Sig P210 Review: Shot Caller
They say power corrupts. And after shooting 1,000 rounds through my Sig P210…
I get it.
Because I’ve gotten greedy. For effortless accuracy and casual bullseyes. For a no-BS 3lb trigger. For a gun that translates my grandiose ambitions for accuracy into a stark, authoritarian reality of my own design.
With zero protest. Zero resistance. And 100% _uck!ng loyalty.
So, my fellow gun hipsters…
Y’all wanna be ballers? Shot callers? Do you crave the power to make 9mm bullets wholly subservient to your will?
Behold—the Sig P210.
And “yes,” this is the U.S.-made version. Because I ball-out at the range—not the bank.
Y’all know who calls the shots
What makes the Sig P210 hipster worthy?
Combining surgical build quality with an impeccably precise trigger, the P210 provides an empowering a sense of control over every shot you take—with no drama and no BS.
Let’s be honest.
There’s no shortage of accurate handguns out there. And there’s no shortage of accurate handguns that make shot placement… easy. For lack of a better word.
But there’s something poignantly purposeful about the way the P210 does accuracy. The P210 does accuracy like Steven Seagal does wrist fractures. The P210 does accuracy like Peter N0rth does bu$ty blondes.
Clean. Precise. Efficient.
From the trigger’s uniquely delicate break, to the vaultlike slide-to-frame fit, everything about the P210 exudes not only precision…
But intent.
You get the sense every aspect of its design exists to serve a singular purpose: accuracy. It’s solid. It’s stable. It points like a mini sniper rifle. In that, it feels functional. It feels efficient. But in a way that’s enticing and alluring. Like it wants you to shoot it.
Don’t get me wrong. It feels good. But not the “touchy-feely-platonic-friend” kinda good.
No, the P210 means business. And business…
BANG!
…is damn good. If you’re in the market for bullseyes.
50 rounds @ 10 yards
Swiss Missed
Before I further extoll the P210’s virtues as a brooding executor of your tactical will… let’s address the 800lb douchey, pretentious hipster in the room:
“Seriously? An AMERICAN-made P210? Can you even call yourself a gun hipster!? REAL P210s were made in Switzerland by elite craftsmen, using only the finest steels and time-honored methods. This gun is just MIM, marketing and lies.”
Yeah, sometimes my inner gun hipster is a real douchebag.
But he’s not entirely incorrect.
I’m sure most of you know the original P210 was produced in Switzerland, beginning in the late 1940s. There was also a version made in Germany—the P210 Legend—from 2010 to 2016. Most of you also know the gun I’m reviewing here represents a modern “reinterpretation” of the original P210 design, which is currently made in New Hampshire.
It’s sometimes called the “P210A.”
Top: Swiss P210 | Middle: 2x German P210s | Bottom: U.S. P210A
And, as my as$hole hipster alter-ego pointed out, the P210A isn’t exactly cut from the same cloth as its European predecessors:
The P210A uses MIM for all internal/small parts—not machined steel.
The P210A uses an ejection-port lockup, instead of concentric barrel lugs.
The P210A uses “chemical machining” instead of traditional hand fitting.
The P210A uses a slightly different extractor configuration.
The P210A uses a different guide-rod/spring that’s prone to breakage.
And “yes,” that last point about the guide-rod breaking is true: I’ve broken TWO guide-rod assemblies in this gun. And while it’s ridiculous Sig has ignored the issue, I will say this: it has ZERO impact on the gun’s functionality.
In fact, this gun has been impressively reliable, running exclusively on broken guide-rod assemblies. I’ll talk more about this issue later, but rest assured: It’s not a big deal.
It’s also worth noting that the P210A comes (or came?) in three flavors:
The P210A Standard (what I’ve got)
The P210A Target
The P210A Carry
The Target is functionally identical to the Standard—it just has fancier grips and target sights. The Carry has a shorter slide with a simplified barrel-cam setup, as well as an aluminum frame. As far as I know, the Target is the only model that’s still available new.
What’s in a Name?
Anyway…
Other than the stupid guide-rod issue, the P210A is an objectively phenomenal pistol. In addition to being highly reliable, the fit, finish and build quality is as close to perfection as I’ve seen in a handgun. And I don’t think you’ll find another pistol this accurate for less than two grand.
Nevertheless, the question remains: Is it worthy of the P210 name?
I’ll give you my honest opinion:
“Yes.”
My P210A w/ its factory wood grips—very nice, but I like G10
Now, I haven’t shot a Swiss or a German P210. So, take my perspective for what it is. But I get the sense the P210A and the OG P210s offer a similar shooting experience. Though that’s predicated on secondary perspectives (forums, blogs, reviews) from those who’ve experienced the originals and the P210A.
Of course, opinions on shooting are subjective. But mechanics aren’t. And when you look inside an American-made P210A, what you find is unmistakably, unequivocally and undeniably…
P210.
With that in mind, let’s talk about what actually makes a P210 a P210, from a mechanical standpoint.
Caveat: I’m not an engineer. But I AM probably less boring than an engineer.
Probably.
Better Than Petter?
The foundations of what became the Sig P210 first show up in Charles Petter’s M1935A pistol, designed in…
You guessed it, 1935.
Like a baguette with bullets, the M1935A offered refined ergonomics in a svelte, classy package. It chambered the somewhat underpowered 7.65mm “longue” cartridge, which meant it could stay more “petit” than other 9mm pistols of the day. The M1935A became the standard French military sidearm in 1937.
Just in time to be ZERO help in the German invasion of 1940.
M1935A - Like a P210 that eats escargot and sips Chardonnay (Wikipedia)
But, hey… it looked good.
At its heart, the M1935A works like a 1911. It uses a tilting barrel with a swinging link setup (though it does use two links instead of one). But beyond that, Petter incorporated three clever—albeit subtle—innovations that set the M1935A apart from its contemporaries:
A Bushingless Muzzle. Petter used a sloped aperture in the slide to support the barrel while allowing it to tilt. This eliminated the need for a separate bushing, making lockup more consistent. Most pistols today still use this design.
A Removable Fire-Control Group. The hammer, strut, sear and other bits were combined into a discrete housing that could be conveniently removed and tuned. Neato.
Steeply Angled Trigger Bar. Though it does use a top-pivot trigger, the M1935A’s trigger bar pushes directly on the sear instead of pulling on it—like a 1911. Petter achieved this by running the trigger bar at a steep angle from the back of the trigger, to the top of the sear.
Apparently, these features caught the attention of the Swiss Army. They’d been looking for something refined and bougie to replace their turn-of-the-century Lugers. So, shortly before the war, Switzerland’s leading arms manufacturer—Schweizerische Industrie-Gesellschaft (or SIG)—purchased a license to use Petter’s design.
But not without some “tweaks.”
Take it to the Max
During the war years, SIG’s lead engineer—Max Mueller—proceeded to transform Petter’s quaint little bistro blaster into a raging beast of precise mechanical brutalism. In that process, Mueller introduced three revolutionary new design elements:
Inverted Frame Rails. Mueller flipped the script, so the slide rides inside the frame. Some say this lowers bore-axis, but it doesn’t inherently change the height of the bore. It simply reduces play in the slide-frame fit, which also helps ensure a more consistent barrel lockup.
A Closed-Slot Barrel Cam. Instead of a 1911-style swinging link or a Hi-Power-style “open-slot” cam, Mueller devised a fully enclosed cam slot that further tightened barrel lockup. Moreover, the cam lug was bisected into (essentially) two side-by-side loops, so the end of the guide rod could squeeze between them. Genius.
A Humongous Ramp. Bro, this thing is deeeeeep. And wide. And smooth. The Hi Power pioneered the use of a barrel-integrated feed ramp… but this thing takes it to a whole ‘nother level.
Mueller also scaled the platform up to accommodate a 9mm chambering. Apparently, SIG experimented with some double-stack versions of the design, but they ultimately decided to stick with the proven 8-round single stack.
1960s Swiss P210 (Wikipedia)
The finished product retained the best features of Petter’s original concept, while breaking new ground in terms of raw accuracy and reliability. The Swiss Army adopted the Mueller/Petter design in 1948, as the P49 pistol.
Though, to the rest of the world, it became known as the “SIG P210.”
A name that’s synonymous with precision, quality, accuracy and not being able to afford one unless you’re a retired dentist. With a well-diversified portfolio.
Ballin’ on a Budget
But I’m no dentist. Nor was I ever.
And I—a snarky copywriter with a mortgage and a Subaru—own a P210A. Which I bought for less than a grand.
So, what did that $961.50 get me?
Well… in addition to making me feel like a str8 baller every time I shoot it… it got me allll of the Petter/Mueller innovations I just covered in the preceding section. In other words, it got me all of the things that make a P210, a P210.
I made an infographic to illustrate this:
All from my P210A—Petter’s innovations on top, Mueller’s on the bottom
And while the construction and materials have changed since 1949, each of these elements remains faithful to the form, function and geometry of the original design. And to be clear, you definitely can remove the FC group on the P210A—though I haven’t done it.
So, if that doesn’t convince you the P210A is a legit, dyed-in-the-wool, ride-or-die, _otha’ phuck!n’ P210…
Look at these targets, bro.
Callin’ Shots
I’ve never experienced another pistol that so exactingly translates aim to impact.
A 1911 comes close. So does a Beretta PX4 and an HK P9S. But the P210’s inputs—in terms its trigger and its handling qualities—feel sharper and more focused. Which makes shot placement feel more direct. And more precise.
In other words, the P210 gives you absolute power to impose your will upon your target.
After a while, you get used to it. You start to expect it. You walk with a swagger. You express yourself in monosyllabic utterances and nonchalant head nods. You unironically bump the first verse of All About the Benjamins on the way home from the range.
But just the first verse—because that song is _uck!ng annoying after about 30 seconds.
Merely holding the P210, you’re imbued with a sense of dashing fortitude. The grip kicks back into your palm at a fairly steep angle… hinging your wrist down… eeeasing the slide into an assertive orientation. It’s like the thing freakin’ aims itself.
The neighbors must love me
You feel the gun’s length, reaching toward your target. But also the weight of slide, projecting forward. It’s not front-heavy, per se. But the gun’s center of gravity feels like it’s pulled forward, along the axis of the bore—which helps stabilize your point of aim.
The sights fall into a neutral, static equilibrium. Everything feels solid. Everything feels balanced. And you feel… ready.
But the real magic happens when you pull this trigger.
Metaphysical Magic
After some negligible take-up, you find a firm—but delicate—wall.
BANG! Bullseye.
It breaks decisively. Like brittle glass. “Light” is an understatement: tripping the sear requires scarcely more than a well-placed fingertip and a modicum of intent.
The trigger’s rearward travel barely registers. And when the hammer falls, the energy disperses seamlessly. There’s no weighty “thwack.” There’s no sense of shock from the hammer’s impact; the energy it releases seems to have zero effect on the gun’s position… which leaves your point of aim completely undisturbed as you break the wall.
And while the reset is somewhat anemic… you kinda don’t care.
BANG! Bullseye.
P210 stuntin’ with OG walnut
It’s almost like the P210’s trigger violates the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle: the inputs don’t color the outcome.
The recoil impulse is similarly subdued.
Long Train Runnin’
BANG! Bullseye.
You feel the slide’s momentum propagating rearward. Softly. Steadily. Like a coasting freight train. In a way, it feels like the recoil cycle happens in front of your hands. Like the primary transfer of energy takes place farther forward in the gun.
The muzzle rises gently, then settles—as the gun’s center of gravity promptly returns forward. It’s as not flippy as a Sig P226. It’s not as straight-back and punchy as a Glock.
BANG! BANG! BANG! Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye.
Everything about the shooting experience feels purposeful and predictable. Measured and meticulous. Everything you give the gun… it obeys. Faithfully and diligently.
You call the shots. It makes the hits. No questions asked.
But what if you make a mistake?
The Unforgiven?
I’ve heard one fairly prominent YouTuber (Bloke on the Range, with TFBTV) say the P210 is so accurate, it’s “unforgiving.”
Now, that may seem counterintuitive. But I understand his point: if the gun exactingly obeys every input you give it, it will exactingly translate your errors to the target.
That hasn’t been my experience, however. For me, the refined characteristics of the P210’s interface make it easier to avoid errors.
As I’ve sought to express, the trigger in this thing is literally an easy button. Over the course of 1,000 rounds, there were several instances where I thought I mashed it, flinched it, or otherwise jacked-up my trigger pull…
Yet, I still bullseyed some sh!t.
Moreover, the weight, the balance and the ergos all contribute to more consistent inputs, making slips, flinches and flubs less likely. So, generally speaking I think the P210 is extraordinarily easy to shoot well.
All that said…
I shot this gun a lot—because this kinda accuracy is just fun
The Aim Game
The P210 is an “aimer’s gun.” It’s not necessarily a “gamer’s gun.”
It thrives on purposeful, measured inputs. It asks for your focus and delivers on your intent. And it DOES respond well when you shoot faster… up to a certain point. As long as your pace is steady and controlled, the P210 will put up impressively coherent groups
And “yes,” you can aggressively mag dump this thing. You can cook-off double taps like you’re John Wick in a Bratva bathhouse. It’s a heavy gun with a light trigger—it’ll do that.
But you’re kinda missing the point.
If you want to launch gratuitous salvos of lead at steel plates… there are better options. With shorter resets, flatter recoil and more generous capacity. The Archon Type-B comes to mind.
On the other hand…
If you want to place a 9mm slug wherever the F you want it. Easily and effortlessly. With a baller-@ss smirk on your face…
I can think of no better option than the P210.
To put it simply, the P210 is the most perfect-shooting handgun I’ve experienced. Then again... “perfect” isn’t always what we’re looking for.
Just ask my wife.
Pistole perfection?
The Price of Perfection
With certain guns, you feel something.
Something that echoes through the kinetic fabric of the shot you’re taking. Something elusive. Something intangible. Something that transcends your intent and plays to your instincts.
And whatever that “something” is…
I don’t feel it as much with the P210, compared to some other guns.
Now, this isn’t a rebuke of the P210. I can’t tell you how much I love this gun. But the P210 is sooo sedate and restrained in terms of the feedback it offers… I don’t find it as engaging as, say, a Beretta 92. Or a 1911.
Case and point:
The trigger on my Springfield Mil-Spec 1911 isn’t nearly as precise as the trigger on my P210. But it feels better. The strike of the hammer resonates through the frame, giving you context and feedback… and, therefore… a tactile point of reference for your next shot.
The P210, on the other hand, feels kinda numb when the hammer falls. Insulated, you might say. And—as I’ve pointed out—that serves the P210’s ability to shoot precisely: there’s no extraneous forces to undermine your point of aim.
Still, there’s something to be said for shooting on feel. Sure, you’ve gotta do your part, at the conscious level. But some guns speak to you. Through the recoil impulse. Through the machinations and reverberations of the slide, the hammer and the trigger.
The P210 just listens.
And, again, that’s not necessarily a criticism.
However, this next point is.
The P210A’s Guide Rod is a Piece of Sh!t
Coy headlines be damned. It is what it is.
And while this problem ISN’T a deal breaker in my opinion (‘tis but a minor annoyance TBH), it is a prime example of why so many people have lost trust in the modern iteration of Sig Sauer.
They ignore the issue. Sound familiar? And “yes,” I did actually call Sig CS to see if there had been any updates to the part: “Umm, I dunno. Wanna send it in?”
Please, Kyle. Please. (FYI, all Sig Sauer employees are named “Kyle.”)
Without getting into the weeds on the trials and tribulations of modern-day Sig, let’s talk about what this issue is and how to deal with it.
By default, the P210A uses a captive spring/guide-rod setup (the OG P210 does, too—only it doesn’t suck). The spring is held in place by a washer and screw, which threads into the tip of the rod.
The top one (purchased new) broke within one range trip
The screw often breaks (because it’s made of pot metal and lies) and the spring ceases to be captive. Which means YOU have to compress the spring onto the rod manually. Which is a fairly mild pain in the @ss.
ALSO: The P210A Carry uses a different guide-rod/spring design, which is immune to this issue.
Compression Discretion
To be clear…
The gun runs just fine with an uncaptured spring. From the gun’s perspective, it makes zero difference whether the spring is captured or not. I’ve put 1,000 rounds though mine, running exclusively on uncaptured (i.e., broken) factory guide-rod assemblies. Zero issues.
But…
You DO have to properly position the washer (originally held in place by the screw) in the slide before installing the rod/spring. And, to do that, you have to put the barrel in first—otherwise, the barrel won’t have enough clearance to get past the washer. Also… there’s divot/bevel on one side of the washer. Be sure that is oriented toward the muzzle.
Position the washer like so, before compressing the spring
Anyway…
First off, I find it helps to put the washer onto the rod WITHOUT the spring, then guide it into the spring tunnel. Slide the rod out (leaving the washer in place), then poke the spring in there to make sure the washer is flush against the muzzle-end of the spring tunnel.
Next, thread the spring onto the rod and insert it into the spring tunnel so the end of the spring bears against the washer.
As you compress the spring, it’ll bow outwards. So, you’ve gotta guide and contain the spring with your other hand, as you urge it forward into the spring tunnel.
Eventually, it’ll kinda “go solid” before it goes all the way in. Hold it in place and jiggle it around to unbind the coils and allow the rod to pass all the way through. Once it does, anchor the flat end in the barrel cam, and you’re good to go.
You’ll cuss the first time or two. But once you get the hang of it, it’s not that hard.
Now, if you don’t want to F with this…
DPM Systems makes a captured recoil assembly for the P210A—which doesn’t break. A lot of people have had good luck with this product. However, it does introduce a greater number of variables with differing spring weights (you’re supposed to use progressively heavier springs, as the round count increases) as well as different spacer/washer sizes.
For now, I’m just going to stick with the factory system. It’s simple—despite the mild annoyance of installing it. And as I said, it’s been 100% reliable over 1,000 rounds.
Which brings me back to this idea of “trust” and Sig Sauer.
Trust is Earned
This gun runs everything.
FMJs, JHPs, sh!tty reman. It runs all of the above when it’s clean. It runs all of the above when it’s dirty as hell. It always locks back. It ejects consistently.
I trust this gun implicitly. Because it earned my trust.
In sexy guns we trust
It’s ironic, because I recently purchased two brand-new CZ-75s (well, one is a P-01). Both of those guns exhibited teething issues in the first 100 rounds or so. If anything, I’d expect a tight-toleranced gun like the P210 to be more of an ammo diva.
It. Just. Isn’t.
So…
Despite the guide-rod issue… despite our (justifiable) tendency to criticize Sig Sauer, of late…
I believe that Sig made a truly excellent pistol, with the P210A. I think the engineers who worked on this gun (e.g., Kyle and Kyle) should be proud. Because I’m proud to own this gun. Hell, I might even carry this gun. Despite being lengthy and heavy, it is pretty svelte overall. And it has a solid, positive manual safety.
And I know I can ball-out with some badd@ss accuracy, should the need arise. And that—my fellow gun hipsters—is really the point of the Sig P210.
Cue poignant conclusion.
Poignant Conclusion
Power is what transforms desire into reality.
Power represents your ability to project your will, decisively and effectively. And to me, no other pistol exemplifies the definitive nature of power, more than the Sig P210.
Not because it’s thunderous, boisterous or cantankerous. But because it doesn’t need to be. It can do more in a few well-placed rounds than most guns can do with an entire box of ammo. It embodies maximum effect with minimal effort. It is the essence of quality over quantity. It is a man of few words and unfathomable aptitude.
And I think THAT is what alllll those rap songs really mean, when they talk about being a “shot caller.”
Is it just me, or is that a halo?
Thank you so much for reading.
What are your thoughts on the Sig P210? Experiences? Opinions? Scathing condemnations on my review? Feel free to share below…
#hiptac
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