This article was machine-translated from the Korean original. Read the Korean original
01Prologue: 18 Holes, a Four-Person Cart, and a Business Card
At 7 a.m. on a weekend, four middle-aged men gather in the clubhouse lobby for their scheduled tee time. Before even asking about each other's handicaps, they have already memorized each other's company names, job titles, and recent sales figures. Once the round begins, the inside of the golf cart becomes a hotter negotiation table than the fairway.
In Korea, at least, the saying that golf is an "extension of business" is the absolute truth. However, one can tell just how far that extension goes simply by looking at the piles of business cards under the cart seat and the numbers written on the scorecards. Today, we observe how the "exchange of business cards" and "score bragging" taking place inside that cramped cart complement each other to complete the double lives of middle-aged golfers.
02Business Card Exchange in the Cart: A Single Sheet of Paper Handed Instead of a Handshake
As soon as you finish your tee shot on the first hole and step into the cart, the first thing you are handed is not a driver, but the other person's business card. Handed over with the greeting, "Mr. President, are your results for this quarter doing well?", this thick business card is considered a token of trust stronger than a golf shoelace.
If you don't exchange business cards at the golf course, that round is just exercise. Business starts in the golf cart.Executive Director of a mid-sized construction company in Gangnam
The back of business cards often lists the golf course membership number, preferred club, and even the favorite single malt whiskey brand. Business cards that share such personal tastes naturally lead to promises made during a round, such as, "If you get a birdie on this hole, I'll treat you to a drink." In this way, the golf cart is filled with business cards and promises for drinks instead of contracts.
03Numbers on the scorecard, and the aesthetics of pretense
Once the exchange of business cards is over, one's gaze naturally turns to the scorecard. The numbers proudly written, such as "I saved par on this par 4 hole with a two-on and two-putt," are not merely a record of strokes. They are a middle-aged man's self-certificate that "I am still young" and "my body is still healthy."
In particular, the news that a driver has exceeded 250 meters elicits the loudest cheers inside the golf cart. Playmates applaud, saying, "Boss, your driving distance today is incredible," and that applause immediately leads to a business closing: "Then let's proceed with that project next week." Score equals trust, and driving distance equals power.
When I hit 260 meters, it feels like I've secured another contract for the day. Because the numbers give me strength.Venture capital CEO, single golfer
04Editor's Note: The moment you step out of the cart, the real game begins.
As you step out of the cart and head to the clubhouse lounge, the business card and scorecard left in your hand serve as receipts proving the day's 'performance.' However, what truly matters is how sincerely those business cards lead after the round ends. Once the boastful bragging about driving distances and the exchange of cards are over, all that remains are mutual glances and promises.
A true business golfer is not someone who hands out business cards from inside the cart, but rather someone who answers calls, shares drinks, and reviews contracts even after the round is over. Let us not get intoxicated by the flashy numbers and a single sheet of paper inside the cart, but prepare for the 'real swing' once we leave the green. In the next issue, we will delve into the clandestine price-fixing of golf course membership exchanges and the power map hidden behind them. We wish our readers a dignified golf cart life.
