The Sideline Notes

Possibly the easiest way to lean into a supporter role is to wear a replica team shirt. However, the Seoul Amazones do not sell shirts because of copyright. It's interesting as the team is owned by the entity that owns the team emblem, the emblem of the city of Seoul. My solution was to search online for cheap replica Paris Saint-Germain shirts, but only sanctioned shirts are available, and I'm not paying 150,000 won for a legit shirt of a team I don't even support. Back to the drawing board for me.

Today, Seoul travels to Mungyeong to face the Korean Armed Forces Athletic Corps, commonly referred to as Sangmu. The team was created shortly before the creation of the WK League and was a founding member of the league. They started their life in Busan, moved to Boeun in 2015, and to their current stadium in Mungyeong in 2023. An quirk of the stadium is that it doesn't have floodlights, meaning the team has never played an evening match in Mungyeong. Even their mid-week matches have afternoon kick-off times while most of the local population is still at work. The council are busy installing flood lights for the 2026 season, but they are not functional yet. I'm not sure the team administration cares, but the city council should be happy with the expected increase in attendance.

Sangmu's women's team themselves are interesting in that players don't join them via the yearly draft, but apply before the draft happens. Those who are not selected by Sangmu are then allowed to enter the draft, where they have a chance to get picked by one of the other teams. Sangmu used to participate in the draft, but when they used their number one pick to recruit Choe Yu-Ri, she refused because to join the team, you must enlist in the military and do basic training, forcing you, if only temporarily, into a career with the armed forces. Most players are not interested in careers in the army.

Historically, Sangmu are a bottom-half team and has never finished higher than fourth. They are a world force on the international stage, though, and they are one of the most successful teams at the World Military Cup. Sangmu started this season well and will enter this match in joint first place.
The player to watch might be Gwang Ha-neul. With their recent good results, the team have had a player nominated for Queen of the Round in every round, with Gwang Ha-Neul nominated twice.

It's relatively easy to reach Mungyeong Civic Stadium from our home, even if it takes a while. A "quick" three-hour bus ride from Ansan takes us away from the initial hustle and bustle of Gyeonggi-do, past lower-density light industries and eventually into the Sobaek Mountain Range. As we cross over the range, we pass what appears to be small logging industries. This might be the first time I see logging in Korea. Mungyeong is located at the foot of these mountains.

Most of the passengers get off in Mungyeong, with only maybe three going on to Sangmu. While everyone quickly heads off in various directions, Gogga and I take a moment to get our bearings. First stop is NoBrand to buy a snack, where we both feel like going Old-School. I buy Nogari, dried pollack, to accompany my makgeolli. Gogga picks dried squid to go with her beer. I can't help but feel we have our snack switched because in my experience, Nogari normally goes with beer, as Euljiro's Nogari Alley will attest. With snacks in hand, we head towards a restaurant Gogga found for us. While walking there, I notice "slow" things move here. It's well known that people in cities walk faster than those outside of cities because the pace of life just becomes so ingrained that it becomes a habit. Here in Mungyeong, everyone walks just a bit slower, and we are happy to follow their example. I also notice a lot of children of all ages on the street. These are real children, outside, talking to each other without staring at their phones. What is this magic?!

At the restaurant, we find a seat and order their most basic dish, basic Chueotang. In the corner is a cooler with what looks like ice cream, but upon closer examination, I realise it's free makgeolli. According to their sign, they have 36 litres a day until it runs out, but right now, at midday, there is only about 6 litres left. I highly doubt there were 36 litres to start this day. There is enough for me to have a cup with my very Korean lunch, so it's all good. When our food arrives, I test every variation I can make with the extras on offer, and end up eating it with "all the fixins" There might be some who don't know that term, and as far as I know, it originates from the USA, basically meaning "all the extras". The young man working there is quiet, but he does his job well, and the combination of good food and his service makes this an easy recommendation for those who want to visit Mungheon for a match.

After lunch, we have time to waste, and we take a walk through a park where more children are happily playing on the playground. We meander through the residential areas towards the stadium, and we stop at a soft tennis tournament being held right next to the football stadium. Apparently, Mungyeong is a major soft tennis hub. Their annual international tournament is in progress.

We enter the stadium well before kick-off and relax while watching the players warm up. I notice that Im Seon-Ju is not wearing a protective boot anymore. She was injured and replaced in the first round match against Suwon and has been on the sidelines ever since. She is not warming up with the team, but she is able to kick the ball a bit. In comparison to the half-arsed warm-ups of the players, the referees are doing it like they mean it. Why are players so reluctant to warm up properly?

All professional and semi-professional football matches in Korea have ball boys. Mungyeong have ball Ajumas. I feel like I need to explain the term. An Ajuma is, in Korean, a married woman. Non-Koreans tend to use it to refer to older women, often with short permed hair, who act like forces of nature. Books can be written about them, and a full description is not possible in a single blog post. The ball Ajumas are dressed exactly the way you would expect. Every piece of open skin is protected from the sun by long trousers, long-sleeve shirts, and wide-brim caps with material hanging off the back to keep the sun off their necks. It's nice and amusing at the same time.

Even though we chose our seats, it's not clear where we are supposed to sit. There are seats available next to the main stand, but no signs indicate that it's intended for away supporters. We are soon joined by other Seoul supporters, so clearly we are fine right here. The surface of the stand is covered in artificial grass. I spent most of my early years running around barefoot. Culturally, we don't expect children to wear shoes until we go to high school in the year we turn 14. Therefore, I'm happy to take the opportunity to go barefoot on the "grass". If anyone asks, I'll just claim that "I'm Afrikaans".

On the Mungyeong side of the stand is one of the ugliest mascots I've ever seen, hitting a drum and chanting from within the costume. I really hope it's someone doing it on their own and not the actual team mascot, because if it is, then they need to rethink that idea. Directly in front of us is the broadcasting team. The director/producer is sitting at one table where he controls the broadcast and replays, allowing us to get live replays right from our seats. The commentators sit at a separate table. Both of them look young and fresh out of high school. Their notebooks and pencil cases are not helping the image. Behind us are about 10 Seoul supporters who will later be the most vocal spectators in the stadium.

The match day experience at Mungyeong is as quiet and relaxed as everything else in the town. There are no cheerleaders (I'm not complaining), and the announcer rarely says anything (This makes me happy). The mascot only cheers occasionally, and the rest of the spectators even less so.

The match feels one-sided from start to finish, with Seoul making risky passes tempting the Mungyeong players. Despite this, Seoul is the first to attempt shots at goal. But while Seoul's attacks don't look dangerous at all, and on the other side, Mungyeong's attempts are barely off the mark. The first goal comes when a Seoul defender makes a weak back pass to the goalkeeper, with a Mungyeong attacker already at speed chasing the ball down. The pass leaves the goalkeeper stranded and unsure whether to rush out or back. The attacker, on the front foot with no defender to pressure her, calmly knocks it to the side, past the keeper, and into the goal.

Mungyeong's second goal comes from a cross which is headed into the side of the goal. It's a prettier goal than the first and has to be earned, but on paper, the only thing that matters is whether it went in or not. Seoul never looks like they will score, and Mungyeong solidify the result, then they are awarded a penalty kick for a handball in the area. The match finishes 3-0. Seoul have lost 4 of their first 5 matches, and this looks like it's going to be a long season. (Coincidentally, FC Seoul, the other team playing at the World Cup Stadium, lost to Sangmu's men's team on the same day.)

At the final whistle, the players shake hands, and while the Mongyeong players walk over to the Seoul manager and give a small bow, the Seoul players head to their own side without acknowledging the opposition coaching staff. And while the Mungheong players line up to thank their supporters, the Seoul players grab their stuff to walk straight to the dressing room. They don't even look up at the travelling supporters before they disappear. In Korea, this is bad form, and disappointing to see. Travelling fans are some of the nicest people and very forgiving of bad results. All they want to do is support the team, thank them for their hard work, before they make their way to the dressing room.

As we exit, we notice the Seoul team bus next to the front entrance, and we decide to wait and see what happens. First to come out are the coaching staff. The head coach is followed by the assistants, who come to see her off as she leaves in her own car. Surprisingly, she leaves well before the team. I would have expected them to travel in together, as a team. A few minutes later, the players start coming out, one by one. Almost everyone has an ice pack strapped to some part of their body, but usually the ankles and knees. It's the first time I stand outside a stadium waiting for players to come out, so I'm not sure what to do, but both of us attempt to show our appreciation by shyly applauding as they exit. Some players even give embarrassed head bobs in response.

While we wait, a man standing nearby starts talking to us. He lives in nearby Sangju, where the men's Samgmu team used to play. When that team moved away to Gimcheon, he started attending home matches for the women's team. He seems to love football in general and gives us some information about some of the Seoul players. He also tells us that he is a retired civil servant, but still plays football. The senior league are divided by age, grouping decades together. He is in the 60-69 age group, and tells us the rules require them to have at least four players over 65 or older. Korean old people are so active compared to back home. He also proudly tells us about the new floodlight, which will be finished and in use by 20 June. 4333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333345 (My cat decided to stand on the keyboard and I'm just going to leave this here.)

Mungyeong victory today, and Incheon's loss to Sejong, leaves Mungheon alone at the top. Gangjin repeats their performance from the previous round with a 1-2 away win in Suwon, and Hwacheon is victorious over Gyeongju with a 2-0 scoreline.

For this match, Lee Se-Ran, who scored the first goal, was nominated for Queen of the Round, but Yun Ji-Hyeon of Hwacheon was the eventual winner.