Two weeks ago I played golf in Oconomowoc, WI with a good friend. Over the past two years, when I’ve played, I get my golf watch out and charge it up. The watch is awesome.
You select the course and it gives you the exact distance to the hole from wherever you are on the course. It also lets you know the yardage to the front of the green and the back of the green. Another super feature is being able to see the distance to hazards (like water or sand bunkers) from your current location.
Typically not an early technology embracer, it was a leap for me to ask for the golf watch for Christmas. There are still courses you play these days that are not well-marked, and I figured, what the heck, I might as well try out the watch and see if it’s simple and I use it.
Quite frankly, I’ve come to rely on it. That’s not something I thought I’d ever say.
Having GPS coded into the watch is an incredible thing. You stop the cart and watch the yardage distance change. If you look at the fairway and see a marker indicating you’re 150 yards from the green, you can confirm that number or perhaps see if it’s really 144 or 156 yards. You get the exact number.
My dependence on the technology came home to me that day playing with my buddy. Quite frankly, it surprised me.
For the first time since I’d been gifted the watch, it failed. The course (thousands of courses are coded into the watch) did not come up when I looked at the options on the dial. I tapped the start button and scrolled several times and our course of the day, La Belle, didn’t surface. Oh well, back to the old days.
You had to figure the golf carts that day would not have GPS and the fairways did not have yardage on the sprinkler heads, so you had to use the 200-, 150-, and 100-yard markers to best gauge your shots into greens. Typically I’ve been pretty good about assessing distance.
It became clear though that my skill in judging yardage had atrophied since the golf watch made its appearance on my wrist. I was just off. A little bit. But a little bit means a lot when you golf.
I over-shot and under-shot a few to the greens (one could also argue that’s just part of being a bad golfer, but we can address that issue some other day). I felt out of sorts. I kept tapping for a measurement, then remembered it wasn’t working. I played poorly.
Miraculously, the watch engaged on the back nine after I tried calling the course up again, and it was accepted by the software. When I saw it displayed on the screen I smiled. My buddy and I went on a tear after that.
Emotions play into many games and parts of our daily lives. As we rely on technology, it gives us a sense of control. Employed well, it helps simplify a process or allows you to improve a skill. The golf watch did that. But losing it for a half day also made it clear how technology doesn’t always work that way it’s designed. It’s not perfect. Be prepared.
You select the course and it gives you the exact distance to the hole from wherever you are on the course. It also lets you know the yardage to the front of the green and the back of the green. Another super feature is being able to see the distance to hazards (like water or sand bunkers) from your current location.
Typically not an early technology embracer, it was a leap for me to ask for the golf watch for Christmas. There are still courses you play these days that are not well-marked, and I figured, what the heck, I might as well try out the watch and see if it’s simple and I use it.
Quite frankly, I’ve come to rely on it. That’s not something I thought I’d ever say.
Having GPS coded into the watch is an incredible thing. You stop the cart and watch the yardage distance change. If you look at the fairway and see a marker indicating you’re 150 yards from the green, you can confirm that number or perhaps see if it’s really 144 or 156 yards. You get the exact number.
My dependence on the technology came home to me that day playing with my buddy. Quite frankly, it surprised me.
For the first time since I’d been gifted the watch, it failed. The course (thousands of courses are coded into the watch) did not come up when I looked at the options on the dial. I tapped the start button and scrolled several times and our course of the day, La Belle, didn’t surface. Oh well, back to the old days.
You had to figure the golf carts that day would not have GPS and the fairways did not have yardage on the sprinkler heads, so you had to use the 200-, 150-, and 100-yard markers to best gauge your shots into greens. Typically I’ve been pretty good about assessing distance.
It became clear though that my skill in judging yardage had atrophied since the golf watch made its appearance on my wrist. I was just off. A little bit. But a little bit means a lot when you golf.
I over-shot and under-shot a few to the greens (one could also argue that’s just part of being a bad golfer, but we can address that issue some other day). I felt out of sorts. I kept tapping for a measurement, then remembered it wasn’t working. I played poorly.
Miraculously, the watch engaged on the back nine after I tried calling the course up again, and it was accepted by the software. When I saw it displayed on the screen I smiled. My buddy and I went on a tear after that.
Emotions play into many games and parts of our daily lives. As we rely on technology, it gives us a sense of control. Employed well, it helps simplify a process or allows you to improve a skill. The golf watch did that. But losing it for a half day also made it clear how technology doesn’t always work that way it’s designed. It’s not perfect. Be prepared.