Looks like that copy of the NES game Golf discovered on the Nintendo Switch earlier this week could be a tribute to Satoru Iwata, the late president of Nintendo. The hidden copy of Golf found on every Switch console appears to reference Iwata in several ways, which is appropriate considering Iwata was the programmer on the original 1984 game. According to Switch Brew, a wiki focused on hacking and analyzing the software powering Nintendo's latest console, the game can only be launched when specific requirements are meant. SEE ALSO: Nintendo hid a copy of the NES game 'Golf' on every Switch First off, Golf can only be played when the console's date is set to July 11, the date of Iwata's death
Standing over a 5-foot putt to extend her team’s run in the member-guest tournament at Scottsdale National Golf Club, Jolene Gabbay can’t hear a pin drop. At least not when a car horn sounds as she prepares to pull the putter head back. That distraction is followed in quick succession by a loudly crowing rooster, the pounding of a jack hammer, a thumping helicopter and even Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from the movie ‘Full Metal Jacket’ yelling, “Get on your knees, scumbag!” The sound effects come one after another from three massive speakers atop a beefed-up entertainment cart parked two paces off the green. Queuing up the auditory barbs are two deejays from Hawaii flown in just for the event, while
Jay Monahan settled into his chair with an easy smile and slight hunch, giving the commissioner’s annual State of the PGA Tour news conference a fantasy football draft feel. Of the litany of things that have changed the last year since Monahan took over for Tim Finchem, however, friendly body language doesn’t begin to accurately portray the differences between the old and new bosses. As metaphorical extremes go, maybe the easiest way to judge the gulf between current and former regimes was Monahan’s socks, a flowery pattern that fit playfully with the predictable loafers and blue blazer, which firmly announced there is new management now calling the shots in Ponte Vedra Beach, Fla. As best anyone can tell, he didn’t own flowers, just a stoic, B-to-B pragmatist who, in fairness, oversaw unprecedented growth during his tenure as commissioner.