4. Booooring

Sosabel Sports Town is, at most, an easy 90-minute trip with the walk from the station included. The only transfer is the same one I use every morning, and the walk to the stadium is straightforward. All things considered, it's an easy venue to reach. So, without any time pressure, I'm able to spend my morning relaxing and looking for a restaurant to have lunch at before the match. Unfortunately, relaxing is making me lazy, and I am starting to lose my desire to travel. But the weather is pleasant, and the air is clean, and it would be a terrible waste to sit inside all day. So, get my act together and start preparing to see a new stadium.

Sosabel Sports Town is Pyeongtaek Citizen FC, a semi-professional team established in 2017. In their first year, they finished 3rd in K3 League Basic, a forerunner of the current K4 League, and won promotion to the K3 League Advance. They languished in the bottom half and were eventually relegated to the current K4 League, where they continue their unremarkable performances.

The Pyeongtaek Station is a 30+ minute walk, or a 25+ minute bus ride from the stadium. The station, bigger than most in the subway system, reminds me of Suwon Station, a location I’ve been to many times. Many non-Koreans move about as they arrive, or prepare to depart for all parts of the country. The main difference is that Suwon has more passengers from Asian countries, while Pyeongtaek has more Americans, whom I assume are associated with the base nearby. There is a downtown area near both stations, which is packed with restaurants and shops that serve both locals looking for a night out and the migrant population looking for food from home.

My initial plan was to find a South Asian restaurant that serves Dal, but my laziness and time-wasting ruined that plan. Instead, I must head straight to the stadium, so I join the other recent arrivals and make my way out of the station. There is construction work outside, meaning we get funnelled into a narrow walkway, like cattle leaving the pens to go to the pastures. I navigate the crowd, find the road I need to follow, and set off to the stadium.

Other than a slight curve about halfway there, the road leads straight into the stadium. Along the way, I pass a construction site for Hillstate Apartments. Hopefully, the increase in the local population will boost Pyeongtaek Citizens’ support and attendance. Most semi-professional teams in Korea desperately need more supporters. The Hillstate development is the only new thing in the area. The area is not ancient by any means, but everything just feels old. And the number of vacant premises on the main street makes the local economy seem unwell. From somewhere behind a building, I can hear a rooster crow. Why is there a rooster in the middle of an urban area?

As the small stadium comes into view, I veer off into a convenience store to get something to drink. The choice of the day is soju with orange juice. I pour both into my 750ml water bottle, drop it into my backpack, and walk the final 100 metres. According to K3/4 League rules, we are not allowed to bring alcohol into the stadium, as we are supposed to buy it at the venue. However, I'm yet to see a K3/4 League venue in-stadium refreshment facilities. Even when they have food trucks, those trucks don't sell alcohol. I assume this is why no one seems to care what spectators bring with them. 

Note: I unknowingly changed the setting on my camera while walking to the stadium, and all the photos of the match were overexposed. I managed to "recover" them to a point, but this one of a gentleman standing outside the stadium looking in was the only one worth keeping.

The stadium’s capacity is supposed to be 12,000. Maybe the running track is warping my estimate, but it looks more like 8,000 capacity. Most stadiums in Korea are built for public use and, by law, they have to be multipurpose. As far as I understand, the only football-specific stadiums in the country are either World Cup stadiums like Seoul or privately owned like Pohang Steelyard. Daegu, however, has a city-owned, football-specific stadium. How?

Entering the grounds, I see a sign indicating the Home section, and for no particular reason, I go there, intending to look around before choosing a seat. By the entrance are two high school girls, sitting behind a table, next to a sign indicating the entrance fee: 5,000 won for locals and 6,000 won for visitors. I could tell them I live in Pyeongtaek, but it’s 1,000 won for team water or something. Annoyingly, they only accept cash or bank transfers, and they don’t have change for my tenner. *sigh*

The stadium is too big for the K4 League, so we are restricted to the main stand, which can hold about 1500 people. It has comfortable seats with 100-150 spectators spread out on one side. I can't help but wonder if the five spectators in the Away section are actual visitors, or if they just wandered over to that side to escape the “crowd”. Half the home support consists of the youth team dressed up in their tracksuits, and sitting near them are their families. Surprisingly, 5 youth players are non-Koreans. It looks like an interesting team to play for. Also in the Home section is a single man with a giant drum and megaphone. He’s not particularly active with his drum and starts chants at random intervals. The youth team joins in occasionally.

Soon after the start of the match, two girls of possibly high school age arrive to sit near the drummer. One is wearing Pyeongtaek’s away shirt, but the advertising is different from the current shirt, so I guess it’s from a previous season. Her shirt is even signed by a player. But I decide she is a serious fan when I see the second shirt from yet another season come out. She’s been here for at least two years already.

The great thing about this girl is that she does not care what others think of her. She shouts and sings with the drummer, and waves her extra shirt enthusiastically whenever a player comes close enough to see her. As the game continues, she gets louder, so much so that her friend puts an empty seat between them. When you are part of a large team's home support, you're surrounded by 500 fans just as mad as you are. But when you're the only one in a group of 150 spectators cheering this hard, you stick out like a sore thumb. She was amusing, and some people were laughing at her, but clubs should feel lucky to have even one person so dedicated in the stands, and Pyeongtaek has two.

Near the end of the first half, three high school girls arrive and sit behind me. They wear similar Adidas tops, one red, one white, one black. Maybe they were wandering around, bored, heard something in the stadium, and decided to investigate the noise. They are so lost that they only learn one of the teams is Pyeongtaek when the drummer randomly breaks into a chant, and they spend about 5 minutes trying to figure out who the team wearing white is. (Hint, the names are on the scoreboard.) At times, these girls were more entertaining than the match. They were amazed by everything: the ball being kicked high, a player running fast, a yellow card being shown, and two pigeons flying overhead.

During halftime, I wander over to the Away section. There's nothing to separate us or prevent me from going in, and I enter to see if the view might be better from that side. It isn’t. I also go down to the entrance to see if they're selling tickets for away supporters. They are, but at double the price. This is something that pisses me off. Someone travels a few hours and many kilometres to support their team, just to be charged double for, at best, the same facilities as the home supporters. And this nonsense happens at all levels. Don't even get me started on how the professional teams treat the visiting team’s supporters.

But I haven't mentioned the game yet. Gijang put up a good fight, and I feel they were better for most of the match. They were especially dangerous down the left. Unfortunately, a momentary lapse of concentration during the first half sees them concede two goals in under 60 seconds. The first goal came from a horrible back pass. It was directed to no one in particular and came to a stop halfway between the last defender and the keeper. While the Gijang players were pointing at each other, Pyeongtaek’s striker rushed in to take the ball and slot it into the net. The second was from a combination of dodgy defending and a lucky header. Gijang kept fighting and pulled one back, but it was not enough. The team may only be two months old, but they are showing promise. 

With the game finished, it's time to make the short trek back to Pyeongtaek Station. The walk back is uneventful, and the only mildly interesting thing to happen is that I get the express train, saving me a whopping 15 minutes on my trip. Overall, the day was fairly boring, but I'll take much of the blame for that.

2025.03.15 - Sosalbeol Sports Town

Pyeongtaek Citizen FC vs Gijang Citizen/United FC

3. I Thought There Was A Match Here

The Korean Football Association Cup, currently known as the Korea Cup, starts this weekend. Round 1 sees teams form the amateur K5 League, as well as the semi-professional K3 League and K4 League. The K5 League teams qualified by being the top-performing teams at the annual K5 League play-off championships. All the K4 League teams qualify automatically, as well as the bottom 10 teams from the 2024 K3 League season. The B teams of professional clubs are not allowed to enter the Cup. This all means the opportunity to visit an out-of-the-way location to watch some mostly unknown team, a.k.a an Adventure. This particular adventure did not disappoint.

According to the map, the venue for the Incheon Seogot FC vs. Daejeon Korail FC match appears to be an easy 90-minute trip, walk included. It's early season, and a small venue that I know nothing about, and there is a distinct lack of information about the matches, or at least I'm not aware of the best sources of information yet. All this makes me anxious, and I check the Korail Instagram multiple times to make sure the fixture hasn't changed in any way. I even checked before leaving home, and with the confidence that the match had not changed, I set off on a brisk Saturday morning, eyeing a curry lunch before the match.

There are two possible stations from which I can reach the venue, and I chose Dohwa Station because that seems best for finding lunch. I leave the station heading North and immediately find myself in an old district filled with two-story houses and low, soulless apartment blocks. It's quiet and uninspiring.

A short walk North is the giant The Sharp apartment complex, complete with its own little mall and a pedestrian street called The Alley. Behind The Sharp are other branded apartments, spanning equally large areas to form an intimidating block of apartments that is in stark contrast to the old district from which I just emerged.

The Alley is quiet, despite it being lunchtime. Some of the restaurants aren't open, and many of the shops are empty and for rent. The curry restaurant I planned to visit does not seem to exist, so I find a restaurant chain with curry on the menu. However, it's not a specialised restaurant, and the curry is mediocre at best. The attitude of the staff does not help either. I don't expect them to serve me hand and foot, but I do expect them to put their phones down at some point and at least pretend to care about their jobs. Lunch is disappointing.

The way to the community field is a road which initially has the large blocks of apartments on one side and the old district on the opposite side. The scenery then changes abruptly as you enter the grandiosely named Juan NATIONAL Industrial Complex. The community field is nestled inside this district filled with light industries.

And is really just a community field. The artificial grass field is surrounded by a running track and a basketball court behind each goal. The simple four-step pavilion on one side seems more for keeping training gear than for seating spectators. Something very important is missing here, though. There is no sign of a Korea Cup match! There's a "Fathers League" game underway, but no one is getting ready to take over when they finish. I know this is my first time at a Round 1 match, but this doesn't feel right.

Concerned, I look at the Instagram post again, and nothing has changed; it's still at this location. That can only mean...the game is on Sunday! Mother F...! How did I look at the post and fixture list 20 times and not notice this? At least I still have the beer to accompany me on my walk back to the station.

*****

It's Sunday morning, and I'm confident today will be better. This time I know the area and where to go. Yesterday I saw a Popeye's Chicken with an advert for a Tanduri burger, so I head there for lunch. I quickly regret my decision because they are sooooooo sloooooow. At least I'm not the deliveryman. They usually time their routes to arrive soon after an order is ready, but this poor man had to wait at least 10 minutes, which will reflect badly on him and his future deliveries. He was not happy and he made sure they knew it.

I dont know what they are doing back there, but my order takes so long that I have to take it and eat on the way to the field, or have a cold burger at the field. I prefer a warm meal on a late winter's day. The bigger is saucy, and stuffing my mouth while walking means I get sauce all over my face like a 5-year-old. I only have two napkins and need to save one to clean my face after eating, so most of my walk involves taking bites, then trying to get as much of the sauce off my face with a finger before thoroughly licking off the  "yum". I don't even care that I look like a toddler eating because I'm enjoying every bite.

Along the way, I stop by a convenience store to get a drink, and I choose something I've come to call Happy Juice. I don't know the name, but it's 7% alcohol, just enough to get me mellow but not drunk. I pay and give the normal "Gamsahamnida", to which the owner replies: "Hangugmal jarhaeyo!" Why, thank you, my good man. You deserve another amazing "Gamsahamnida", but this time with a complimentary smile. Time to leave before he gets chatty!

For the second time this weekend, I arrive at the field, and this time I'm greeted by the sight of the Daejeon Korail team bus and a banner indicating the Korea Cup event. The gods be praised, I'm not a complete idiot after all.

The setup at the event is functional at best. Each team has three of those square weekend-market tents, which seemed to serve as both the dressing rooms and the field-side players' seating area. All the tents are set on the six-lane running track, and being so close to the playing surface means that the tents are blocking the view of most potential spectators. Everyone is forced to sit near one of the corner flags, and even then, vision is partially blocked. I'm not the only one who chooses to stand next to the field instead. The positive of being all the way on the corner of the field is that we were near the toilets, BEHIND which all the men go to urinate.

I sit on the Daejeon side, which brought a handful of supporters. I have no idea who they were, but my guess is mostly family and friends. Guessing is the best I can do because I have a lot to learn about the lower leagues and their supporters. Heavens only know who all the people on the Seogot side are.

One spectator on the Daejeon side is wearing an Incheon United shirt. He is clearly a fan because his phone is decorated with a United phone cover, and from his bag peeks out a United scarf. Does he know that the team on the other side is the one from Incheon? Did he accidentally come to the wrong end, and now he is afraid of admitting his mistake? It doesn't matter because he seems happy whenever Daejeon scores. Is he pretending to avoid embarrassment, or is he genuinely supporting the visitors today? I figure he, like me, is here alone, making his joy seem even odder because he has nothing to prove to anyone. Of course, this story is all in my head, and whatever the real story is, he's enjoying himself, and in my book, that is a successful day out.

The first half of the game is played on the far side of the pitch as Korail starts bullying Seogok from the opening whistle. It's going to be a long day for the home team. I missed the first goal while lining up my camera for an image to represent the moment. It's the image of two ball boys watching the game, and if you look carefully, you can see the white ball just about to cross the goal line. The next few goals come fast and often, and when the half-time whistle blows, I'm unsure if the score is 0-3 or 0-4. There is no scoreboard here.

In the second half, the home team spends some time on the Korail side, but thankfully, most of the game is now played on our side. Seogot is still trying their best, but lapses in concentration allow Korail to pile into the box and knock the goals in. The game finishes either 0-7 or 0-8. I would later learn the final score is 0-9, but what's one goal when you already have a baseball score?

On the way home, I stop to take a photo of an interesting-looking coffee shop exterior and hear someone shouting at no one in particular. The shouts are only interrupted by loud spitting. I get my photo, check the map to see where I made a wrong turn, and start moving towards the station before the shouter reaches me.

Unfortunately, we are heading in the same direction, and I can hear them getting closer, still talking and spitting. When they are uncomfortably close, I stop to let them pass, but they look sideways at me, and say, "Hello. How are you?" And that was the last time they spoke English. They take a few more steps, putting a small distance between us, and decide they want to talk to me. I suspect the young man has a mental disability, and our conversation goes something like this, shortened, all with my limited Korean:

Them: Where are you going?
Me: I'm going home
Them: Where is that?
Me: Anyang.
Them: Are you going to Incheon?
Me: No, Anyang.
Them: How will you get there?
Me: Subway
Them: Why don't you take a taxi?
Me: It's expensive
Them: How much is it?
Me: I don't know, 40,000 won?
Them: Wow. So you're going to Incheon Station?
Me: No, Anyang
Them: Oh, how long will it take?
Me: An hour, maybe.
Them: You're not going to Incheon?
Me: No, Anyang
Them: Is that in the direction of Suwon?
Me: Yes! That's my direction

... we pass someone ... 

Them: Anyeong. Anyeonghaseayo. ANYEONGHASAEYO!

...the stranger doesn't reply...

Them: Here's the station. Let's take the elevator.
Me: I don't like elevators. I'll take the stairs (Hoping to lose them)
Them: Why?
Me: Just because..( I'm trying to lose you)
Them: Let's take the elevator.
Me: I want to take the stairs. Exercise.

... at the top of the stairs...

Them: Let's use that elevator. (The elevator to the platform)
Me: I don't like elevators.
Them: Oh... 

At this point, I lose them as they get distracted by something.

I prefer to keep to myself, but I made myself a promise that if anyone tries to talk to me on an adventure, I won't resist. And that is how I ended up walking a kilometre with a guy unable to stop asking me the same questions over and over. :)

2025.03.22 - Incheon Donggu Citizen Sports Park 

Incheon Seogot SM FC 0:5 Daejeon Korail FC  

2. Travel, And More Travel.

There've been multiple semi-professional teams in Sejong City in recent years. The WK League team Sejong Sportoto WFC has called the city home since 2019, and between 2022 and 2024 FC Sejong (formerly Sejong Vanesse FC) played here. At the end of the 2024 season, FC Sejong was suspended from participating in the 2025 season due to not paying player wages, and they subsequently decided to cease operations completely. Within weeks, as a new team, Sejong SA FC was created to enter the K3/4 league structure starting in 2025. It is this team I'm on my way to watch today.

Sejong City itself is spread over an extensive area, with the Citizen Stadium located on the edge of what seems to be the least populated urban area. There is no direct access to the stadium from my home, and I must take the subway, then two buses, just to get close enough to walk to the stadium. That's a three-hour trip, one way, if transfers are kind to me.

But that does not mean it is a horrible trip. Of course, there is the inconvenience of multiple transfers, and sitting for at least two and a half hours while constantly looking at the map on my phone to make sure I'm still going in the correct direction, but it's perfect for an adventure. I start with a ride down Line 1 to Cheonan Station. From Cheonan, I get a bus that meanders Southwards through the City and into the middle-of-nowhere countryside. Once we hit the countryside, the driver turns into a rally driver, and we must hold on and pray we don't tip over somewhere along the winding roads. While holding on, I must also look for landmarks and find them on the map to confirm my location, because I'm not sure what will happen if I get off at the wrong transfer point. Did I mention we're in the middle of nowhere? 

There are only 5 people on the bus by the time we get to the transfer point, but I'm not the only one getting off. I am, however, the only one standing there looking lost. The other passenger immediately takes out his phone and orders a taxi to take him where he needs to be. I've only done half the bus part of my trip, and a taxi to Sejong will cost a fortune, so I have to wait for my next bus, which may or may not come soon.

The bus eventually appears around the corner, and I stick my arm out for a good while until I'm sure the driver knows I need to board. I really don't want to miss the bus and have to wait 30-45 minutes for the next one. My inexperience with taking multiple buses made me paranoid, and I planned a huge time buffer in case I got lost. So, even if I do screw up somewhere, I'm confident I'll be able to recover. Not that I want to go through that mess, though.

On the new bus, I check the map for a few minutes before I'm satisfied that I'm heading in the correct direction, then settle in knowing I don't need to worry again until we hit a clearly urban area. On the way, I learn something interesting. Korea University has a huge campus in Sejong. This is the same campus where the university's women's team plays, the team that would win the Queen's Cup later in the season. 

As expected, I arrive well before kick-off, and I start my search for a comfortable and affordable coffee shop to stay warm in. Unsurprisingly, there isn't much in this area, just a coffee shop or two, a few meat restaurants, and a Kimbab Changguk if you venture too far off the main road, as well as a Paris Baguette and a convenience store. There is ALWAYS a Paris Baguette and a convenience store.

I choose one of the coffee shops and settle in to do some productive time-wasting. I'm so early that I see the opposition team bus pass by. There is even enough time for some of their management to come to the coffee shop for coffee. I really hope my planning ability will improve as this year's adventure unfolds.

Remember the Kimbab Changguk I mentioned? When lunchtime arrives, I find it and order a plate of good old Kimchi Fried Rice. After lunch, I slowly make my way towards the stadium along a small road with apartments on one side and small-scale farms on the other. Here I find a bungabbang shop. Not a stand, but a permanent structure dedicated to the making of this delicious winter snack. It's an odd location, but I don't care because how can you say "no" to a warm Fishy-Bread in cold weather like this?

With a hot snack in hand, I walk the final 300 or so metres to the stadium, while enjoying the blessing and curse of bungabbang. Blessing: The hot snack keeps your hands nice and warm. Curse: Trying to eat it results in heavy open-mouthed breathing as you try to cool the scolding bite on your tongue.

Sejong SA FC went all out for this first game of the season. They have four food trucks selling coffee and food. Those used to attending matches featuring bigger teams will scoff at this, but down here in the K4 League, it's a luxury when you have a convenience store nearby.

As is common for K3 and K4 League matches, there's no entry fee, but there are volunteers sitting at the main entrance giving away face tattoos. I'm not interested, so I make my way up onto the pavilion. For all the effort it took to get here, I'm just happy it's the correct day and found the venue without any fuss. I find a seat behind the Daegu B supporters and settle in for kick-off. As I look at the Daegu fans, I wonder to myself what kind of supporter travels this far to cheer on the B team, but then I remember that I travelled all the way here to support neither team. I guess they are "my people".

Before the match starts, we have the obligatory opening ceremony. This one is longer than usual because we have to introduce everyone and their dog. Actually, they don't introduce the dog, but they definitely should have. Someone's dog made it onto the playing field, and during the ceremonial kick-off, it sees the opportunity to play and runs full pelt between the balls. It's not chasing the balls, no, just running for the pure joy of it. Simple pleasures make Dog happy. (You can see it arrive on the scene about 90 seconds into the video at the end of this post.)

During the match, I wander around to look at the spectators and the surroundings. On the opposite side of the main pavilion, I find more farms as well as Sejong's small fan group. I wonder if they supported the previous team, and if they attend the WK League matches, which, as far as I know, are played at the same venue. There are also a fair number of regular spectators. Other than the two cheering squads, nothing is interesting about the spectators, so I settle in to watch the rest of the match.

The match is okay, but nothing special. Sejong scores first, and early, but despite a brave defence, they are just not able to hold off their professional opposition. Before the half is done, Deagu B is ahead 1-2, and they add one more in the second half.

After the match, on the way to the bus stop, it starts raining. I'm not prepared for rain! But there is nothing to do about it, so I just try to get to the bus stop as quickly as possible, hoping my bus comes quickly. I don't look forward to the travel stress of getting to Cheonan Station, but such is the adventurous life, I guess.

I doubt I will ever go to Sejong again if it involves public transport, but I'm glad I finally made it.

2025.03.01 - Sejong Citizen Stadium

Sejong SA FC 0:5 Daegu FC B

Note: The original owners of FC Sejong have since created a new club called Seoul Phoenix FC and entered them into the Malaysian semi-professional league system. I don't understand how it's possible, but they are a Korean team, playing in the Malaysian leagues, claiming the history of FC Sejong.

1. End Of The Line

Korean version proofread and edited by Park So-yeon

soyeonaaaa@naver.com

The 2025 football season has finally arrived, and the first leagues to engage in battle are the Professional K League 1 and semi-professional K4 League. In the K League 1, FC Anyang are set to play their first-ever top-tier league match against the team who they dislike most, FC Seoul. As an FC Seoul supporter, I would like to be there, but that is not part of the plan this year. Instead, I’m off to Yeoncheon for the first round of K4 League. No regrets.

Yeoncheon FC is, as the name suggests, based in Yeoncheon County. It's a small county with only 35,000 people, and much of it borders North Korea. This team is not the first to play here, but they are new to the area. The team's turbulent history saw it starting out in Chungju as a city-owned team, changing ownership into private hands, fighting multiple financial controversies, leading to Chungju City refusing to renew the stadium use agreement. With nowhere to play their football, management was forced to look for a new home, which they found in Yeoncheon.

On the Seoul Subway system, Yeoncheon is the end of the line in the real sense of the phrase. Yeoncheon Station is the Northernmost and final station of Line 1. I start on Line 4, but the moment I transfer to Line 1, I’m reminded why it has a reputation for being the strangest line in the system. The cars are packed despite it being a morning train heading out of Seoul. 97% of the passengers appear to be retired, and with them comes their flair. Coloured sunglasses, wild scarves, canes, odd leather shoes and flamboyant hats abound. And those are just the men. At least I’m not put in a coma by the smell of mothballs. For better or worse, old Koreans do not like to sit at home and die. They go out with a bang, and it's great.

I expect passengers to disembark as we cross the borders of Seoul, but that does not happen. At least half of the passengers stay on to Yeoncheon. Is Yeoncheon bigger and more important than I was led to believe?

By the time we reach Yeoncheon I’ve been on the train for almost two hours, and I need a bathroom. However, the train was packed with elderly people, so everyone else was also heading there. Am I getting old? As I move with the crowd, I can’t help but feel that, yes, maybe I’m old now. 

No surprise, there is a queue for the urinals. In front of me is a man who looks like he’s wearing four thick layers, and about a minute before there is even a urinal open, he starts fishing for his penis under all the layers. Most of us there would not fault him overly much, but does he have to hum to himself while doing the fishing? I haven't even left the subway system, and I can already call the trip an adventure.

Crises averted, it’s time to head out into my first town of the season. Yeoncheon itself is small, maybe even tiny. Where did all the passengers disappear to?! As I wander around, I’m struck by the extraordinary number of gukbap and sundae restaurants as well as the baffling number of spiffy-looking coffee shops separating the restaurants. The combination just does not seem right. The streets are quiet. So quiet that the traffic lights on the main street are switched off. Again, where did all those passengers go?! 

We are barely out of winter, and we’ll be sitting exposed to the elements, so before heading to the match, I need to find something to eat. It’s no surprise that I find a Gugkbab restaurant open, right next to the 30-metre-long central market with its 10 vendors. Seriously, where did all those passengers go?!

With a belly full of warm food, I head out. The stadium is a 15-minute walk from the station and can hold 9000 spectators. But getting to the stadium is the easy part. Getting into the stadium is the real challenge. When you arrive, you have the options of going up a ramp that seems to lead up to the back of the seating areas or staying on the ground floor and walking alongside the stadium. From the outside, the main stand looks to be elevated, so it’s reasonable to assume we should go up to find the entrance to the eating area, but like many of us come to learn, all those gates are closed, and we end up walking over and down the other side.

I find the entrance on the ground floor, and as I enter, I see the teams lined up to enter the arena, Yeoncheon on the left, Pyeongchang United on the right. Next to Yeoncheon are two lines of children, ready to go onto the field. No one explained to them that one line should accompany the Pyeongchang players. There hasn't been football in the town for a few years, so we can forgive them for not knowing the ins and outs yet. The “security” in the stadium is so lax that one father has his little girls walk up to the players to pose for a photo. Not even the players notice as they are too distracted by two lines of noisy boys.

After a minute or two trying to find out where to go, I notice someone entering a door behind which is a staircase. I follow them and we make our way up to where the seats are. Officially, 538 spectators are seated on the main stand, though how they would know that is beyond me. No tickets were given out, and we weren’t counted as we entered. I find a seat to the side, hoping to get some useful game photos, just in time to see the players take the field for the pre-game introductions.  

Possibly the most entertaining part of the whole match is the children. The boys who came onto the field with the players to line up with them are dismissed before the team photos are taken. But they don't leave the field in an expected, orderly manner. Instead, they run off the field, in a screaming ball, triggering universal laughter in the stands. But they are not finished. They spent half of the match trying to one-up each other while performing one chant, over and over, louder and louder. From time to time, they get bored and start running around, kicking a ball that appeared out of nowhere, before resuming the single chant.

But the most memorable child, the most memorable thing about the whole day, is a little girl who is here with her parent. I’m not good at guessing the age of children under 6, but she was old enough to walk, talk and most importantly, climb. She was dressed for winter, complete with a pink jacket, pink gloves, and a pink beanie. And she was exploring. Somehow she made it down 4 steps/seats and wanted to come back. Because she is barely bigger than the steps, getting back involves climbing. I watch her lean in, put her hands on the step and lift her stubby little leg up and on. Then,  as she pushes herself up, she utters this unforgettable phrase: “Oh-choh-cohgi! Museoweo!” And each time she climbs a step, she says: “Oh-choh-cohgi!” The image of her climbing and “Oh-choh-cohgi!”-ing like an old woman will forever be stuck in my head. 

The match was fun, even if it was completely one-sided. Yeoncheon holds on bravely and finishes the first half only one goal down. But their inability to complete even simple short passes, and the keeper fumbling every time an attacker rushes him, lets them down completely. The first half ends with Pyeongchang United leading 0-1, but by the time the final whistle blows, they are 3 0-5 ahead. It's a fantastic start for Pyeongchang, but a nightmare first home match for Yeoncheon.

 2025.02.22 - Yeoncheon Sports Complex

Yeoncheon FC 0:5 Pyeongtaek United FC

1. 종점

한국어 감수 및 편집 박소연

soyeonaaaa@naver.com

2025년 축구 시즌이 드디어 도래했고, 가장 먼저 맞붙은 리그는 프로 K리그1과 준프로 K4리그입니다. K리그1에서는 FC안양이 가장 싫어하는 팀인 FC서울과 사상 첫 1부 리그 경기를 치를 예정입니다. FC서울의 서포터로서 꼭 참가하고 싶었지만 올해 계획에는 포함되지 않았습니다. 대신 K4리그 1라운드를 위해 연천으로 떠납니다. 후회하지 마세요.

연천 FC는 이름에서 알 수 있듯이 연천군에 연고를 두고 있습니다. 인구가 3만 5,000명에 불과한 작은 군으로, 대부분 북한과 국경을 접하고 있습니다. 이 팀이 처음 출전한 것은 아니지만, 이 지역에 처음 온 팀입니다. 충주에서 시 소유 팀으로 시작해 소유권을 개인 소유로 바꾸고 여러 재정적 논란에 맞서 싸우며 충주시가 경기장 사용 계약 갱신을 거부하는 파란만장한 역사를 가진 팀입니다. 축구를 할 곳이 없어 경영진은 새로운 보금자리를 물색할 수밖에 없었고, 연천에서 이를 발견했습니다.

서울 지하철 시스템에서 연천은 이 문구의 진정한 의미에서 노선의 끝입니다. 연천역은 1호선의 최북단이자 종착역입니다. 4호선에서 출발하지만 1호선으로 환승하는 순간 왜 시스템에서 가장 이상한 노선으로 유명한지 다시금 생각납니다. 서울을 출발하는 아침 열차임에도 불구하고 차들이 꽉 찼습니다. 승객의 97%가 은퇴한 것처럼 보이고, 은퇴자들과 함께 그들의 감각이 돋보입니다. 컬러 선글라스, 야생 스카프, 지팡이, 이상한 가죽 신발, 화려한 모자가 가득합니다. 그리고 그들은 바로 남자들입니다. 적어도 나방 냄새 때문에 혼수상태에 빠진 것은 아닙니다. 좋든 나쁘든 한국 노인들은 집에 앉아 죽는 것을 좋아하지 않습니다. 그들은 펑 소리를 내며 외출하는데 정말 좋습니다.

서울의 국경을 넘을 때 승객들이 내릴 것으로 예상하지만 그런 일은 일어나지 않습니다. 승객의 절반 이상이 연천에 머물고 있습니다. 연천이 제가 생각했던 것보다 더 크고 중요한가요?

연천에 도착할 때쯤이면 기차를 탄 지 거의 두 시간이 지났는데 화장실이 필요해요. 하지만 기차는 노인들로 붐비고 있어서 다른 사람들도 모두 연천으로 향하고 있어요. 제가 나이가 드는 걸까요? 사람들과 함께 움직이다 보니 네, 어쩌면 이제 늙었을지도 모른다는 생각이 들어요.

놀랍지 않게도 소변기 줄이 서 있습니다. 제 앞에는 두꺼운 옷을 입은 것처럼 보이는 남자가 있는데, 소변기가 열리기 1분 전쯤 모든 옷 아래에서 음경을 찾기 시작합니다. 우리 대부분은 그를 지나치게 탓하지 않겠지만, 낚시를 하면서 혼자서 흥얼거려야 할까요? 저는 지하철 시스템을 떠나지도 않았고, 벌써 이 여행을 모험이라고 부를 수 있습니다.

위기를 피할 수 있었고, 이제 시즌 첫 번째 마을로 떠날 시간입니다. 연천 자체는 작을지도 모릅니다. 승객들은 모두 어디로 사라진 걸까요?! 방황하는 동안 국밥과 순대집의 수가 엄청나게 많고, 식당을 분리하는 매운맛 커피전문점의 수가 놀랍습니다. 조합이 제대로 되지 않는 것 같습니다. 거리는 조용합니다. 메인 스트리트의 신호등이 꺼질 정도로 조용합니다. 다시 말하지만, 그 승객들은 모두 어디로 갔을까요?!

겨울이 거의 오지 않았고, 다양한 요소에 노출되어 경기장으로 향하기 전에 먹을 것을 찾아야 합니다. 10개의 노점상이 있는 30미터 길이의 중앙 시장 바로 옆에 국밥집이 문을 연 것은 놀라운 일이 아닙니다. 정말로 그 승객들은 어디로 갔을까요?!

따뜻한 음식이 가득한 배를 들고 밖으로 나갑니다. 경기장은 역에서 도보로 15분 거리에 있으며 9000명의 관중을 수용할 수 있습니다. 하지만 경기장에 도착하는 것은 쉬운 일입니다. 경기장에 도착하는 것은 정말 어려운 일입니다. 도착하면 좌석 뒤쪽으로 이어지는 경사로를 올라가거나 1층에 머물며 경기장을 따라 걷는 옵션이 있습니다. 외부에서는 메인 스탠드가 높아 보이므로 식사 공간 입구를 찾기 위해 올라가야 한다고 생각하는 것이 합리적이지만, 많은 사람들이 배우러 오는 것처럼 모든 게이트가 닫혀 있고 반대편을 오르내리게 됩니다.

1층 입구를 발견하고 들어가자 경기장 입장을 위해 팀들이 줄을 서고, 왼쪽 연천, 오른쪽 평창 유나이티드가 보입니다. 연천 옆에는 두 줄의 아이들이 경기장에 나갈 준비를 하고 있습니다. 아무도 평창 선수들에게 한 줄이 동행해야 한다고 설명하지 않았습니다. 몇 년 동안 이 마을에 축구 경기가 없었기 때문에 아직 안팎을 모르는 그들을 용서할 수 있습니다. 경기장의 '보안'이 너무 허술해서 한 아버지는 어린 딸들을 선수들에게 다가가 사진을 찍기 위해 포즈를 취하게 합니다. 시끄러운 소년들의 두 줄 때문에 선수들조차 눈치채지 못합니다.

1~2분 정도 어디로 가야 할지 고민하던 중 누군가 계단 뒤에 있는 문으로 들어오는 것을 발견했습니다. 저는 그들을 따라가서 좌석이 있는 곳으로 향합니다. 공식적으로 메인 스탠드에 538명의 관중이 앉아 있지만, 그들이 어떻게 알 수 있을지는 저를 넘어섭니다. 티켓도 나눠주지 않았고 입장할 때도 집계되지 않았습니다. 경기 전 소개를 위해 선수들이 경기장에 나서는 모습을 보기 위해 유용한 경기 사진을 찍기 위해 옆자리에 앉았습니다.

경기 전체에서 가장 재미있는 부분은 아마도 아이들일 것입니다. 선수들과 함께 경기장에 나온 소년들은 팀 사진을 찍기 전에 퇴장당합니다. 하지만 그들은 예상대로 질서정연하게 경기장을 떠나지 않습니다. 대신 비명을 지르는 공을 타고 경기장을 뛰쳐나가 관중석에서 보편적인 웃음을 유발합니다. 하지만 경기가 끝난 것은 아닙니다. 경기의 절반은 서로의 실력을 겨루는 동시에 한 번의 구호를 반복하고, 더 크고 크게 연주합니다. 때때로 지루해진 아이들은 갑자기 나타난 공을 차며 뛰어다니기 시작한 후 한 번의 구호를 재개합니다.

하지만 하루 종일 가장 기억에 남는 아이는 부모님과 함께 이곳에 온 어린 소녀입니다. 저는 6세 미만의 아이들의 나이를 추측하는 데는 서툴지만, 그녀는 걷고, 말하고, 무엇보다도 등반할 수 있는 나이였습니다. 그녀는 겨울용 옷을 입고 분홍색 재킷과 분홍색 장갑, 분홍색 비니를 착용하고 있었습니다. 그리고 탐험을 하고 있었습니다. 어떻게든 그녀는 4계단/좌석을 내려갔다가 다시 오고 싶어했습니다. 계단보다 겨우 키가 큰 아이였기 때문에 다시 오르는 것은 등반과 관련이 있습니다. 저는 그녀가 몸을 기울이는 모습을 지켜보며 계단에 손을 얹고 뭉툭한 작은 다리를 위아래로 들어 올립니다. 그런 다음 스스로를 밀어 올리면서 그녀는 잊을 수 없는 말을 남깁니다: "오-초-코-기! 무소웨!" 그리고 계단을 오를 때마다 이렇게 말합니다: "오-초-코-기!" 그녀의 등반 이미지와 "오-초-코-기!"- 할머니처럼 노래하는 모습은 영원히 제 머릿속에 남아있을 것입니다.

경기는 완전히 일방적이었지만 재미있었습니다. 연천은 용감하게 버티며 전반전을 단 한 골만 내주고 마쳤습니다. 하지만 간단한 짧은 패스조차 완성하지 못하고 공격수가 돌진할 때마다 골키퍼가 더듬거리며 완전히 쓰러뜨립니다. 전반전은 평창 유나이티드가 0-1로 앞서며 끝났지만, 마지막 휘슬이 울릴 때쯤이면 0-5로 3점 차로 앞서고 있습니다. 평창에게는 환상적인 출발이지만 연천에게는 악몽 같은 첫 홈 경기입니다.

2025.02.22 - 연천종합운동장

연천 FC 0:5 평창 유나이티드 축구단