Field + Screen

The world’s biggest golfer doesn’t reside in Florida or California or Scotland, but in the tech-city of Daejeon, South Korea. Gleaming stainless steel and 69 feet tall, “The Golfer” by artists Ji Yong Ho and Park Dae Gyu has androgynous curves through the hips and chest and is a monument to a player of the future, not the past. Reflecting the noon sun with nearly as much pop is the swooping seven-story structure adjacent, the company headquarters of Golfzon. (English speakers: Mentally tack on an “e” for the correct pronunciation.) Founded by a former Samsung executive, the company operates courses and retail shops, but the most important part of its business is its simulators, which last year totaled 56 million rounds across 46 countries, as well as Antarctica. Maybe you’ve taken indoor swings in a clubfitting studio or a wealthy buddy’s basement, but prepare to encounter something else entirely at the top of this building’s first escalator. When you come back outside, you’ll wonder if it really was a simulation, or the emergence of a new sport altogether.

Screen golf versus field golf

South Koreans differentiate between “screen golf” and “field golf” with no sense of irony. Recently, the republic became the only country where more rounds are played annually on the former than the latter. Golfzon locations (5,756) outnumber Starbucks by 5-to-1. New-course construction has halted, so for a golf-passionate nation where few children grow up with yards, screen golf has provided a rising middle-class with a sense of recreational green space. An hour of play, which is more than enough time for a single golfer to complete 18 holes, generally starts around $25 with small upcharges for better courses.

Screen baseball is also popular, as is screen fishing. Yes, you cast a line-less rod, and a projection of a hook and sinker penetrates the surface of an idyllic digital lake. Just the right amount of auditory hints, like lapping water and birdsong, sift through speakers. Algorithms decide when and if a fish will bite and how big, and gyroscopes inside the pole shudder to provide a sensation of fight. Your forearms will burn as you work the reel, and without proper finesse, you might lose the fish. Outdoorsmen from Montana can spit out their coffee and stammer—Is nothing sacred anymore?—but practices like catch-and-release aren’t without attendant philosophical questions, too. When it comes to what humans do for fun, let’s agree we’re all a little nutty sometimes.

So although a traditional golf tournament—you know, like, on a course with 18 physical holes—has a limit of about 150 players per day, screen golf knows no such restraint. Golfzon conducts up to 350 tournaments daily with top qualifiers regularly earning the chance to compete in weekend events at the headquarters store, which, along with its supporting restaurants and retail shops, is also known as Zoimaru (Joy-mah-roo). There, 27 simulator bays occupy three floors for a playing capacity of 108 players. When GTour is in session, panels on certain bays are removed to create stadium seating for spectators. (...)

Though the standard for an indoor hitting bay is some sort of cube with a turf mat and dark drapes, at Zoimaru the line with reality is more blurred. When it’s your turn to hit, you ascend a few stone steps to a terraced tee box bordered with flowers. After your drive, the teeing area tilts to match the slope of the approach shot. The ceilings are high—airy even—and the potted trees are a continuation of the same variety depicted in the landscape of the wall murals flanking the screen. There’s piped audio of wind rustling leaves. If you soften your gaze and want to believe you’re playing golf in the Taebaek Mountains—not above the parking garage—you can.

by Max Adler, Golf Digest |  Read more:

Image: Greg Samborski