This article was machine-translated from the Korean original. Read the Korean original
01Prologue: The Cruel Overtime of South Korean Office Workers, Screen Room
Manager Kim, it's Friday night, nobody has plans, right? Let's grab a light dinner and blow off some stress by playing a round at a screen golf room for the first time in a while. I've made a reservation.
"Relieving stress" is, after all, Department Head Park's own story. For Section Chief Kim, who has been tormented by grueling work and his boss's nagging all week, being called to a screen golf room on Friday night is, without a doubt, the most cruel form of "overtime work" in the world—without any extra pay—and is no different from psychological torture.
If the tearful office politics of Korean office workers in the past took place in dark, musty alleys for company dinners where they loosened their ties and drank bomb shots until their noses were crooked, the politics of networking among large corporations, the financial sector, and successful mid-sized companies these days has moved to a completely different, sophisticated(?) space. It is none other than a 'screen golf room'—a dark, private room enclosed by soundproof walls on all sides, where the loud sound of a sensor hitting the ball echoes.
In this space, bosses summon their subordinates using the pretext of popularizing golf in Korea as a shield, and the subordinates engage in a tearful 'entertainment game', staking their performance evaluations and promotion prospects on a single stroke of their boss's golf club trajectory and ball speed.
Major golf magazines and business journals, tasked with currying favor with advertisers and executives of large corporations, are busy glorifying this phenomenon as a healthy and wholesome culture, labeling it a "screen golf trend for office workers aimed at fostering labor-management harmony and camaraderie." However, Club14, which unsparingly and sharply satirizes the hardships of Korean office workers and the hypocritical nature of people both on and off the golf course, does not turn a blind eye to this sad self-portrait. This article is a full-fledged social satire column that realistically dissects the tearful golf politics of Korean office workers unfolding within the private confines of screen golf rooms after sacrificing their Friday night freedom, and presents clever coping strategies for protecting one's mental fortitude while still catering to the whims of condescending bosses.
02Step 1: How to Perform a Soulless Parrot "Nice Shot!"
The fundamental skill and most important core competency of screen golf room politics is 'reaction.' The moment a boss's driver tee shot goes off inside the screen room, an exclamation of admiration must reflexively burst from the subordinates' mouths without a moment's hesitation.
"Wow, Manager! How can your ball speed exceed 65 m/s? You're a total monster!", "Wow, the impact sound puts pros to shame. This hole is definitely an eagle chance!"
It does not matter if your boss's ball on the screen slices into a bunker or splashes into a hazard. You must become a parrot that unconditionally praises and compliments them. If the ball lands in the rough, having the sense to blame the screen machine—saying, "Ah, if the wind hadn't been blowing, it would have been right in the middle of the fairway; the golf course system sensor is acting up"—is a given.
Sitting idly while your boss putts is a shortcut to getting an F in line-climbing politics. When your boss holds the putter and stands in front of the screen, you must stealthily rise from your seat and stand right next to the screen. Then, you need the acting skills to stare at the trajectory of the putt with a serious expression, and when the ball narrowly grazes the hole, cover your head with your hands and put on the most heartbroken look in the world. "Ah! Didn't it go in? The machine misread the green!"
This tearful proxy war of reactions is a desperate survival strategy for office workers to secure the practical benefit of the week's approval documents passing smoothly, in exchange for instilling in their bosses a boastful ego that "I still have strong lower body strength and excellent golf skills."
03Stage 2: The advanced score manipulation technique known as 'Golf to Lose'
The pinnacle and most difficult skill in screen golf is the 'artistic losing' technique that a subordinate who plays golf better than their boss must demonstrate.
Clueless golf novices and immature assistant managers desperately try to get a birdie on the screen and beat their bosses in the score, but this is a suicidal act that leads to the ruin of office politics. It is obvious what the atmosphere will be like at next week's weekly report meeting for Section Chief Kim, who scored lower than Department Head Park over the weekend. The boss is likely to taunt him, saying, "Section Chief Kim, do you not do any work these days and just go to the golf course? Your score is practically pro-level."
Therefore, sensible office workers undertake the 'divine tuning' of setting their score exactly 2 to 3 strokes lower than their boss's score.
The method is cunning. On the front nine holes, he subtly demonstrates his skills by making birdies with spectacular shots, creating tension in his boss that makes him think, "Oh, Manager Kim really sharpened his knife today." This is because it ignites his competitive spirit and makes him immerse himself in the game.
The real turning point comes after the 15th hole on the back nine. If your boss's score is behind yours, you must start staging 'legitimate miss-shots' gradually from this point on.
It is like deliberately putting too much force into the shoulder when hitting a driver shot and sending the ball into the out-of-bounds (OB) zone, or saying, "Oh, my wrist snap suddenly isn't working today," during the short game around the green and hitting a wedge shot like a home run over the back of the green.
The acting prowess of Section Chief Kim, who wipes his sweat and bows his head while saying, "I simply can't match your finishing power, Manager. Your concentration in the second half is truly amazing," at the moment his boss records a par on the final 18th hole to become the ultimate winner. This is precisely the great 'aesthetics of defeat' unique to K-office workers, who lose a 300,000 won bet on a screen golf game to secure a salary increase worth millions of won and a promotion line.
04Stage 3: The Swamp of Extensions Expanding from the Screen Room to the Field
The real reason why politics in screen golf rooms is scary is that the hierarchy and atmosphere within this cramped room lead directly into the swamp of real weekend field rounds, also known as 'entertainment golf.'
I happen to have a tee time reserved at a membership golf course in Yeoju, Gyeonggi Province, but one of our members backed out. Why don't you make time this weekend to fill the numbers?
There is no subordinate in South Korea who can refuse this offer. As Section Chief Kim shouts, "Oh, Manager, it is an honor! I will cancel my entire weekend schedule and attend no matter what," his heart is stained with the nagging and tears of blood from his wife, who has to shoulder the sole responsibility of childcare over the weekend.
Entertainment golf, extended to the actual course on weekends, costs more than ten times as much and causes more physical fatigue than playing in a screen room. One must wake up at 4 a.m. to drive to the boss's doorstep and volunteer to act as a chauffeur, and on the course, heartbreaking expenses arise as subordinates split the cart and caddy fees equally to pay for the boss's share as well. Trapped in this massive cycle of overtime work—tightened by approval forms at the office on weekdays and by drivers on the course on weekends—the lives of Korean office workers are slowly drying up like grass dolls.
05Editor's Note: Put down your golf clubs and look at the man
One cannot criticize the psychology of using golf for internal politics and networking. Just as one had to drink bomb shots that others avoided to survive in the fierce organizational society of South Korea, we have simply entered an era where one must swing a driver that others do not.
However, the true charm of the noble sport of golf lies in its 'honesty.' On the course, the ball travels only as far as the sweat I have put into practice, and no matter how high a rank one holds—whether as a vice president or a president—one is merely a helpless golfer in the face of grass and wind that cannot be controlled by one's will. The sight of a boss bringing their rank insignia onto the fairway to crave soulless praise from subordinates, or a subordinate who artfully loses by falsifying their honest score just to survive, is a sorrowful comedy born of Korea's uniquely bitter organizational culture.
Tonight, without fail, screen golf rooms across the country are likely witnessing the explosion of bosses' wild swings accompanied by soulless shouts of "Nice shot!" To the Section Chiefs Kims who are diligently clapping to please Department Head Park, I urge you to stand on a teeing ground entirely for yourself this weekend—not following your boss's lead, but finding your own perfect swing trajectory. Your career lifespan may be finite, but the green grass of golf you love will always be there, honestly waiting for you.
