13 - The Battle Of Orange

Today's match will see YeoJU host PaJU. Both teams' home shirts are orange, JUhwangsek in Korean, with YeoJU wearing bright ORANGE and PaJU a burnt ORANGE. For so much JU, I've named this match The Battle of Orange.

Jeoju is a smallish city on the edge of Gyeonggi Province, best known as the final resting place of King Sejong the Great. It's also known, to a lesser extent, for rice and ceramics. Like Yangpyeong, I know it as a city along the Seoul-to-Busan bicycle path.

Yeoju FC is a citizen club created in 2018. The sitting Mayor of Yeoju is the owner, and the head of Yeoju Football Association is the CEO. Historically, they've never been more than a competent team. They were one of the initial members of the K4 League at its inception in 2020 and earned promotion to the K3 League in 2023.

I've made plans to visit Yeoju FC many times, but I always find an excuse to cancel, because to get to Yeoju, I need to travel to Seoul, and then leave in a similar direction. The trip that intuitively feels like it should be about 1 hour is actually a boring, 2-hour-long, mostly underground slog. But today I'm making the trip no matter what.

The train to Seoul is as full as can be expected for late morning, but the train out is surprisingly busy as well. The subway line heading out to Yeoju starts at Pangyo, where the waiting train slowly fills up before setting off to the edge of the province. Just before we reach Icheon, we exit the tunnel system and are greeted with the rice field of South East Gyeonggi, already starting to glow yellow in the afternoon sun. Icheon is also where 75% of the passengers pour out. Most of the remaining 25% are destined for Yeoju.

Even though I knew the match started at three, I got it into my head that it actually started at two, so at Yeoju Station, I immediately started looking for lunch. I originally planned to head to a restaurant I found on the map, but instead, I'm running into the GS25 at the station to get something I can eat while walking. This is where I encounter one of the rudest convenience store workers/owners I've met in a while. The dude didn't say a single word and actually orders me around with dismissive hand waving. Note to self, do not buy anything there if you see this man behind the desk.

Yeoju's stadium is about a thirty-minute walk from the subway station, depending on your speed. This is a perfect distance to get a feel for the area. The walk doesn't take me through the main urban area, but the area I do pass through is strange. Everywhere I look, I see isolated groups of high-rise apartment buildings separated by farms and small houses. The isolated blocks are connected by quiet six-lane roads. I can't imagine who these roads we built for, because surely it's no busier during the week.

After an uneventful walk along the giant, quiet roads, I reach the stadium from the rear, where I'm greeted by a wall of grass. Unlike most stadiums that have a sort of wall surrounding them, this stadium was built with grass slopes serving as the "wall", making it look more like a bowl in the land than a stadium. It also makes me think of the Japanese fortresses from the game Total War: Shogun 2.

It seems like today is a special occasion because in front of the main entrance is an unusual number of tents with food, snacks and games. The largest tent provides tables and seats where people are eating Guksu bought at the nearby vendor. It would have been nice to know about this before I came, but in hindsight, I should've asked the supporter I was in contact with about the possibility of food at the stadium. Speaking of my contact, it's a young man, possibly in high school, who is all of the Yeoju cheer squad. I shall call him... Yeoju Boy! and now I'm imagining him with an orange cape and a team emblem across his chest. 

Having screwed up the kick-off time, I sit around for a good hour, listening to podcasts and watching the teams slowly get ready for the match. At least I'm here to receive a hard, hard candy that Yeoju Boy is hanging out to everyone in the stand. With public relations done, he heads over to set up his banner behind one of the goals. It's a rather large banner, and he struggles until someone comes to help.

About 15 minutes before kick-off, more spectators start to arrive. Today is the last home match of the season, clearly a special day. I don't know if they always give out signed balls, and if they do, do they hand out this many, but they are throwing two big baskets filled to the brim into the crowd. I'm ont interested in one because I dont have space for a ball, but the three people in front of me clearly dont have the same reservations. They quickly collect two, hide them in their bag, and then gather three more. So greedy.

When the match starts, I sit and watch for a while before I start moving around. First up is the Paju fan cheering on his team from the side. We've briefly interacted on Instagram, so I know he can speak some English, and when I show him my Instagram profile picture, he knows who I am. We swap a few words, and I assure him that Paju's last home match is definitely on my agenda this season, and that I will see him there. I also make a mental note to message him to ask him about what will be available at the stadium on the day.

Next, I make my way around the field to where Yeoju Boy can be heard chanting on the megaphone. I arrive at the same time as a bunch of elementary school boys. They run around, push each other, sometimes join in the chant, and peek at me too often. Yeoju Boy speaks to them a little, but he mostly seems indifferent to them. He jokingly tells me that they are the new recruits, but he seems more annoyed than happy with them. Their presence does not interfere with his chanting, though.

Of the two supporters, I have to give the Paju supporter the edge. He has a selection of chants and never quits. However, despite being young,  Yeoju Boy is active enough to be a challenge. He and his loudspeaker even manage to get the main stand to join in on multiple occasions. If he does not leave the city for university or something, he will grow up to be Yeoju Man!

The second most interesting thing about Yeoju Stadium is that they don't have dedicated bathrooms for the players. The players must leave their dressing room and come out to the public bathrooms to brush their teeth and whatnot. This is common at small community grounds like Seoul Nowon and Seoul Jungnang, but I would have expected a larger stadium like Jeoju's to have a more.

The match itself seems dominated by Yeoju, but the dominance never leads to goals. Their only "goal" comes after the whistle, with the Paju goalkeeper on the ground and the referee checking on him. The ball is lying a few metres away in front of an open goal, and not wanting to waste a chance, a Yeoju player runs up and pops it into the net, much to the annoyance of one Paju player. The Paju keeper is having a rough day, being involved in multiple collisions that leave him on the ground more than once, and at one point during the second half, he is clearly limping.

At the end of the match, the teams come off the field without much fanfare, only thanking each other and the opposition coaching staff before heading off and waving to the supporters. The trip back is as boring as the trip there, and only memorable moments come from the man next to me with breath so I have to change seats, and the Seongnam Line's monitors, which display the speed of the train as well as the distance to the next station, down to the metre.

Overall, it was an enjoyable day, but I will need more incentive to take on this boring trip in the future.

2025.09.25 - Yeoju Stadium

Yeoju FC vs Jaju Citizen FC

*****

10. Amateur Town

I’ve been threatening a trip to Uiwang’s K7 League for three years already, but each time I find a date I like, something more important comes up. It’s a shame, because Bugok Sports Park (부곡체육공원) is only a short bicycle ride away, and arguably the easiest field for me to reach, in any league. So here I am, out on the road at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, with just enough time to make the 08:10 kick-off of the first match. The road is so quiet that I can, for most of the ride, hear the buzz of my tires on the road.

Wangsong Lake is along the way. It's known for its rail bike, zip line and family park. The bikes are not running yet, but a few people are out for their morning walks, and the first oksusu vendor is setting up for what looks to be a great day to be outside. I also spot a crane standing on the bank of the lily ponds that feed off the lake. I try to photograph the crane, but it doesn't like me there and eyeballs me the whole time. Even as I ride away, I can still see its head turning to follow me.

Before leaving the lake areas, I stop and take a photo, like I do every time I’m here. It’s not an amazing lake, but I like it. Photo done, I make my way past the vendor and through a tunnel that passes under the train tracks and connects the lake areas to the Railway Museum. The Railway Museum itself is next to the National Railway College, and that is next to the Railway Research Institute. I must pass all three to get to my destination, but along the way, I hear people playing, and I can't resist having a look. There's a casual Sunday match on the Railway College’s football field, but this is not what I came for, so I move on without spending much time there. As I ride the last 300m, I pass numerous recreational trailers of various sizes, most of which I would describe as fold-up tents on wheels. Where are the owners, and why is everything parked on this street? I doubt all the owners work at one of the two railway institutes.

Uiwang seems to like tunnels, because there is another that runs under a busy road next to the venue, allowing me to reach the field without crossing a fairly busy road. I pass through, and I see players heading in the opposite direction for a smoke break. As the day goes on, I learn that smoke breaks are a big part of a K7 League team’s match day schedule.

The venue is a small community sports complex. In one corner are tennis courts already filled, and from them emanate the grunts of human exertion and the thunks of balls hitting rackets. Right next to the tennis courts is a sandpit used for Korean wrestling, ssireum. I believe this is my first time seeing a permanent wrestling pit. There is a path that runs roughly around the football field, and it, like the tennis court, is filled with early risers, retirees covered from head to toe in whatever can shield them from the sun. In yet another corner is a gym with badminton courts, and that too is already filled with matches.

The only unused facilities are the croquet court, which you call a court, and the workout equipment. From time to time, children come to play on the workout equipment, or an old man does something that makes no sense, but for the most part, they remain unused. Near the workout equipment are three women offering free CPR lessons. For the three or 4 hours that I’m there, I see only one person stop and take a lesson from them. The rest of the time, they sit, chat and drink coffee.

At the football field, the seats where players and spectators sit are on one side of the field, while the officials are on the stage at the opposite side. This means players who come on as substitutes must walk or run all the way around to hand in their ID cards, a big ask for some in the K7 Leagues. Next to the stage is an ambulance on standby, supplied by a local hospital, but the only thing I ever see them do is spray a tweaked muscle or two. The single ambulance seems rudimentary, but it’s still much better than pre-2020, when the ref was a player with his shirt turned inside out and medical aid was the first aid kit in someone’s car.

I missed the first kick-off by a minute, but that means I arrive when everyone involved in the first match is already here. There is no sitting around looking out of place as I wait for kick-off. While the two teams play, a surprising number of spectators stand and watch, with almost as many spectators as there are players. Most of them are older men, and it’s not easy to tell how they relate to the team. I’m guessing they are former players, and now help with training and moral support.

The lack of early morning traffic and the distance from the road make for peaceful surroundings, and we can hear everything that happens on the field. You can follow every instruction from the captain and the reactions from the players. You can hear feet on the ground and the thump as boots meet ball. Likewise, you can clearly hear when players smash into each other and apologise for possibly dangerous tackles. You can also hear the comments from the spectators. It’s not uncommon to hear one person saying something loud enough for players to hear, and have everyone on the sideline burst out laughing.

As the matches progress, it’s clear that these are not the fittest players in the country. This is K7 League, the lowest of the amateur leagues administered by the KFA. Most of the players have jobs and families, and little time to train. I imagine that for many teams, the only “team training” they get is the match itself, and whatever other matches they can arrange on weekends when the league is not in action. The keeper in the first match looks like he's smudging a spare football under his shirt and is clearly in need of some cardio training. A quarter of the way into the match, he, the goalkeeper, is already resting with his hands on his knees. But despite his physical appearance, he is the hero of his team. His 7 or 8 diving saves are the only reason they don't lose by a score greater than 0:6.

Another deceptive, out-of-shape-looking player, Gocheon’s #7, appears in the third and final match of the day. He looks like the laziest player on the field, but that is only because he is good at positioning and anticipation. He scores three goals, each from his team putting the ball into space and letting him run on to it. Once he gets the ball, he calmly picks a spot and, despite players harassing him, he smoothly places it past the keeper. How is this man not playing for Uiwang’s K6 team, or maybe even for a weaker K5 team? He scores another from a penalty, making it 4 of his team’s 5 goals. I think I might come back for another round just to see if this is a normal day for him.

Quality-wise, most of the matches are what you would expect. There are wayward passes, mis-timed runs, headers to nowhere, and most shots at goal look more like passes to the side line. All this is interspersed with moments of magic when everything comes together for a goal fit for any highlight reel. Something else I've come to expect from K7 League is the lack of dangerous challenges. There are exceptions, but refs are quick to blow for rough play, and players usually apologise immediately, usually even before the ref can get involved. I imagine this is because players understand that it’s not worth losing their ability to walk just to play a game you likely subsidise with your own money. No one wants to break or tear something, resulting in long layoffs and possibly expensive medical treatments at personal cost.

In four matches, only two collisions made me cringe. One comes as I’m walking along the sidelines. I turn around to follow the action and see a player running the ball along the flank at high speed, closely followed by a defender to provide backup. As the runner loses control of the ball, he pulls up and turns to get back in position. He is almost stationary when the backup defender clatters into him, shoulder to chest, at what looks like full speed. The thump is horrible, and the runner is knocked back. He stumbles before going down, and he stays down for a good three minutes. I don’t think there was any malicious intent, just bad timing, but that could have been so much worse.

The second incident, one that results in a player leaving the field, happens when two players clash and tumble in separate directions. The clash sounds like bone on bone, and both stay down for at least a minute. Again, it was just an accident, and no reason to believe either player intended any harm.

Overall, I’d say this was a good day out and I hope to get to some more K7 during the year.

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 darken, and light snow starts dropping from the dark cloud cover. Accompanying the snow is a wind so strong it shakes 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.

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