG Rossie, albeit with less finesse in design. If we’re quick to label the Square to Square Max as a cheap version of a L.A.B., shouldn’t we also acknowledge how OZ mimics the Odyssey (despite not being available in pink)?
Moreover, L.A.B.’s LINK.1, while staying true to the company’s design ethos, can be seen as just another variant of the Anser.
How long does a putter need to exist before it’s considered fair grounds for replication? My guesswork fails me here.
“Fine, but consider this: Callaway’s a massive corporation—they don’t need to pinch ideas from smaller brands.”
To quote my brother, and possibly countless others before him, “monster truck don’t care.” Callaway, the parent company to Odyssey, fits this monster truck persona. And sure, my brother drove a Tacoma back then, not really a monster truck, but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, Callaway’s a heavyweight doing what large companies do, although L.A.B. isn’t some basement operation either.
Ranking as the No. 3 putter brand in terms of market share, they’ve outpaced even considerable names like TaylorMade and PING. Their shift from niche to mainstream was brisker than Patrick Reed’s fall from grace as a favored American golf hero.
Success invariably paints a target on your back, and right now, L.A.B. stands with a giant fluorescent bullseye on it.
“Didn’t PXG’s Blackbird kind of jump on the L.A.B. bandwagon first without anyone noticing?”
Now that you brought it up (I noted internally), yeah, flip the thing around and you might see a hint of L.A.B.’s design influence. One could argue PXG delivered their version of the DF3 even before L.A.B. (or Odyssey) did.
And yet, silence reigned.
Can I get a KABOOM, BABY!?
“But that cease-and-desist order Callaway sent to L.A.B. over the ‘Broomstick’—isn’t that crossing the line?”
Totally bush league. It’s the kind of absurdity the golf world thrives on. There should be an award for this kind of farce.
The sheer irony here is thick. Callaway, threatening L.A.B over the “Broomstick” moniker, only to have Odyssey release something that looks awfully similar to a L.A.B. creation, is a remarkable display of corporate double standards deserving of multiple eye-rolls.
FFS, Callaway.
Apparently, shapes can’t be copyrighted. Common words, on the flip side, can be trademarked in particular contexts.
It’s ludicrous but, fair play, Callaway didn’t make the rules.
At least L.A.B. cleverly pivoted, rebranding their putters as “Sweepers” for victory (though “cheater sticks” would have had its own charm).
And so, the game is played all for the sake of justifying legal team salaries.
“This is even sillier than the Odyssey and TaylorMade red putter rivalry.”
Honestly, who remembers that showdown? That season saw them trying to outmaneuver each other with red putters in a spat that was as trivial as it was tedious. Classic golf industry—flash over substance.
At the very least, there’s genuine tech involved this time around.
“And don’t those Odyssey grips seem a tad… influenced by L.A.B. designs?”
Absolutely, that ruffles some feathers. L.A.B. holds patents on its distinctive grip designs, and Odyssey’s take looks suspiciously familiar. L.A.B. might hold a strong legal card here (though Callaway’s seasoned legal team likely believes they’ve circumnavigated the major issues).
Oddly enough, this part of the tale feels a tad excessive to me.
Perhaps ironically, Callaway may soon receive their own cease-and-desist notice—circle of life, my friends. It’s like karma but with a $50,000 legal fee twist.
“So, wait, you’re suggesting this might actually benefit L.A.B. in some way?”
I didn’t initially, but thinking about it, there might be a silver lining here for L.A.B. If Odyssey’s version performs well, doesn’t it kind of endorse L.A.B.’s original design? Any increased curiosity—“What’s the deal with this L.A.B. brand?”—could prove beneficial. It could even become free publicity, thanks to their competitor’s research and development spending. Few things drive sales like fear of missing out (FOMO).
“So, is everything fair game in the world of golf gear?”
By and large, yes. Designs get replicated and tweaked all the time. That’s been standard practice. The fang, the spider, the Anser, and perhaps now the OG Rossie. There’s definitely something unsavory about major corporations so shamelessly taking cues from smaller entities, but in reality, golf equipment is about ‘following the leader,’ with the occasional stroke of genuine innovation.
And surprise! Genuine innovations always attract imitators.
“So at the end of the day, does this even hold any weight?”
Truly impactful gear inevitably gets replicated. Eventually, you just stop noticing. Does anyone really remember which company first sought inspiration from the Anser?
Golf gear treads on a path of iterations and borrowed ideas. And if L.A.B. has indeed hit upon something significant, this won’t be the last we see of its influence seeping into competitors’ designs.
“Let’s bring it back: Is Odyssey copying L.A.B.?”
Absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt. But such is the nature of an industry where fresh ideas are as rare as golfers who don’t mention their scratch handicap or country clubs that truly embrace openness.
While the golf industry prides itself on innovation, it clings to established successes. Instead of lashing out over who copied whom, maybe we should question why major firms, with all their resources, don’t invest more in pushing boundaries themselves. But that’s a dialogue for another time, ideally after some shut-eye and a calming remedy.
Curious about your thoughts on all this?
