7. Amateur City

The K5 to K7 leagues are Korean amateur leagues. K7 League divisions include teams from single small cities or districts in larger cities. K6 League divisions comprise teams from multiple districts within a large city or multiple counties of a province. Finally, K5 League divisions include the best teams from a single large city or from an entire province.

Today I’m on my way to watch the first round of the K5 League - Seoul Division. It should come as no surprise that the Seoul Division has a few notable teams. In recent years, FC Byeoksan, based in Gwanak-gu, won the overall (think national title) K5 League title, and even made it to round three of the Korea Cup, where they fought valiantly, but were ultimately defeated by a Gimpo FC that finished high in K League 2 that year. TNT FC is a club that takes pride in its professionalism. They claim to pay players match fees, rare in amateur leagues, and the club's mission is to prepare players for life in professional leagues. TNT also has more weekly training sessions than any other team in this division. They train every day, while most teams train as few as twice a week. Lastly, there is KY FC (GeonYung FC), the team selected to represent Seoul in the 2025 Korea Cup. Most other leagues are happy with having just one team with the stature of these three. Only Jaemmix FC from Gimhae comes to mind when I think of notable K5 League teams.

Of the remaining three, FC ITPL’s goal seems to be to help players for life in other countries, which is understandable because the team was formed by a group of players returning to Korea after studying abroad. FC Together claims to put team harmony above all else, while AS FC, Hampton EMC and Jungnang District FC have no information online.

Just before I leave home, the skies darkened, and light snow starts dropping from the dark cloud cover. Accompanying the snow is a wind so strong it blows our balcony door, and blows plastic bags up and over 15-floor apartment buildings. I'm having serious doubts about this trip, but as quickly as the ominous weather appeared, it disappeares, so I gathered my resolve to go watch football.

Today’s matches will be held at a public field tucked between Hanyang University and a feeder stream to the Han River, just a short walk from the university subway station. I'm confident I'll find it easily because I attended the 2024 Homeless World Cup at Hanyang University. I have everything I need in a waterproof bag, and I’ll be early enough to find a hot lunch before the matches start.

On the way, I receive a message from my wife saying that the transfer station had a fire, and I might need to find another route to Hanyang University. While I’m scrambling to make sure I have everything for an early transfer, she sends a second message saying it was small and everything seems fine, crisis averted. I eventually reach Konggug University, and since I’m at the end of the platform, I have a chance to look out of the station windows for restaurants. There are a surprising number that I don’t remember seeing on the map. Even stranger, everything looks unfamiliar once I go through the turnstiles. Why is this? And why does that board say the train in the opposite direction goes to Hanyang University and Wangshimni?! *Deep breath.*

Last year, while attending matches at the 2024 Homeless World Cup, I arrived at Hanyang University from the South. Coming from the West, I was caught off guard by how close the University is to Wangshimni, and I didn't notice when we stopped at Hanyang. Now I’m three stops away, and definitely not within walking distance of today's venue. I won’t have time to find lunch before the matches start, so I stop by the station bakery to grab some sad-looking bread before jumping back on the train. Finally at Hanyang University, I pick up a coffee to ward off the cold before heading to the playing field.

When I arrive, I know I’m at the right place, because I see FC Byeoksan’s "fan club". It’s my third time at a Byeoksan match, and I know that no other K5 team in Seoul has one man with a drum and a handful of chants cheering them on. I also see the teams ready to walk onto the field.

The field is so new that the Kakao Maps street view only shows construction work in the area. The artificial surface field that is there now has markings for one full-size pitch or two medium-sized pitches. Behind one goal is a stand of sorts, and on the other end is a field where you can practice putting for the golf croquet hybrid that is so popular at the moment. The stand consists of giant steps that serve as seats, and there are already five to ten spectators, whom I assume are friends and family or team staff. Who else would come out to the middle of nowhere in this weather to watch Tier 5 football? That would just be silly. Near the football field is a small baseball field, and throughout the afternoon, children and parents pass by to play in what I assume is the Korean version of Little League Baseball.

In the amateur football leagues, all matches in a round are played at a single location on a single day, one following another. In the K5 League, they play full 90-minute matches, and the four matches today will run from 1 pm to almost 8 pm. This is either amazing or ridiculous, depending on your viewpoint.

The first match is a one-sided clash between FC Byeoksan vs AS FC. Most of the match is played in the AS half, where they allow a steady stream of goals. But what makes the match memorable is the weather. It shifts between overcast and sunny, rain, no rain, and sunny with rain. At one point, we had something too big and round to be snow, but too light and soft to be hail, and during one of these snow-like periods, the match was briefly stopped. The field has no protection from the wind, and the match is stopped because of the strange snow-like precipitation, the wind blows so hard that players and referees are forced to shield their eyes. Boxes and chairs rolling onto the field don’t help either. As if all this was not bad enough, it was all happening at about 5 degrees Celsius. You have to admire the dedication of everyone involved to stay on the field.

Because the match turnover is so rapid, when half-time arrives, the teams playing in the next match take the field to warm up. Just before the end of one match, the next teams are already lined up to take the field. As soon as the last player from the previous patch leaves the field, the next teams run on, greet each other and take 5 minutes for a final warm-up before the match officially starts.

During the break in the Byeosan vs AS match, I scrape together the courage and go over to the Byeoksan fan to ask him his name. If I’m going to see him again, I’d like to say “Hello.” Frustratingly, I still don't know his name because he only gives me his YouTube channel name, “Unique Football Supporter”. I’m the 12th subscriber of the channel where he occasionally live-streams to talk about football, and interacts with the one or two people watching. He also records himself while he cheers and uploads it as a vlog, complete with an introduction about the day’s match.

The second match of the day is a hard-fought one with TNT FC taking on FC Together. Both teams seem desperate to win, and at times, tackles are nasty. Some of the tackles are so ridiculous that I’m wondering if I’m watching Association Football or Rugby Football. Near the end of the match, tensions boil over when a TNT player goes in too hard on a Together player. It gets so heated that two referees have to rush and keep the players apart. And just when everything seems calm, the Together manager storms over, but is blocked by a team effort of one TNT and one Together player. I don't understand how that didn't start things up again. This is also the only match where there is obvious support. FC Together has a group of at least 20 people cheering them on, complete with rain coats in the team's colours. But they have no drums or chants, so Byeoksan FC wins that battle.

The third match is another one-sided one, with Hampton EMC taking on GeonYung (KY) FC. KY’s dominance is not surprising since, as mentioned previously, they are Seoul’s K5 representative in the Korea Cup this season. But I don’t even notice the score, because I can't take my eyes off the marshmallow that is the KY keeper. The man had the genius idea to wear a padded jacket under his shirt. It looks ridiculous, and I love it. He seems like a character. As soon as he arrives at his goal, he swings his arms around a few times, turns in my direction, pulls the strangest face, and exclaims in Korean: “It’s cold!” In case you didn't know, Koreans are genetically, culturally and possibly even legally required to state it out loud every time they feel cold. He also looks like one of the laziest keepers ever, yet he comfortably blocks every goal attempt. Although I didn't see the match, I hear he was on fire in the KY’s Korea Cup match. Despite not letting in even a single goal, he is substituted at half-time for a non-marshmallow-looking player. This half-time change reminds me of Seoul Martyrs FC, who invariably changed keepers at half-time, possibly to avoid letting one keeper concede more than 5 goals per match.

The final match is Jungnang District FC vs FC ITPL. Earlier in the week, I contacted ITPL on Instagram and received a reply. I was hoping to chat with someone about the club, but I have no idea who I’m looking for, or even which of the two teams warming up is ITPL. Sure, I can just call someone over and ask which team is which, but my “talking to strangers” energy is low after talking to the Byeoksan fan. I walk past the players warming up, hoping the person I chatted with on Instagram calls me, the only non-Korean over, but it doesn't happen, so I go back to the seating area to mope.

Without the prospect of talking to someone from ITPL, and with the sun setting behind the buildings, I decide that I will not be able to handle another two hours of the cold, and grudgingly go home. As much as I wanted to watch all four matches, I’m glad I went home. Even two hours later, after I’d had dinner and been in the apartment for an hour, I still feel cold. I can't remember if I’ve ever had to watch in weather this bad, but you know what? This is the stuff adventures are made of.

6. Weather the Storm

I’m on my way to the Jungnang District on the eastern border of Seoul, where the aptly named Seoul Jungnang FC plays their home matches. This is a team with a long and fascinating history. It’s is one, if not the only, corporate club in the K4 League.

The team was created in 1982 by an attorney Lee Min-geol, then named Aram FC, to compete in the Seoul City Office Workers' Football Morning League. Ten years later, he changed the name to Mustang FC. The club was always supposed to be about the love of the game, and members often helped each other financially in order to continue playing. In 2002, the team began competing in the Puma Cup Footy League, which would later evolve into the Connie Green Cup, the precursor to the amateur K3 League. The team was briefly named Dongdaemun Mustang Football Club, but when Myeonmok-dong was incorporated into Jungnang-gu, the team name naturally became Jungnang Mustang Football Club.

Lee Min-geol wanted more for the club and teamed up with fellow Korea University graduate and head of the Chorus Law Firm, Park Hyung-yeon, to create a K3 Challengers League team. The team joined in 2012 and was to be called Jungnang Chorus Mustang FC. They've been playing at the tiny Jungnang Community Field since joining the league, and only moved briefly while maintenance work was being done on the field. 

In 2017, they changed their name again, to the simpler Seoul Jungnang FC, but their emblem still displays Jungnang Chorus Mustang FC, and the main sponsor on their shorts is often Chorus Law Firm. In their early years, the team's primary goal was development. They provided a place for players straight out of high school, as well as university dropouts, to continue their football careers. I would love to speak to someone at the club and ask if they still hold to these values. However, they have no clear contact information, and their disinterest in social media or their site makes a bit more sense now.

Before the match, I researched the squad and player histories. Four former Seoul Nowon United players found a new home at Jungnang, notably the top scorer of the 2024 season, Kim Dong-Ryul. Four players previously played for TNT FC, the K5 that prides themselves on preparing players for professional leagues. An interesting player is #30 Lee Ji-hun. He started at K League 1's Ulsan but struggled to earn game time with one of the strongest teams in the country. He eventually found regular playing time at Gwangju FC; however, he was released when Gwangju was relegated to K League 2. Next, he joined K League 2’s Seongnam, where he remains contracted. Like many professional players, he applied to join the military team multiple times but was never accepted, possibly due to a lack of sufficient first-team appearances. Like many others, he chose the community service alternative, which allowed him to play for a semi-professional team. He’s been on loan to Jungnang since the 2024 season.

Both teams come into the match with no league points. In the Korean Cup, Jungnang failed to make it past Round 1, while Sejong earned its spot in Round 3 the previous weekend by beating a team that barely missed automatic promotion to the country’s top professional league. To be fair, professional teams don't take the early rounds seriously. The team that went to Sejong had only one first-team regular in the lineup and was no better than a reserve team like Daegu B, which is currently competing in K4 League.

Jungnang’s field is a short walk from Yangwon Station. The first sign of the team is an emblem on the window of an office under the station building. Except, there is nothing inside, it's a big empty room That's not being used by anyone. A road runs from the station toward the grounds, passing between the train track and a park, which is empty on this unusually frigid day. It’s not my first time at Jungnang, so I know that in better weather, families are scattered about, parents chatting on picnic blankets while children run around on the grass and climb on anything that would allow it. The Seoul Trail, a 160km course that roughly follows the borders of Seoul, passes through this park, and despite the cold weather, I see a fully geared hiker making their way through.

The football field is tucked away in a far corner of the park. It's easy to miss when there is no match. Next to the field is seating, only 5 steps deep, that starts at field level, and it’s just metres away from the sideline. It’s uncommon, even in the K4 League, to be so close to the field. Between the two main seating areas is a structure, on top of which VIP sit. It has a small tiered seating area in the back, for the worst view possible. Towards the front are tables where most of the officials sit with match documents in front of them. The ground floor of the structure houses the dressing rooms. Photos posted on Kakao Map show that the dressing rooms are just two empty rooms with a few chairs and a small table. There are no adjoining toilets, so players must go out and past spectators to reach the public toilets. It’s not every day you get to share urination space with a player, and I was tempted to ask for an autograph just to say I did it.

Across the field, our view of the park is blocked by a small hill. The trees are bare, but between that and the small mountain behind us, it feels like we're surrounded. Towards the left is a small parking area, and on our right, trains regularly approach or leave the station. The weather is mostly overcast, and more than once I have confused the low rumble of a train for distant thunder.

I arrive just before the match starts and decide to get some photos from the outside in. I climb a bank and stand right behind the Sejong goal. The spot is fantastic for photos and gives you a sense of what the goalkeeper sees, but it’s exposed to the freezing wind. Once I'm satisfied that I have at least one useful photo, I go find a seat with the surprisingly large group of visiting supporters. To my right are three members of the Sejong supporters group, and to my left are the visiting casuals. Just past them are the Sejong reserve players and staff. At times, our view is obstructed by the manager and coach, and when the reserves go to warm up, we all lose sight of the entire field for a few seconds as they walk past. Having your view obstructed by the coaching staff is one of the quirks of football at Jungnang Community Field.

The official attendance estimate is only 125 spectators, so it’s not surprising that the spectators are generally quiet. The three members of the Sejong supporter groups, Chungnyeongdan, with their one drum and megaphone, dominate the audible support. They are not as active as supporters of large teams, but they are consistent and don’t stay quiet for extended periods. 

For the duration of the match, the weather alternates between combinations of sunny, overcast, snowy, and windy, but it’s bitterly cold the whole time. In the first half, Sejong dominates both possession and territory. The pressure pays off when they score two quick goals, broken up by an unexpected Jungnang goal, completely against the run of play. For the second half, Jungnang comes out ready to fight. They often go into tackles recklessly, but at least the game seems even. Throughout the half, the play swings from end to end, and with about 10 minutes to go, Jungnang equalises. The match ends in a draw, giving both teams their first league points of the season.

2025.03.30 - Jungnang Community Field

Seoul Jugnang FC  vs Sejong SA FC

5. Dedication

The trip for the Korea Cup Round 2 between Busan IPark and Busan Transportation Corporation will be a long one, but it’s a rare derby match in a city that, until this season, has had only two league teams. The two teams have met only once before, 9 years previously, and I-Park won 3-0.

Busan IPark FC has been around since 1983 and is currently owned by HDC Hyundai Development Company, which is, not surprisingly, for the IPark brand apartments. The team are currently playing in K League 2. Busan Transportation Corporation FC (BTC) was established in 2006 and is owned and operated by, well, Busan Transportation Corporation, which operates the subway lines in and around Busan. Today's game will be played at Gudeok Stadium, the home stadium of Busan Transportation Corporation FC. But wait, it’s also the home stadium of Busan IPark FC. Yes, IPark will be playing away at their own home stadium. Go figure.

My day starts early because my city has neither bus terminals nor a train station. (Everyone wants a bus terminal, but no one wants it in their neighbourhood.) I take two buses to Gwangmyeong where I board the KTX. From my door to the stadium will take roughly four and a half hours, and the return trip might be longer. Sometimes, I wish I had a car. But only sometimes, because what kind of adventure starts with “There I was, alone in my car, for 3 hours…”?

I arrived in Gwangmyeong fairly early to get a coffee and explore the station a bit. Thank goodness I did, because the stations on either end are much more interesting than the train trips between them. I'm surrounded by people looking like they are just there to spend a day out of the house with no intention of going anywhere further than the benches they are glued to. Even the pigeons inside the building aren't particularly interested in moving overly much.

As stated before, the train trip to Busan is boring. Instead of hungry, man-eating zombies, I’m surrounded by docile, phone-staring zombies. Only once during the whole trip did I see a small group dig into a bag to retrieve food. What is Korea coming to? How am I supposed to make fun of people when they don’t dig in spare plastic bags for individually wrapped snack and fruit pieces as soon as they sit down for a trip?

As we near Busan Station, the fact is announced and displayed on the monitors. In an instant, 95% of the passengers are up to remove their luggage from the overhead racks. The train hasn't started slowing down yet, but there they are, in the aisle with travel suitcases in hand, waiting for the door to open. Everyone wants to be first to wait for the door to open, first to get on the escalator, first to stand on the escalator, and first out of the station so that they can be first to wait for a taxi, or first to wait for a bus, or first to wait for the subway to arrive. After the scare of no one eating on the train, I'm relieved to see I'm still in Korea, after all. Only a small number of us calmly wait until most passengers are gone before we start moving to the door. We are, almost invariably, travelling alone.

It's been a long time since I've been to Busan Station, and I don't remember it being so busy. I make my way out of the mess of people to find the subway. Did you know that the Busan subway cars are set up differently from those of the Seoul subway? I didn’t, and it bothers me. I’ve spent years training my brain, and I can instantly tell if and where I want to sit. But these cars are breaking my settled brain. There are only two doors per car, and the number of seats between doors is more than I’m used to. What is this madness?!  

I overcame the immense challenge of finding a seat on the nearly empty train and complete the short trip to the stadium. As I exit the station, I quickly check to see if the stadium is visible, and it is, if well camouflaged by the surrounding buildings. You can easily walk to within 100m of the stadium and not realise it’s there. The gray stadium easily blends with the gray surroundings. There's just nothing noteworthy about the stadium. Even the inside resembles numerous others throughout the country, and it feels no different from entering Suwon FC or FC Anyang’s grounds. At least those grounds have temporary stands on the running track, but at Gudeok we don't even have that luxury. Everyone, without exception, has to watch the action from behind a running track.

At the ticket booth, I pay and forget to ask for the discount allowed for using the subway, owned and operated by the team’s owners. Ticket in hand, I head in. I was hoping to walk around and take photos, but the different sections are gated, so instead I find a shady seat on the main stand and look at the spectators near me. Just as I'm settled, something interesting, but not photo-worthy, happens. A spectator walks up to the gate that separates sections, pushes, and walks through. It’s not locked, and there is no security. You can sit where you want, and the separation is just an illusion. A walkabout is available again.

A few weeks earlier, I learned that Transportation has a supporter group with non-Korean members. The group is called the Soju Drinkers. I messaged them when I decided to attend this match, hoping their communication game is not as pathetic as every club I’ve tried to contact in the past. It’s not, and someone answered me a day later. So here I am, heading through the gate to where the Soju Drinkers are gathered in the shade of the scoreboard.

Before I get there, a young man, looking about high school age, spots me and comes to greet me. I later learn his name is Yeong-Han. The others notice him greeting me and rush over. Everyone speaks at least some English and seems happy to see a new face. I also met Dong-Hyeon.  I think he's the leader of the group and the one who answered me on Instagram.

Introductions over, we sit and wait for the match to start. While we do, someone in a red IPark appears. The security is so lax that he just walked out of the away area, through the main stand and into the home support section to come greet his friend. There really is no animosity between these two sets of supporters because I suspect they often stand side by side supporting either of the two teams playing today. It's just a matter of which team is your main and secondary team in Busan. (I wonder how Gijang supporters will fit into this friendly arrangement.)

And speaking of lax security, the elementary school-aged youth team that went on the field with the player before the start of the game ran wild. Each received a commemorative ball, and throughout the match, small groups of sky-blue-clad homunculi could be seen running from this side of the main stand to that, into the IPark section, and back again. The running often involved mini-football matches played on the wide open section in front of the VIP section.

Unlike large supporter groups, this small band doesn't start singing and changing an hour to thirty minutes before kick-off and only really gets going once the match is about to get underway. They have one big drum, one small drum, and a flag that they struggle to assemble. In front of them are banners proclaiming their name and ideals. Despite their name, they don’t appear to hold to “ultras” ideals. They seem more interested in supporting grassroots football with families and children as supporters. I also don't recall seeing or smelling any alcohol throughout the match.

The Soju Drinkers sing and chant for much of the match using chants with a surprising amount of English. It’s rare for teams to use more than one or two random English words, but today, I’m hearing complete sentences that make sense. Although they don't chant continuously, they keep up a steady rhythm. When IPark score the first goal, they don't grow despondent and stop, but just "chug along". They don’t stop when BTC equalises, and they definitely don’t stop when BTC takes the lead. One of my favourite moments came at the end of the match as one member struggled to hold back their emotions.

The match was an interesting one. IPark dominated most of the first half and scored first off a penalty, apparently for a bad tackle. I had to find the match online for a closer look because from where we sat, it looked like the IPark player hopped into the air, like a grasshopper on a hot plate, a full second after losing the ball. The replay suggests it’s a definite “maybe”, and I do not fault the referee for his decision. The second half had BTC come out of the gate like bulls possessed. They were physical, sometimes unnecessarily so, and it felt like IPark players were rolling on the ground more than they were playing the game. Still, I didn't feel sorry for them. How do you injure your leg, then roll around and kick out “in pain” so violently that you lift off the ground? That does not seem like the optimal way to prevent further damage to your supposedly injured leg, does it?

BTC’s first goal was the result of a mess in which the IPark defence was nearly nonexistent. The ball was booted across the face of the goal, straight past the defenders. One attacker attempted to score on the near side but missed the ball. The keeper, reacting to the attempt at goal, was caught completely out of position as the ball passed the initial attacker. The ball rolled to the feet of two additional attackers waiting in the box, one of whom knocked it into the net. The second goal came from a ball that was ripped across the pitch from the sideline. A BTC player, seeing the ball heading straight to him, stepped up and rocketed it towards the edge of the goal. With the help of an unexpected bounce, the ball flew past the keeper for a goal that will be memorable for being both beautiful and the game-winner.

Once the player shook hands, both sets of players walked all the way to the opposing goal line to bow to the supporters. I dont know how common it is in Busan, but in Seoul and Gyeonggi, teams rarely bother crossing the halfway line to "say thanks" to the opposition supporters. In return, I don't bother thanking them for their effort on the pitch. Here, however, I'm happy to applaud their efforts.

After the match, I pack my gear and make sure I have everything. When I look up, everyone except two Soju Drinker remains. Even more confusing, all the gear remains in the stand, so clearly they will be back. But where are they now? I look around, hoping to see someone, but eventually I decide to just head home. But as I’m about to leave the grounds, I hear singing and look over to see the Soju Drinkers waiting for the team next to the team bus. I guess I’m going there now.

In typical lower league fashion, there is little fuss. The players arrive in drips, and before they enter the bus, they shake hands with fans and occasionally sign a shirt. Four IPark supporters, still wearing their IPark shirts, are also standing there to ask for autographs and selfies. This is the way it should be. Imagine an FC Seoul supporter in red and black standing between the blue-clad Bluewings supporters near the team bus for an autograph. 

Before leaving Busan, I go into the China/Russia/Wild West Town just outside the station to look for something interesting to eat. I settle on what I think are Uzbeki baked goods and head towards the station while I chew and take some photographs. I guess I look Russian enough because a sailor stops me to ask something in Russian, but I speak no Russian at all. He does speak a little English and manages to ask me where he can find Wifi. Lucky for him, most coffee shops have free Wifi and you don't have to be inside to get access to the signal. So I take him to a coffee shop I passed earlier, before heading to the station and home.

It was a nice day out, but I'm not sure I like the cost and rush involved with these faraway teams. I might not get to visit towns like Jinju and Geoje any time soon.

2025.03.23 - Gudeok Stadium

Busan Transportation Corporation FC  vs Busan IPark FC