Chris Fischer’s divot tools are functional works of art that represent their maker’s love for golf — and life.

CHANCES ARE YOU don’t have a $100+ divot repair tool in your pocket. Maybe you should. Not just because Chris Fischer’s tools are awesomely cool, but because Chris Fischer himself is awesomely cool.

To illustrate the level of care, craftsmanship and humanity that goes into a Chris Fischer tool, think Stradivarius. Yes, about $10 million cheaper, but as coveted by IYKYK golfers as Strads are by world-class fiddlers.

So what distinguishes a $100 divot tool? (And $100 is on the low end. Order the works and you might shell out four bills.) To the aforementioned care and craftsmanship, add customization. Each tool is a one-off; no two alike. They’re not even the same length. Why?

“Partly because I don’t like measuring,” Fischer says, “but also to eliminate the possibility of there ever being a duplicate. Everyone gets a one of one, no matter if they wanted one or not.”

Fischer’s tools are as finely machined as you might expect from a guy who cut his teeth as a machinist for an engineering firm that makes crude-oil pumps, where tolerances have to approach perfection. Until recently, his single-pronged tools featured not only a sleek, shiny brass shaft, but also a colorful acrylic or resin handle.

Again, no two tools are alike. He had to abandon working with resin on advice from his doctors after a bout with cancer last year (more about that later), so today the handle is composed of anodized aluminum, often fashioned as a colorful set of spinners. “Kind of like fidget spinners. They keep you entertained while you’re waiting on the group in front of you.” Then he adds, deadpanning, “You can take your mind off your next shot while you stand there playing with your tool.”

To truly appreciate the beauty of Fischer’s tools, it helps to know a bit about the 32-year-old guy who makes them. Fischer lives in Riverside with his wife, Ashley, and three young daughters. He loves golf. Introduced to the game by an aunt, he played in SCGA Junior tournaments, made his La Mirada High School team and later played in various amateur tournaments. He dreamed of becoming a competitive golfer, “but I really just didn’t have the chops. Couldn’t put together a good front and a decent back.” By then he’d begun working in auto shops, first for Volvo, then Honda, then in the oil industry and later as a sewer-engineering machinist. He knew how to tool tools.

When Fischer was laid off during COVID, he couldn’t handle idleness, so he decided to apply his skill to building — or, more accurately, rebuilding — golf clubs. He bought a set of used, too-small Mizunos, ordered some longer shafts and funny-colored ferrules on eBay, added some cool grips and trotted off to the range.

“I had maybe $350 into these clubs. When a gentleman about my size came up to me and asked if I’d be interested in selling the clubs, I said, ‘Make me an offer’ and he said, ‘Would you take $700?’ I’m like, ‘Absolutely I would!’”

Light bulb time. “Oh man, I could keep this going and basically flip golf clubs for a living.” Which he did for a while. A friend introduced him to Instagram, where Fischer adopted the handle Custom Klubs (you can follow him @klubshandmades). He developed a decent following and sold a lot of clubs. “But I kind of burned out,” he recalls. Building for 15-handicappers was one thing, but trying to scale clubs for better, fussier golfers who wanted progressive swing weighting, flatter or more upright lie angles, exact grip diameters — that was quite another.

THE AFFRABLE FISCHER IS EVERYONE’S COUSIN. AND ON INSTAGRAM, HIS UNIVERSE OF COUSINS GREW TO MORE THAN 15,000 ADMIRERS, CUSTOMERS AND COLLECTORS

Second light bulb: “I realized that I hated all of the divot tools that were on the market at the time.” Fischer was tired of $40 tools that “either made my ball repair worse or would break or bend.”

Ergo: “I’m going to go home and take some of my old brass brazing rod and figure out how to make this the right diameter to make an ergonomic, comfortable tool that won’t bend and that won’t damage the putting surface — that will serve me well over time without me really having to think that much about it.” The result amounted to a sleek brass tee with a handle.

Over the next few months, when Fischer would play with groups, he’d be asked about it. He’d answer, “It’s my divot tool.” They’d say, “Hey, would you make me one?” And so he did, as he evolved the tool to incorporate gorgeous acrylic inlay handles. He also fashioned leather pouches, color-matched, monogrammed and beautifully stitched. Tired of explaining that Custom Klubs didn’t make custom clubs, he became Cousin Klubs. The moniker fit. The affable Fischer is everyone’s cousin. And on Instagram, his universe of cousins grew to more than 15,000 admirers, customers and collectors.

Then came the Big C.

He was playing golf in Huntington Beach when he noticed that something was different. “I had this weird internal feeling that something just felt off with my left testicle.”

Maybe he’d just lifted something the wrong way — “did something weird.” But two weeks later, playing golf at David L. Baker in Fountain Valley, he stepped into a sprinkler hole and doubled over in pain. “I was like, oh man, that is wrong.”

The next day he went with Ashley — a nurse educator — to Loma Linda University Medical Center. “At 11:36, Sept. 28, 2024, they told me I had Stage 3 testicular cancer. But I knew, very simply, that dying wasn’t an option. I wasn’t going to let something come in and take over my life when I had already done all the hard work.”

The surgery took place the next morning. As Fischer wrote on Instagram, “The amazing urology team at LLUH removed my left lil homie yesterday morning like I was in the express lane. All went well. I’m given a new perspective, a chance, 1 ball and 1 tee for the rest of my round.”

Fischer shared his progress on Instagram, right on through months of chemo, hair loss, gradual recovery and remission. For Fischer, it was a way to promote his own healing by encouraging men not to overlook possible troublesome medical issues. “Don’t ‘be a man,’” he wrote. “Go get your nuts checked out, fellas. You aren’t above the low chances.” A devoted squad of Instagram cousins cheered from the gallery.

“Your growth is astounding,” wrote a typical commenter. “You should be absolutely proud of yourself, the journey in life you have had. Your insight is not just beautiful but full of wisdom and at a young age.”

These days a healthy, burly, ever-cheerful Chris Fischer plays Riverside’s General Old GC every Sunday morning, rain or shine, dark and early. “I prefer to play the first two holes in the dark,” he says, “so I tee off at about 5:20. Nothing around, just you, the homie and the birds. I never play a round there and leave without a smile on my face, no matter what.”

As for the tools, don’t look for a Cousin Klubs website or Instagram store. If you want one, DM him on Instagram and the two of you can work it out. If you’re not into triple digits for a divot tool, no worries. “If you’re hitting a couple greens a round, I would way rather teach you how to make a $4 divot tool and how to use it than for me to sell you a $400 divot tool.

“But as long as people keep buying them, I’ll keep making them.”