Top 100 GOLF teacher Brian Mogg with some of his South Korean mentees.
Courtesy of Brian Mogg
We all know the moment we fell in love with the game. Many of us around my age (40) conjure up the image of a 21-year-old Tiger Woods walking off No. 18 at Augusta National after his runaway victory at the 1997 Masters. It wasn’t just the fiery uppercut after teeing off, it was the embrace of Woods with his father, Earl, who forever fused the thrill, excitement and inspirational power of sports.
What was that collective moment—or who was that galvanizing hero—for the people of South Korea?
“Easy answer: Se-Ri Pak“, he says GOLF Top 100 Teachers Brian Mogg, who has run an academy in the country since 2009. “Some of the kids who are 20 or 22, we ask them how they got here, what is their reason for playing. They all say the same thing: ‘When I was three, I saw Se-Ri on TV holding a trophy and I wanted to be like her.’ “
To truly understand why Pak — a 25-time winner on the LPGA Tour and a 2007 inductee into the World Golf Hall of Fame — remains a cult icon in South Korea, you must first familiarize yourself with a culture that places a strong emphasis on to pride. discipline, competition and respect. Ask any professional golfer what it takes to excel and the same words are likely to come up.
It’s that attention to detail that has made South Korea a hotbed of golf lessons. But unlike in the United States, the experience is more than just a few hours a week between student and teacher. It’s a lifestyle commitment that often involves the focus of a player’s entire family. Mogg realized this early on and hired former LPGA players to serve as coaches at his academy in Seoul. These are not just instructors; they intentionally play the role of parental figure for many of the students.
“They are a big part of my success,” says Mogg.
Courtesy of Brian Mogg
Even with the comprehensive support provided by the Mogg team, parents are still heavily involved in every aspect of a player’s progress. Mogg recalls the sweeping experience of one of his former students, who eventually became a professional and, as is not uncommon in Korea, counted on increasing the family’s fortune.
“A lot of times, when a student shows up for their lessons, the family comes too,” he says. “The family is buying the dream and it’s the family’s dream that this child will raise them to a higher level. It’s bigger than just going pro. These kids are expected to be the next superstar.”
Perhaps for good reason. Kids don’t play casual golf in Korea. They are not even allowed on most courses. They’re either on a competitive path or they’re not, in part because tuition in the country is insanely expensive—about ten euros a month at a typical academy. That pressure is put back on the player if they are lucky enough to make it on the pro circuit. And, surprisingly, many do. In the current Rolex rankings, 30 of the top 100 women golfers in the world come from Korea.
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Brian Mogg is not the only instructor struck by the intense commitment of the young Koreans. Kenny Kim, a former UC Irvine collegian and professional who is one of two Korea-based instructors at an academy owned by top 100 GOLF instructor Chris Mayson, grew up in Korea before moving to the U.S. at the age of 11 to pursue the game under the influence of his parents, who felt that the States would better prepare him for a career in the sport.
After his playing days ended at the age of 29, Kim returned to Korea to focus on helping young players learn the game, using his upbringing as a blueprint to connect with values and their hard work. His students work tirelessly.
“It’s Monday through Friday or Saturday,” he says. “These kids are here all day, every day. I know they are dedicated.”
It’s all, Kim says, about competition. “(In Korea), kids will tell me how they have to shoot 80 to beat another kid. I’m like, ‘No, you just have to take it better.‘”
Another big difference between teaching in Korea and the States? “We work on training,” says Kim, “but we don’t really have access to golf courses.” Mogg echoes this, describing small side rooms in which students, with mats and eye mirrors, would spend hours practicing their stroke.
“An American player would spend literally 90 seconds out there every day,” he says, “but these kids will do an hour of two- or three-foot shots, trying to see if they can hit the ball straight. dead.”
In South Korea, getting better at golf is a lifestyle commitment for the whole family
There is a widespread perception that Korean gamers stem from a rigid assembly line system that churns out robotic clones. In fact, that system not only allows individualism, it encourages it. This is another unique adjustment that Mogg had to make. The teaching method – in which you commit to only one learning style – is not considered acceptable in Korea. The most successful instructors take an approach that carefully cares for each student.
“While the Korean learning style is more left-brained and technical,” says Mogg, “you have to work with each person, treat them as an individual and make sure your lessons are conveyed that way. More I have to fight my natural instincts and (adapt) to how they learn best.”
However, Mogg finds teaching in the country to be extremely rewarding. He had the honor of coaching the first Asian-born major champion, YE Yang, who came from behind to defeat Tiger Woods at the 2009 PGA Championship.
The memory is still fresh. “After YE won the PGA, we landed in Seoul at 4:30 in the morning,” says Mogg. “YE is holding the Wanamaker trophy and we come out of this little baggage claim area, turn the corner and it was supposed to be the equivalent of the Beatles coming to America – the hero came home and all of Seoul was in the waiting room for greet and celebrate him.”
No doubt somewhere in Seoul, a young Korean eyed Yang and his giant trophy, perhaps saw himself in him and fell in love with the game.
We all have that special moment.
