It feels like I've had to wait an eternity for the first home match, but in reality, it's only been 13 days since the first round match in Suwon. It could be much worse. Last year in the 2025 K4 League, Gijang, a brand-new team, didn't have a home match for the first month of the season. This match is also special because Gogga is joining me.
I mentioned before that one of the reasons I chose Seoul this season is the ease of reaching their home ground. It takes about the same time to get to Seoul as it does to get to Suwon, except I don't have to worry that I will accidentally get on the wrong bus (happened), or not realise the bus with open door righ in front of me it is my bus (happened), or be stuck waiting outside in bad weather (happens all the time). Instead, I get on the only train that arrives at the platform, transfer once, and try to pay attention so that I don't miss the World Cup Stadium Station, which I'm embarrassed to say happened multiple times in the past.
We arrive at World Cup Stadium, almost missing that we need to get off, around 6pm and like my previous Friday evening visit, only a few people get off. It's just us, and one other person. How is it possible that so many people live in the area, but the station is this quiet? Similarly, HomePlus is as quiet as a church. Last time I was here on a Friday evening, I thought it was just an odd day, but maybe this is normal. Where do all the people living in the nearby apartments do their shopping, and how do they turn a profit if they dont have a decent number of customers early on a Friday evening?
Inside HomePlus our options for food are disappointingly limited. We have prepacked fried chicken, fresh fried chicken, and jokbal. There are also small packs with ginger and soy sauce for chobab (sushi), but no chobab. For drinks, I manage to find a bottle of my favourite makgeolli in the fridge, but where the beers are supposed to be, there is just empty space. With no cold beer available, Gogga picks up a cheap but drinkable white wine. Yes, we are taking white wine to the football. The shelves in general look odd. Instead of the overwhelming number of options you'd expect in large supermarkets, we see entire shelves displaying one single drink. There was even an entire aisle stocked with just one brand of barley tea. It feels like HomePlus is having a clearance sale before they close down. We leave the weird aisle behind and pay, and with plenty of time to spare, we head over to the Auxiliary Stadium.
At the stadium, Gogga signs up for a permanent QR code. Does this mean she will join me for more matches? I'm hopeful, but only time will tell. She knows she has an open invitation. We find seats in the home section and get settled. Young women dressed in what I can only describe as "slightly sexy Christmas outfits" hand us blow-up noise makers and foldable paper clappers, both ubiquitous at Korean sports events. I assume the ladies will act as our cheerleaders for the match. (For what it's worth, I dont see why cheerleaders can't wear jeans and t-shirts, like Gimpo FC did one season.) There is also a man handing out stacks of paper clappers, but instead of handing them to spectators who don't have any, he hands the stacks to random spectators and motions them to distribute or put them on a chair for others to take. Basically, he is trying to get others to do his job for him.
Both sides of the stand have more people than I expected, and the official count puts us at just short of 300. Our side has as many young people as adults. There is a group of girls wearing the same uniforms as the Seoul team, who I assume are the youth team, possibly the under-18s. I mentioned to Gogga that the vast majority of spectators today will be female. This should not be surprising at the women's league, but over the last few seasons, the percentage of female spectators has also been growing at the men's matches, both in the casual sections and the cheering sections. Quite a few teams even have women manning the drums. I like that women are feeling more welcomed at football, although I suspect there is still that undertone of it being a man's world.
On the Sejong side, someone is already chanting, and I think I know that voice. I stand up and look over, and indeed, it is someone I know as Unique Football Supporter. He is what I call a Lone Hero. A Lone Hero is usually a single man with a drum and a flag, cheering for a small team, while the rest of the spectators watch the match in near silence. Some of these Lone Heroes also support a larger professional team, but that is not their main focus.
The Lone Hero supporting Sejong tonight is special. I first saw him about 4 years ago at a K5 League match where he was cheering on Byuksan FC. I think he lives in the Gwanak area because he also supports K6 League's Renew FC, and both teams are based in Gwanak-gu. When I met him last year, I learned that he has a YouTube channel, and from his channel, I learned that he supports teams in almost every league in the area, including the winter futsal leagues. This evening, he is here for Sejong, which is nowhere close to Gwanak-gu. The man is, to me at least, a Lone Legend.
Before the match starts, a group of young dancers provide us with some entertainment. They perform their first number alone, and are joined for a second number by the cheerleaders. The performance is not to my taste, but they are doing their best to entertain us, and for that I will applaud them. Once they finish, they line up to welcome the players onto the field.
The players walk onto the field to the sound of Pirates of the Caribbean and line up facing the stands. While the players are lined up, a dog barks in the stands. Some of the substitute players standing in front of us turn around, spot the puppy, and point out the fluffy furball to the other substitutes. It's fun being so close to the field that the players can comfortably interact with spectators. Out on the field, the starters greet each other and the referees, then proceed to form circles for their pre-kickoff chant.
For most of the match, Seoul looks the stronger team. It feels like they are starting to gel because their play is definitely less chaotic. It might also just be that Sejong is not as strong as Suwon or Incheon. Despite all the pressure Seoul exerts in the first half, nothing much happens. During the half, I take the opportunity to walk around for photos. There is a tree off to the side, and it's blooming with white flowers, similar to cherry blossoms. It provides me the opportunity to capture the kind of photo you can only get in the springtime. Next to me is a young doggo and its owner. It's friendly and tries to smell me the whole time I'm taking photos. I offer my hand for it to smell, and the owner seems okay with me touching it. The mess of curls on its head is so hot I could die.
Next, I head out of the stadium for a wider view. There are benches next to the ground, outside the fenced-off area, and invariably, there will be at least one person sitting there. It's almost always an older man, and I'm convinced they sit there because they don't want to pay. More charitably, they probably just walked by, saw something happening on the field, and decided to sit down for a while.
In the second half, Seoul continues to pressure, but it still feels like we are heading to a scoreless draw. That is, until the sixty-eighth minute, when there is a flurry of goals. Number 15 Gang Yu-Mi scores first, and No 2 Bin Hyeon-Jin joins her for a fun celebration dance right in front of us. Two minutes later, number 9 Gang Tae-Gyeong makes it 2-0 for Seoul, and just one minute after that, Sejong scores. Fun times. Sejong spends the rest of the match pressing hard, but they don't manage to equalise. The way Seoul handles this pressure concerns me. With only a handful of minutes left, they try to play the ball out of danger rather than just going route one and hoofing it downfield.
The match finishes without further goals, and instead of their immediate circle conference, the players come straight to the home fans to thank them. It's a small thing, but it makes me really happy. While the team has their circle conference, the youth team start making their way down to the field for what we assume will be a photo session, and we make our way out of the stadium.
As we leave, I notice Sejong players lined up on the halfway line with a coach in front of them. They sprint to the goal area, where they line up and repeat. I'm not sure what's going on, but it looks like they are being punished for losing the match. I suspect that they are the reserves and players who were not in the match-day squad getting a workout.
It was another fun night of football with much to write about. However, as the season unfolds, I suspect the novelty of home matches will start to wear off. It will be the same subway ride, with mostly the same pre-match routine, and most of the same spectators every week. I doubt I'll post on every match, and at some point, I will start grouping matches together.
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