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Editor’s note: This article is part of The Changemakers series, focusing on the behind-the-scenes executives and people fueling the future growth of their sports.
MASON CITY, Iowa — On a lovely Friday morning in November, two thirty-something friends set out lawn chairs in a garage filled with promise. The fridge is stocked with celebratory beers, and their laptops are open, ready for anyone eager to purchase high-quality golf bags designed specifically for preschoolers.
Tyler Johnson feels a familiar flutter of nerves. “Nobody’s actually going to buy any bags,” he keeps repeating to his friend Jared Doerfler, who is there for moral support. The waitlist is impressively long, yet Tyler mutters, “Maybe I’ll sell 50 bags,” glancing at the 150 bags crowding his garage.
As the clock strikes 10 a.m., the sound of notifications fills the air.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
He is caught off guard by the speed of sales. The blue bags vanish in just four minutes.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
“What the heck is happening?” he exclaims, racing around the garage trying to keep up with the frenzy. The gray bags are sold out in 10 minutes, leaving only the pink ones. Tyler had imagined a conversion rate that would yield fewer than 100 sales, but this was proving to be wildly optimistic.
Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.
Within a mere 28 minutes, all 150 bags are sold.
At 36, Johnson is a former University of Northern Iowa golfer turned software salesman, living in Mason City with his wife, Jolene, and their two children, Charlie and Alivia. He comes from a family of golfers; his father is a golf course superintendent and his grandfather, fondly named Birdie, was a golfer himself. One day, Tyler wanted to introduce Charlie to the sport by taking him to the driving range. However, Charlie lacked a suitable bag, forcing him to lug around loose clubs because the available bags were impractical and poorly designed. So, Tyler decided to create his own — out of his garage. He crafted charming 21.5-inch waxed canvas and leather golf bags tailored for 2- to 5-year-olds in a variety of colors, all while keeping the pricing accessible. He named the venture Charlie Golf Co.
Jared has to leave early to avoid being in Tyler’s way. The promised Friday beers will have to wait. Tyler now has 150 orders to fulfill by hand. By the end of the year, he’ll have shipped thousands. By this November, he will face a life-altering choice: should he quit his job and devote himself entirely to Charlie Golf Co., transforming a side hustle into a full-time career?
The golf equipment industry was shaken up by a father looking to bond with his family. Now, it’s thriving because of that very essence: family.
Time is of the essence, but there’s no need to panic. Jolene Johnson quickly throws on some shoes and heads out to the garage. It’s a monumental day in the Johnson household. They just returned from a brief family vacation in Duluth, Minnesota, and now a reporter is in their kitchen, inquiring about how their little garage startup is gaining traction less than a year after its launch. A charcuterie board filled with meats and cheeses is set up, and croissants from Duluth sit enticingly in a glass cake display. Yet, the most significant event of the day is Charlie’s first day of preschool.
Even their 2-year-old daughter, Alivia, senses the impact, sadly asking, “Char-lee?” as her 4-year-old brother walks away. Tyler holds back his tears, but it’s tough. Jolene, however, cannot contain her emotions. A few hours later, they find themselves in the kitchen contemplating whether Tyler will ever have the opportunity to leave his job behind and lead this toddler golf equipment company full-time.
Before he can express his thoughts, Jolene glances at the microwave and exclaims, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was 10:53! I need to go get Charlie.”
Tyler gently reminds her that the clock is ahead. Nevertheless, she rushes out, and Tyler heads to the heart of Charlie Golf: the garage in suburban Iowa that has ignited a new market in the golfing realm. Currently, over a thousand bags in assorted colors are organized neatly throughout the garage, which can get rather warm on summer days like today. A thousand bags? That would have seemed unimaginable just nine months ago. Then came the sellouts, the waitlists, and the national attention. Multiple PGA Tour players began outfitting their kids with Charlie bags during the Masters Par 3 contest. With Black Friday rapidly approaching, Tyler finds himself at a crossroads: if sales go as projected, Charlie Golf Co. will transform into a significant player in the golf industry and become the center of Tyler’s life. Conversely, if it flops, their lives will still be perfectly fine.
Golf, at its core, is about family, just like this story. A portion of the initial $5,000 investment Tyler made came from a bond his grandfather Birdie — not nicknamed for his golfing prowess but it certainly fits! — had gifted him back in the 1990s, which they discovered only after Birdie passed away. Birdie introduced Tyler’s father, Doug, to the beautiful game, and Doug, in turn, passed that love onto Tyler. He would cut down old clubs, regrip them, and gift them to Tyler as a child, continuing the tradition with all his grandchildren, giving them either a blue or pink grip once he learned their gender. The tiny clubs he crafted for Charlie and Alivia hang proudly on the garage wall.
Charlie simply wants to spend time with his dad. During their father-son outings to the driving range, they carried Charlie’s little clubs since the existing bags were ill-suited for such little ones. They were cumbersome two-strap bags with stands, impractical for toddlers. Moreover, they all looked the same.
Deep down, Tyler Johnson is a starter, a true entrepreneur. He’s the individual brainstorming business ideas with his old golf buddies from Northern Iowa. Currently, he’s also a salesman, serving as the general manager at an asset tracking company selling RFID tags. But Charlie Golf Co. isn’t his first attempt at starting a business; he’s no stranger to the entrepreneurial world. Well, sort of.
He began sketching prototypes of bags using Canva, a graphic design platform, collaborating with manufacturers to send prototypes back and forth, perfecting every little detail. This had to cater to kids, families, and golf enthusiasts alike. The names of those first three bags? The Charlie (blue), the Livvy (pink), and the Birdie (gray).
The golf equipment market is a colossal $15 billion industry, ever-evolving and driven by technological advancements in clubs and balls. In a realm dominated by giants like Callaway, TaylorMade, and Titleist, it’s unconventional to see a software salesman from Iowa disrupt the status quo.
However, it was a simple piece of advice from his friend Jared Doerfler — who runs the Perfect Putt golf newsletter and has launched a boutique putter company called Hanna Golf — that may have planted the seed for Tyler’s success: “Just tell a story.”
Tyler’s narrative centers around family. It’s about the bond he shared with his Grandpa Birdie. It’s about using social media to connect through photos of Charlie and Tyler playing in their garage or chasing Charlie as he dashes across a golf course with his bag on his back or showcasing the extra time spent with his own father. When Tyler first tweeted a link to the bags in October, it went viral. Eight hundred people immediately joined the waitlist, all thanks to organic social media marketing. By the launch date in November, that number swelled to over a thousand. The initial sellout only fueled demand further; the subsequent drop of 300 bags sold out in under 30 minutes.
“I think there’s something about a story that resonates with people,” Johnson remarked. “It’s a family business with a narrative behind it. They can connect with it. And now, in this age of social media, I believe that knowing who you’re buying from is crucial.”
In the early days, they were clueless about the process. Each inventory drop was a whirlwind of chaos. Each additional name on the waitlist sent Tyler’s anxieties skyrocketing. On any given Friday, between 300 to 750 bags would arrive, and the cavalry would converge on Mason City. Tyler would take the day off work, securing a babysitter for the kids. Doug usually made the trip that Friday, while Grandma and both Jolene and Tyler’s aunts would lend a hand on Saturday. The family came together to meet the overwhelming demand.
Tyler insisted on keeping everything personal, as that’s the heart of the company. Each shipment needed to feel special, which meant including a handwritten note with every order. At the start, he would hand-stamp each outgoing shipping box with the Charlie logo, meticulously rolling out the ink, stamping one side, laying them out to dry overnight, and then stamping the other side in the morning. Without a production facility, he initially operated without even a tape dispenser. The waitlist continued to grow. Tyler Johnson ran Charlie Golf Co. from his basement, hand-selecting and preparing each order.
In time, Tyler recognized that the scarcity of products fueled demand and intrigue. However, his mind didn’t always work that way. He despised the thought of people waiting. Each name on the waitlist represented a potential customer who might not stick around when the inventory was finally ready. They gradually improved their processes, preparing boxes more efficiently for each shipment. Yet, Tyler still struggles to slow down, balancing a burgeoning company, a full-time job, and family commitments.
“It’s a lot…” he admitted.
“He’s probably going to be modest about it,” Jolene quipped.
Each morning, Tyler rises at 5 a.m. and spends two hours in the garage preparing orders. He heads to his day job around 8, working tirelessly until he returns home for lunch. After a brief respite, he’s back to his job until around 4:30 — all while his mind is consumed with thoughts of Charlie Golf — before returning home for dinner with his family and putting the kids to bed. More often than not, he finds himself back in the garage, working on manufacturing, new designs, or exploring business avenues like club embroidery. Some nights, he’s so exhausted that he accidentally falls asleep in Charlie’s bed, leaving the garage work for the morning.
Upon returning from Duluth, Tyler found that his dad — who had come to help during his absence — had taken the initiative to write some of the thank-you notes. Tyler interpreted this as a gentle nudge from Doug: “I can help you with this.”
As the business expanded, the 2024 Masters Tournament might have been the tipping point. First, Jessica Hadwin, a social media influencer and wife of PGA Tour golfer Adam Hadwin, reached out to Tyler to purchase a bag for her daughter, Maddox. She then encouraged Adam Schenk’s wife, Courtney, to buy one as well. Their connection grew further when journeyman Peter Malnati won the Valspar Championship, earning a spot in the Masters. His agent happened to be an old Northern Iowa golf teammate, and he got in on the action too.
Tyler was at Doerfler’s shop, watching the Par 3 Contest — an event where players often have their family members caddie for them and their kids run around, even taking swings — when ESPN cameras zoomed in on Malnati on the driving range. There, on display, was Malnati’s son Hatcher, proudly carrying his green Charlie Golf Co. bag.
This was suddenly becoming a tangible reality.
Mason City is a small, blue-collar town in northern Iowa, primarily known for its cement plants and door factory. It doesn’t boast a thriving golf scene, with only two courses and limited resources. However, every Friday morning at Jitters Coffee Bar, you’ll find the most industrious minds of Mason City brainstorming ways to take on the world.
- “There’s not much entrepreneurship in North Iowa,” Doerfler explained, “but most of those who are involved in entrepreneurship will often gather here on Friday mornings.”
So, Johnson and Doerfler make it a point to attend as many weeks as possible to discuss business. They played together at UNI and worked at MetalCraft until Doerfler took the plunge, quitting his job to purchase a mill and teach himself how to craft hand-made putters. Doerfler is candid about the challenges he faces, occasionally questioning whether he’s made a foolish choice, yet he embraces the journey.
Lately, many of these meetings revolve around the future direction of Charlie Golf and, by extension, Tyler’s career.
In the spring, Tyler introduced kids’ golf clubs, quickly gaining traction by staying true to the company’s core values. He insisted on using stainless steel for the clubs, ensuring they resembled real adult clubs but were much lighter than others available in the market. “Kids just want something to swing,” he pointed out. “They’re not going to connect with the ball much. It’s not about that; it’s about having a real golf club in their hands.” Although he isn’t reinventing the wheel with kids’ clubs — a market long dominated by U.S. Kids Golf — he is cultivating a strong, family-oriented brand. If people recognize Charlie Golf, they know it stands for authenticity. Therefore, when parents search for toddler golf clubs, perhaps they’ll lean toward the company that resonates with them.
His Google Analytics data suggests that more people search for clubs than bags, which is logical. While a stylish bag is a nice addition, getting your child into golf starts with the clubs. This realization could very well shape the future of the company.
Tyler has long surpassed the phase where this was merely a hobby. The next hurdle is ensuring that the business is sustainable. With a successful holiday season, Charlie Golf Co. is projected to reach seven figures in revenue, according to Tyler.
Amid this duality of being a CEO and an everyday dad, Tyler faces tough decisions, including pricing: $88 for a bag.
“I’ve had so many people tell me, ‘You’re not charging enough.’ But that wasn’t the goal. When I was growing up, my dad would never spend $100 on a bag for a 2- to 5-year-old. That just wasn’t going to happen. So, I thought, ‘What can I do to make this appealing for all families, ensuring that financial considerations don’t hold them back?’”
Even that price carries family significance. His uncle’s old Iowa dirt track race car number was 88, and at their home course driving range, Doug took a side panel from the car and set it up at the 88-yard mark. Tyler spent his childhood trying to hit three-quarter wedges to that distance, often bouncing off the panel. When it was time to set a price for the clubs, he chose $188.
As the market expands, so does the competition that didn’t exist when he first launched. “Well, you can imagine that once people see the success of it…” Tyler chuckled, preparing himself for the reality that those major corporations would soon enter the toddler bag market.
If Black Friday serves as a litmus test for the future of his company, the 2025 Masters could become a pivotal moment in their journey. Last April marked a significant moment for the Johnson family, and the hope is to build upon that momentum. Can he entice the children of top golfing names to run past the azaleas with a Charlie bag? Or will the brands sponsoring these elite golfers attempt to seize the moment by outfitting their kids with their own merchandise?
As Tyler grapples with these potential challenges, he continues to juggle his day job. Typically, he works alone at the company’s Mason City office, making it all too easy to get sidetracked by thoughts of Charlie Golf.
“I’m on my computer so much, and I have all the tabs open, checking them periodically,” he noted. “It’s tough. Very, very challenging. That’s how I know I need to choose one path or the other.”
Much of this journey is about forecasting the future for a business that defies conventional projections. It’s all uncharted territory. Each inventory purchase represents a new risk, one that could result in a scenario where customers stop buying altogether. The latest order was for 1,700 bags. Tyler, who once stressed about the number of people on the waitlist, now worries about not selling out. That’s typically a positive shift, as his manufacturing capabilities and scale have caught up with the company, resulting in steady sales that no longer rely on chaotic drop days. Yet, he still has to step into the garage each day and confront the sight of bags waiting to be sold.
He has a firmer grasp on the numbers now, realizing that recent months indicate he can support his family through the business. That’s why Black Friday carries such weight. It represents his first real holiday sales season, one that will help determine whether Charlie Golf is here to stay.
Should that be the case, he might finally take the leap to quit his job. Perhaps they’ll expand further. Maybe they’ll even relocate to a dedicated facility.
Regardless of what lies ahead, he can always reflect upon the foundation of this venture: it all began with a father and son working together in a garage.
The Changemakers series is part of a partnership with Acura.
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(Top photo: Brody Miller / The Athletic)
