This article was machine-translated from the Korean original. Read the Korean original
01Prologue: The Clubhouse That Becomes a Ward Before Even Standing on the First Hole Teeing Ground
At 6:30 in the morning, a peculiar scene unfolds when you enter the clubhouse breakfast restaurant or locker room. They are clearly stylish middle-aged men driving high-end imported cars worth hundreds of millions of won, fully dressed in the latest golf wear worth millions of won, yet the conversations pouring out of their mouths are at the level of a waiting room at a university hospital's comprehensive medical checkup center.
"Oh my, Mr. Kim, I couldn't sleep a wink last night because I had an upset stomach. I don't know if I'll even be able to hit the ball today." "Don't even get me started. I think I slightly tore my rotator cuff playing tennis last week because my backswing isn't going up at all." "I drank a lot of mixed drinks at a business dinner yesterday, and I'm still feeling dizzy." Before even reaching the first hole, at least three of the four companions have already turned into critically ill patients on the verge of being admitted to the intensive care unit.
Any golfer who has stepped onto the grass of the Korean course for over a decade, through all four seasons, knows the true nature of this awkward and artificial performance. They know that the players are not actually groaning in pain because they are sick. This is a scene of extremely petty and calculated "strategic sandbagging," staged solely to justify their scores and the tens of thousands of won at stake in the latter part of the round.
Major golf media outlets are busy packaging this disgusting scene as "golfers' affectionate humility" or "heartwarming conversation out of consideration for playing partners." It is the typical hypocrisy of established media that never sheds light on the dark corners of the golf course out of fear of upsetting their major corporate sponsors. However, Club14, which takes on the role of delivering bone-chilling venom, never lets this shabby, bottom-of-the-barrel psychology of middle-aged Koreans slide.
02The 3-Step 'Exaggeration Technique' to Lower Defenses and Beg for a Handicap
Why on earth do perfectly healthy men's limbs get destroyed only on the night before a round of golf? The answer is simple. It is to break down the guard of their playing partners, gain an advantageous position in a betting game, or set up a firewall that provides a good excuse when their shots go awry.
The tenacious 'strategic sandbaggers' on the field generally carry out the following three sophisticated groundwork steps.
- Step 1 (Rumors in the KakaoTalk chat room 12 hours before tee-off): On the night before the round, someone randomly posts a picture of a pain relief patch or a bag of medicine from the hospital in the group chat and drops bait saying, "Let's not make a bet tomorrow and just go for a walk."
- Step 2 (Postponing the clubhouse meal): While eating morning cabbage hangover soup, he repeatedly rubs his chest or takes out a pill from a traditional Korean medicine clinic from his pocket and chews it, making a pitiful face at his companions.
- Step 3 (Handicap acquisition before tee shot on hole 1): Stand on the teeing ground, place both hands on your hips and groan, then stealthily attempt to manipulate the stakes by saying, "My shots were a disaster today, so let's just start with an extra 5 basic handicaps."
The purpose of this desperate farce is only one thing. It is an impure intention to induce the opponent to let their guard down, thinking, "Ah, that guy isn't in good condition today, so I can win even if I just play half-heartedly," while simultaneously using the miraculous logic of "See, I told you my shoulder hurt earlier" to console oneself when one hits a bad shot.
There was a boss in the locker room who kept whining about being sick and even took medicine. He screamed and groaned throughout the first nine holes, but when the stakes doubled in the second half, he unbelievably transformed into Tiger Woods and snatched up razor-sharp birdies.Mr. K, a 12-year veteran caddy at a membership golf course in the metropolitan area
03Men who miraculously receive the grace of the Virgin Mary when the double bet is engaged in the back nine.
The true meanness of sandbaggers is dramatically revealed on the back nine, especially during the moments of 'double bets' or 'drawing bets' where the stakes get high.
The man, who had been slamming his iron shots into the ground and repeatedly crying out, "Oh, my back!" throughout the first half, suddenly transforms into a fierce composure around the 14th hole of the second half when his playing partners have run out of money and the stakes are at a disadvantage, as if he had never been in pain. Watching him execute the entire backswing perfectly, from the top to the pause, and sink the ball just one meter from the pin, one even gets the illusion that the miraculous healing grace of the Virgin Mary has descended upon the fairway.
On the face of the man who has made a birdie and snatched crisp 50,000-dollar bills from his companions' wallets, the morning pain and sorrow have vanished without a trace, replaced by a sinister smile. The sportsmanship of competing fairly based on skill and accepting the result is nowhere to be found; only the joy of a swindler who has cleverly exploited an opponent's carelessness to empty their pockets remains.
The sight of middle-aged men voluntarily playing the victim for the sake of a few tens of thousands of won and a pathetic sense of face they do not want to lose among their companions is not just bitter, but downright sorrowful. This deformed betting culture and acting party, which takes place every day on Korean golf courses under the pretext of the noble sport of golf, is one of the ugliest hypocrisies of K-golf.
04Editor's Note: If you're really sick, go to the emergency room, not the field.
I want to ask the men who cannot fully trust their own swing and skills, and who erect firewalls with all sorts of excuses and feigning pitifulness even before the round begins: Is the makgeolli you buy at the clubhouse with the tens of thousands of won you emptied your playing partners' wallets to gain a few extra strokes by whining like that truly sweet?
The dignity of a true single-digit handicap golfer and a true adult stems from the confidence of honestly admitting one's poor condition and missed shots. Acknowledging that you are not feeling well or that your condition is bad, and defending your sweet spot, is the minimum courtesy required of anyone standing on the golf course.
To all you men out there today who post photos of pain patches in your KakaoTalk chat the night before a round, or prepare a pitiful act while clutching your chest in the clubhouse cafeteria: bear in mind that your playing partners are not accepting your pathetic bait out of pity, but are secretly mocking you while clearly watching your despicable, bottom-of-the-barrel character.
If a playing partner starts groaning again right before a tee shot next week, claiming their shoulder is dislocated or they have indigestion from the night, do not think about giving them a handicap out of pity; instead, tell them kindly but firmly, "Sir, I don't think you are in the condition to play. Please cancel your tee shot, and I will take you to the nearest 24-hour emergency room immediately."
