My dad found the swing golf buried. I used AI to prove why it works.
I'm a technologist. I've spent my career at the front edge of AI, building with it and advising some of the biggest companies on earth on how to use it. But this didn't start with me. It started with my dad.
Kevin Keding spent sixty-two years in golf: a club champion at thirteen, the mini tours, an assistant pro's post where Sam Snead gave him his final lesson. Snead taught him one thing, simplicity, and it took the rest of his life to prove it. Near the end of all that teaching, he and a handful of students started quietly piloting a different swing, one built on the kinetic chain instead of the hundred positions the industry sells. It worked. He just couldn't fully explain why.
That's where I came in. I did the thing I do for a living. I took what my dad was seeing and put it to the machine, with two questions no one in golf seemed willing to ask: why does this work, and how did a century of instruction miss it?
The AI pointed straight at the kinetic chain. It's how every power athlete on earth moves: ground up, in sequence, rotating around a stable axis. Boxing, baseball, tennis, the discus. Golf is the only power sport whose instruction teaches you to fight it, and it has been selling that fight, one lesson at a time, for a century. My dad had found the exception by feel. The machine explained the science underneath it, and showed me exactly where the game went wrong.
So I ran the experiment on myself. I rebuilt my swing around the chain and I checked every rep against the machine. Every change filmed, every change run back through AI biomechanical models. When the model and my habits disagreed, I trusted the model. That rabbit hole lasted three years.
When it was done, I had a machine of my own: a true single-plane golf swing with a swing signature the AI had never seen before. No loop: the club never leaves the plane, so there is nothing left to time. The speed is pure angular velocity, the chain unwinding in sequence, which is why 124 mph of clubhead speed, the elite end of the PGA Tour range, looks so quiet. And a fraction of the shear stress on the spine that the conventional power swing loads on. A swing with nothing to time cannot fall apart under pressure.
And the answer the machine kept giving never changed. Golf isn't supposed to be this hard. Despite all the technology, no one is getting better, because the swing they sell is a profit center pitted against the golfer, wrapped in confusion, fragmentation, and outdated science.
Then it left our hands, and the Axis One team was born. A few golfers, then a dozen, then dozens more, and the result never wavered. Not one of them ever met us in person. They made the change with our team over video and text, from wherever they lived, built around a simple promise: learn the swing once, then spend your time on mindset and mastery, not on endless lessons and clinic hours that were never going to fix it.
Every other sport moved to the natural kinetic chain decades ago. Golf never did. Axis One is the correction, and the average student cuts their handicap in half.
Shawn's father, and a teaching pro with sixty-two years in the game: a club champion at thirteen, the mini tours, and a final lesson from Sam Snead. He piloted the chain-based swing with a handful of students, and taught all three of his sons to scratch, before anyone could explain why it worked.
A technologist and AI pioneer who has advised the biggest companies on earth. He took his dad's discovery to AI, confirmed the science and why a century of instruction missed it, then rebuilt the chain in his own swing, a true single-plane motion whose signature the machine had never seen.
The method left one living room and became a team. Every student works with us over video and text, every swing runs through the same AI analysis the method was built with, and the average student cuts their handicap in half.