14. It's Bigger Than I Thought

The train bound for Munsan is only one station away, and I can't wait to get out of the freezing wind cutting straight through me. This is worrying because I'll spend much of the day outside, exposed to said wind.

I'm on my way to Paju to watch Paju Citizen FC. The club was founded in 2012, and although they've never been one of the semi-professional league's powerhouses, they've always been a competent mid-table team, even finishing runners-up in 2022. Like Yeoju before, I've threatened a trip to Paju many times, but the travel time has always discouraged me. Who in their right mind travels as much as two and a half hours to visit a small city bordering North Korea?

Today is Paju's last home match in the K3 League, and if that's not motivation enough, then I don't know what will be. "But, why is this their last match in the K3 League?", you may ask. It's because the city has decided to turn the team professional, and they will join the K League 2 in 2026. They still need to receive final approval in January, but all indications suggest that it's just a formality. Gimhae 2008 FC, who would be crowned K3 League Champions on the same day, also applied to join K League 2, along with a new team that had been created in Yongin, a city in the South of Gyeonggi Province.

The trip to Paju is mostly uneventful, with many passengers taking long trips and using the opportunity to get some shut-eye. One exception is a couple with a baby who insist on sitting in the centre of a row of seats despite a pink seat being available. At the next station after the couple gets on, three older women get on and argue about who should sit where. The one standing and barking out the orders is standing right next to the mother and child when the train jerks, causing her to fall onto the mother and child. The baby is quiet for a few seconds before the shock sets in, and then she starts screaming. The older woman tries to help, but quickly realises it's not helping, so she just sits there sheepishly looking at nothing. This seems to prompt an unrelated woman next to her to weigh in on the situation when the screaming did not stop immediately, but she might as well have said nothing for all the reaction she gets. Yup, it is a pretty boring 2-hour ride if this is all that I have to report.

I'd been to a part of Paju once before, and that was mostly just riding through on a bus, so I was surprised at the size of the area around Geumchon Station. Of all my trips this year, the walk to the stadium has by far the best variety of restaurants, coffee shops and assorted establishments. I had a specific restaurant in mind before the trip because I contacted the supporter I met in Yeoju, asking for a recommendation.  He recommended a Sundaeguk restaurant that he'd been visiting for many years, and I can see why. I don't know how to explain the difference, but their sundae is not the same as the sundae I'm used to, but it is still very good.

With a belly full of lunch, I cover the last kilometre or so to the stadium, giving myself enough time to walk around, take photos, and get something from the food carts that the club posted about on their Instagram account. There are only three trucks, but all are useful. A Philly Cheese Steak truck, a churros and ice cream truck, and a coffee truck.

With a warm coffee and churros in hand, I made my way into the stadium. Entrance is free, and not only is there no fee, but they are "paying me". Everyone entering gets a bottle of water and two boiled eggs. The team-branded paper noise maker is a given, though, so I don't count that as something special.

Inside, I take photos as I start making my way over to where some Paju supporters are already gathered, and along the way, I pass a young man heading in the opposite direction. When he sees me, he quickly turns around, grabs a bottle of water from a pile on a seat, and hands it to me as a gift. You can never have too much water in your bag, can you? And soon after reaching the fans, I'm handed a Paju Citizen FC-branded scarf by a member of the group.

I have to talk about the scarf. Most team scarves in Korea are impractical. Often long and thick, which would be perfect if the season ran through winter, but the Korean football season runs through the hot, humid summer, and a thick scarf is just impractical. The scarf I'm handed today was custom-made for the day and is being given away for as long as the supply lasts. What makes it special is that it is essentially a long towel, and honestly, one of the most useful things I've ever received at a club. With this thing in hand, I can comfortably whisk away sweat while cheering on a team, if it were not this cold day at the end of the season, that is.

The Paju supporters group, named 술이홀, is an odd bunch. Because the group is fairly small, they all know each other to some extent, but they don't seem to have a leader. Instead, everyone kind of does their own thing and ropes the rest in with them. This is even true when they cheer. The three drummers do not seem particularly coordinated, but somehow always in sync. And as the game goes on, some random "leader" will start a chant, with everyone quickly joining in with whatever they started. Then, when that chant is done, the next random "leader" will start, and everyone will go with the new chant or song. It was fascinating to watch. 

At some point, someone brings out a box with even more eggs. There must be 50 eggs in there, and they are begging everyone to take two, or three, or more.

During the first half, I notice a single supporter on the Mokpo side, so I make my way over to see if I can talk to them. They speak almost no English, and the conversation doesn't last long, but I'm able to learn that they are not actually Mokpo supporters, but supporters of a specific player who used to play for Incheon. On the way back from the Mokpo side, I notice a black man, presumably of African descent, sitting alone in the stands. This is an unusual sight, and I stop to ask if he minds a quick conversation. I learn that he's reporting on the game using an app on his phone. I don't want to bother him because he needs to concentrate, but I would have loved to find out more about this, presumably, side job.

Wow. Today I managed to contact a member of the supporters group, talk to them and other members after I arrived, as well as go up to two complete strangers to talk to them. It's not that I don't like talking, because if you come up to me, then I can talk your ears off, but I made first contact today, and I wish I could fully express how big an achievement this is for me.

During the half-time break, as people go to the bathrooms or wherever people go, I amuse myself by watching those who remain. One guy is posing for a photo. He asked someone close by to take the photo, and he looks fairly normal, even shy, until it is time to pose for the photo, when he gets this determined, hard-man expression and stance, which disappears the moment the photo is done. But my favourite part is his Paju replica shirt. It's the number 1 goalkeeper shirt, and the name above the number is 골키퍼, the Korean transliteration of the word "Goalkeeper". Now I want to see a number 9 shirt with "Striker" as the name.

The match itself was fine, but it basically summed up Mokpo's season. Paju screwed up a back pass, and a Mokpo attacker intercepted it with space to run. The keeper started rushing out, so the attacker lobbed the ball in a high arch over the keeper, just for the ball to his the crossbar and bounce back instead of in. But it did not stop there because the ball bounced back and landed at the feet of a second Mokpo attacker, who looked at all the space in front of him and slid it past the keeper, into the crossbar! On any normal day, you would expect both of those to go straight in, or at least bounce in a favourable direction, but not today with Mokpo on the field.

As this was the last home game of the season, there was a ceremony after the match. But they spend so much time faffing about with speeches, highlights of the season on the big screen and photos with the main stand in the background, that I just give up and left. It's not worth freezing in the wind for 30+ minutes just to get one more photo.

There is one more K3 League round left this season, and I'm considering going to Siheung, which will be hosting Paju, but there is also an important WK League match in Seoul. I'm leaning toward the WK League match, but we'll see what happens when I get closer to the day.

2025.09.25 - Yeoju Stadium

Yeoju FC vs Jaju Citizen FC

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

*****

9. Beer and Grass

Early-season kick-offs are nearing their end, and soon long trips will become impractical. Even today’s kick-off at Yangpyeong is 16:00 rather than 14:00, and their next home match will be at the summer 18:00 kick-off time. Most matches during the summer kick off at 19:00, and on a long trip, it will mean I will arrive home near midnight. I dislike arriving home that late.

Today, Yangpyeong Citizen FC hosts FC Mokpo. Mokpo are a former National League team and regulars in the top half of the K3 League. However, 2025 did not start well for them. They enter the 8th round without a single win, and their only point so far came from a draw in round 7. The upside is that the draw was against possible title challengers, Pocheon Citizen FC. I chose this match today because I’ve never been to Yangpyeong other than cycling through it, and because I have a soft spot for struggling teams. I’m hoping to see Mokpo earn its first win of the season.

An advantage of the slightly later kick-off is that I don't have to leave home as early as I normally would. But I still want to have lunch in Yangpyeong, so I decide to leave earlier anyway, and fill the time by walking from the station to the stadium rather than taking a bus. The trip starts with the normal ride into Seoul to the now familiar transfer onto the Gyeongui-Jungnang line. This is the same line that takes you to Seoul Jungnang FC, and Namyangju Citizen FC, and hopefully later this season, Paju Citizen FC. There is only one line with more teams, professional and semi-professional teams near it is Line 1, with five teams, and it used to be eight.

Yangpyeong is a favourite with cyclists, despite the time needed to get there. It’s next to a large tributary of the Han River, and connected to the Seoul-to-Busan bike path. Many cyclists get off at Yangpyeong and cycle back to Seoul, while others venture out onto the quiet mountain roads. The weather is finally warming up, and I was expecting to see masses of cyclists heading out, but there are barely any today. But it’s almost midday, so maybe I missed the rush. Without the crush of cyclists and their bikes to look at, the journey to the edge of Gyeonggi Province is almost boring. There are no weirdos to gape at, or strange scenes outside to scratch my head over, just the urban landscape, slowly turning to mountains on one side and a river on the other.

Despite the line terminating a few stations later, most people get off at Yangpyeong Station. I don't know where everyone's going, but unlike Yeoncheon, most people do not look retired. Just outside the exit is a Tourist Information kiosk. The lady working there seemed quite eager to help me, but unfortunately, I know where I'm going. I’m only looking for a map of the local attraction, for future reference. Life is not just about lower-league football, after all.

Once I leave the kiosk, it’s time to get to Yangpyeong-ing. First on the agenda is lunch. I heard Yangpyeong is big on haejangguk, so that’s what I’m looking for. Earlier, I found a restaurant on Kakao Maps and I head in that direction. Along the way, I find a different restaurant that looks good and enter for a bowl of Sundaeguk. For those who don't know, haejangguk is a soup made with chopped, throw-away bits of a pig, like the stomach, intestines, and liver. Sundae is that with a few pieces of blood-noodle sausage. It might sound disgusting, but don't poo-poo it until you try it. I don't know why Korean tourism organisations are so hesitant to introduce tourists to these kinds of foods. It's not glamorous, but it's part of Korea, and visitors usually want to experience as much of a country as they can. Food is usually high on the list of things to do; I’d happily classify it as a must-eat.

With the space in my stomach filled, I’m off to the stadium. It takes about 45 minutes, but I get to see the surroundings. Yangpyeong is fairly rural, with fields being readied for rice right next to small blocks of high-rise apartments.  Here and there are random shops and cafes. I lived in Icheon, and I thought that was rural, but I now realise why Icheon is a city, and Yangpyeong is just a county. For most of the walk the the roads are so quiet that I’m able to jaywalk at will. Instead of sharing the sidewalk with people, I share it with grass spiders scurrying across my path.

Within sight of the stadium, I find the supermarket which I marked as a location to buy snacks, water and maybe a beer or soda. It’s as quiet as the surrounding area, and the aisles are more spacious than I'm used to. This is a luxury in Korea. As is my habit, I head straight to the makgeolli to see what they have on offer. Unsurprisingly, they only have the stuff I don’t even consider real makgolli, but unlike in more urban areas, they sell theirs in double size, 1.7 litre bottles. For a brief moment, I consider getting a bottle and a can of cola, but instead, I take a bottle of corn tea because sometimes I’m Korean like that.

As I approach the stadium, I see people apparently outside the stadium, looking in. I’m not about to pass up the opportunity to take a photo of someone looking at the playing field, so I head up behind the main stand for a photo, and discover that there is open access to a grass bank next to the field. Not only is someone standing there looking at players warming up, but there are people set up for a picnic. At Yangpyeong Citizen FC, you can watch football while having a picnic on a grass bank. I don't even care that there is a running track around the field, this alone must make it one of the best stadiums to visit in the country. On top of that, there is the general view from within the stadium. Some of the K3 and K4 stadiums have spectacular backdrops, and Yangpyoung is not one to be left behind. Unlike a large mountain overlooking Yeoncheon Stadium, here we have a small mountain directly next to the stadium, with the larger mountains far in the distance.

Just before the match gets underway, I find a comfortable spot under a tree and settle in for the first half. Soon after the match starts, I hear an impressive number of people chanting. On the main stand, I can see two people with drums leading the crowd. They don’t look like an organised supporter group, but more like enthusiastic spectators. The woman leading the cheering is good, and she manages to keep people active for much of the match. She is accompanied by a less active mane. Looking at them, it's not clear if they're doing this for the love of the game or if they are working for the team.

Throughout the first half, I’m distracted by playing children. The boys are throwing their shoes at each other, and the girls are picking flowers to weave together, while their parents chat on the blanket under the tree. Can they behave any more stereotypically than this? ^^

During half-time, I take a walk around the ground and make my way to the Mokpo supporters' side. There are about ten of them, but I would classify only one as a fan. He has the shirt, banner and noise maker, and occasionally he launches into a chant. The rest just sit and applaud from time to time. It seems boring, so I head around to the home side and spend most of the second half between the Yangpyeong supporters.

When the half starts, so does the distraction, or entertainment, depending on your viewpoint, of the cheerleaders. The woman is still going strong, but the man, who might be her husband, sometimes beats the drum, and sometimes gets children to do it, and sometimes stares at his phone. The spectators have those paper fans they often hand out at matches, the foldable ones that double as noise makers, and some even have plastic hand clappers. I have no idea if these were handed out before the match because I went straight to the grass banks, but if they brought them along from previous matches, then colour me impressed.

As for the match, Mokpo FC didn’t look like a team that scored only 1 point from 8 matches. They looked dangerous and even led for a while. Mokpo scored while I was wandering around towards their supporters’ side, and I didn't see it happen, but I did see both of Yangpyeong’s goals. Both looked odd, as if the keeper was surprised by events. With the match well balanced, both teams started to feel the time crunch at the end of the match. Tempers started to flare to the point where we almost saw a fist fight. But as time ran out, Yangpyeong had two goals and Mokpo only one, making it eight losses in nine matches for the visitors.

The trip home was where the weirdos showed up. Someone sleeping on the reserved seats, three women arguing loudly about who should sit where, while running back and forth to try and convince the fourth to join them, just to have her put her fingers in her ears, wave her hands and stick her tongue out like a child, and people in the oddest clothing combinations imaginable.

The trip to Yangpyeong was generally pleasant, much of that coming from the stadium and fans. I'd happily recommend this venue to anyone looking to go somewhere a bit out of the way.

2025.04.19 - Yangpyeong Sports Complex

Yangpyeong FC  vs FC Mokpo

0. End Of A Miracle, Start Of An Adventure.

Korean version proofread and edited by Park So-yeon 

soyeonaaaa@naver.com 

I’m an FC Seoul supporter, not so much by choice as by circumstance. The first match I ever watched in Korea was at FC Seoul vs Ulsan. Daejan still had short hair, and Adi still had long hair. And not only where FC Seoul the first, but also the easiest team to reach. Two or three years later, I started attending matches regularly and eventually became a season ticket holder. I was at the match when they won the Korean FA Cup in 2015, and I was at every home match when they took the league title in 2016.

Then Hwang Sun-hong took over as manager, and everything changed. The problem for me was not that FC Seoul were struggling, but that they didn't seem interested in winning. I don't mind watching a losing team, but they didn't seem to care, which made me not care, and I stopped going altogether.

While still a season ticket holder, I moved closer to Seoul and had access to the subway system and to many more teams. I learned about the K3 League and free matches at stadiums hidden between apartment buildings. I went to watch Seoul Martyrs lose by amazing margins. I travelled to Chuncheon to meet fellow football watchers to see if the new Martyrs coach would make a difference. I went to Goyang where I was approached by a player from Africa, asking if I’m a scout or if I know a scout.

During the 2014 season, I went to Nowon to watch Seoul United FC vs Icheon Citizen. I immediately felt an affinity with the club and would go watch a match there at least once a season after that. Seoul United FC was formed when two amateur teams joined to enter the new K3 League. The club had dreams of being a home-grown Seoul team, for the fans, by the fans. At this match, I sat on the side of the visitors because I spent a few years working in Icheon. But on the opposite side of the small stand were four guys with a drum, singing and chanting in support of United. This tiny group of supporters and the history of the team left an impression on me, and they became the amateur team I supported.

Seoul United won the inaugural season of the K3 League, but as is often the case in non-professional leagues, they struggled financially. The team were never able to repeat the feat of their first season and became a consistent bottom-half team. When the K3 league was split into two, they were relegated to the then K3 League Basic, and when the National League joined the K3 League, United were placed in the K4 league we know today. And this is where this story begins.

Just as in K3 League, the now Seoul Nowon United FC still struggled. They entered the 2024 season with a 9-point penalty because, for no clear reason, they decided not to play their final match of the 2023 season. It was going to be another year with no hope for promotion. Despite the penalty, they were chugging along and quietly accumulating league points. Keeping only half an eye on the lower league, I only started noticing them as the final rounds approached and United were somehow in the mix. The 2024 season was uncharacteristically congested. One or two wins could easily see a team jump multiple league positions.   It was easy for a team to be near the bottom of the league, but just a win or two away from the promotion zone. Seoul United was just that team. With the points deduction, they were hiding just out of sight.

I don't recall the exact standings, but going into the final round of the season, United were in 9th place, and I was predicting that, on form, they would be lucky to finish 5. Still a fantastic result considering the season. But, there was a chance, a tiny chance, that they could qualify for the single playoff spot, and I wanted to be there just in case. So I paid Nowon a semi-annual visit to see what would happen. And boy, am I glad I was there. United scored a 6-0 victory over fellow promotion hopefuls. And with some good results from other matches, they managed to leapfrog everyone and finish the season in 8th. The team went to Pocheon for the promotion-relegation playoff, where they suffered a heartbreaking 2-3 loss because their star player and league’s leading scorer, Kim Dong-wook, didn’t have permission to play after the regular season.

The leader of the team's small supporters club wrote this just after their loss in the final game:

오늘 우리는 패배했지만 실패하지 않았다.

적지 한가운데에서 우리 팬들의 응원으로 경기장을 가득 채웠고, 주전 스쿼드를 쓸 수 없는 상황에서도 상위리그 팀을 압도하며 90분 내내 당당하고 치열하게 모든 힘을 다해 싸웠다.

17년간 수많은 동지와 적이 우리의 곁을 떠나갔지만, 우리는 죽지도 잊혀지지도 않고 또 한 시즌을 살아남았다.

우리는 무수히 패배했고 무수히 좌절했지만 결코 버릴 수 없는 꿈을 위해 다시 내년 봄 마들에 설 것이다. 우리가 포기하지 않기에, 서유는, 노원은 절대 실패하지 않는다.  

“2024 시즌을 함께 한 모든 분들 고생 많으셨습니다.”

Approximate translation:

*Today we lost, but we didn't fail.*  

  

*We filled the stadium with our fan support in the middle of the enemy territory, and even though they could not use the main squad, they overwhelmed the higher league team and fought with all their might for 90 minutes.*  

  

*For 17 years, many comrades and enemies have left our side, but we survived another season without dying or being forgotten.*  

  

*We have been defeated and frustrated countless times, but we will stand again and the fountain of our dream will not be abandoned. Nowon, never fails because we will never give up.*  

  

*Thank you for all your hard work in the 2024 season.*

As the 2025 season approached, I started learning more about the teams and leagues. Despite being interested in lower league football, I never really made an effort to find out just who the teams and players were. I was looking at home grounds, reading news about new teams and just generally spending too much time planning weekend adventures.

And then tragedy struck. Seoul Nowon United FC posted on Instagram that there were internal conflicts, and Nowon Council revoked, or at least did not renew, the agreement for the club to play at Madeul Stadium. With no grounds to play at, and the start of the season so close, they were forced to withdraw and be banned from the league for the 2026 season. Management decided they would disband the team instead, hinting that they might be back someday.

I had no team to follow, but there was still a league and the hope that the team would come back. And that the new adventure was created, visit every team in the K4 league at least once, and sprinkle in some visits to close K3, K5-7 and WK League teams, and document the experience. Specifically, I want to document the off-field action, the travels to get there and the happenings at the match, not the on-field action.

And with that plan in mind, and a notebook in hand, I’m off to watch some K4 League.

0. 기적의 끝, 모험의 시작

한국어 감수 및 편집 박소연

soyeonaaaa@naver.com 

저의 팀은 FC서울입니다. 제가 한국에서 처음 본 경기는 FC서울 대 울산 경기였습니다. 그때 데얀은 짧은 머리를 하고 있었고, 아디는 긴 머리를 하고 있었습니다. 그리고 가장 처음 경기를 본 팀일 뿐만 아니라, 가장 쉽게 갈 수 있는 곳이기도 했습니다. 그 후 2-3년 후에는 정기적으로 경기를 보러 가기 시작했고 결국 시즌 티켓 소지자가 되었습니다. 2015년 대한민국 FA컵 우승 당시 저는 경기장에 있었고, 2016년 리그 우승 당시에는 홈 경기마다 있었습니다.

그런데 황선홍 감독이 부임하면서 모든 것이 바뀌었습니다. 저에게 문제는 FC서울이 힘들어하는 것이 아니라 우승에 관심이 없는 것 같다는 점이었습니다. 지는 팀을 보는 것은 괜찮습니다. 그러나 더 이상 신경 쓰지 않는 팀의 태도는 제가 팀을 신경 쓰지 않게 만들었고, FC서울의 게임을 보러 가지 않게 되었습니다.

시즌 티켓 소지자였을 때 저는 서울 근처로 이사하게 되었고, 지하철을 통해 더 많은 팀을 보러갈 수 있게 되었습니다. K3리그와 아파트 건물 사이에 숨겨진 경기장에서 벌어지는 무료 경기에 대해 알게 되었습니다. 서울 마터스가 놀라운 차이로 지는 모습을 보러 갔습니다. 새로운 감독이 변화를 불러올지 알아보기 위해, 다른 축구 팬들을 만나기 위해 춘천으로 여행을 갔습니다. 고양에 갔을 때는 아프리카에서 온 선수가 제가 스카우트인지, 아는 스카우트가 있는지 물어보았습니다.

2014 시즌 동안 서울 유나이티드 FC와 이천 시티즌의 경기를 보러 노원에 갔습니다. 그 후 한 시즌에 한 번 이상 그곳에서 경기를 관람하곤 했습니다. 서울 유나이티드 FC는 두 아마추어 팀이 새로운 K3 리그에 합류하면서 창단되었습니다. 서울 유나이티드 FC는 팬들을 위한, 팬들에 의한, 서울을 홈으로 하는 꿈을 가지고 있었습니다. 이 경기에서 저는 이천에서 몇 년 동안 일했기 때문에 원정팀의 편에 앉았습니다. 하지만 작은 관중석 반대편에는 북을 들고 노래하고 구호를 외치며 유나이티드를 응원하는 네 명의 남자가 있었습니다. 이 작은 응원단과 팀의 역사는 저에게 깊은 인상을 남겼고, 제가 응원하는 아마추어 팀이 되었습니다.

서울 유나이티드는 K3 리그 첫 시즌에서 우승했지만, 비 프로 리그에서 자주 그렇듯이 재정적으로 어려움을 겪었습니다. 팀은 첫 시즌의 위업을 재현하지 못하고 꾸준히 하위권 팀이 되었습니다. K3 리그가 둘로 분리되면서 당시 K3 리그 베이직으로 강등되었고, 내셔널리그가 K3리그에 합류하면서 유나이티드는 오늘날 우리가 알고 있는 K4 리그에 편입되었습니다. 그리고 여기서 이 이야기가 시작됩니다.

K3리그와 마찬가지로 지금의 서울 노원 유나이티드 FC도 여전히 어려움을 겪고 있습니다. 명확한 이유 없이 2023시즌 마지막 경기를 치르지 않기로 했기 때문에 2024시즌에 9점의 페널티를 받고 들어갔습니다. 또 승격을 기대할 수 없는 해가 될 것이었습니다. 페널티에도 불구하고 그들은 조용히 리그 포인트를 쌓고 있었습니다. 하위 리그를 절반만 주시하고 있었지만, 최종 라운드가 다가오면서 어쩐 일인지 서울 유나이티드가 섞여 있는 것을 알아차리기 시작했습니다. 2024시즌은 유난히 혼잡했습니다. 한두 번의 승리로 순위가 쉽게 상승할 수 있었습니다. 한 팀이 리그 최하위에 가까워지는 것은 쉬웠지만 승격권에서 한두 번의 승리에 불과했습니다. 서울 유나이티드는 바로 그 팀이었습니다. 감점 때문에 그들은 보이지 않는 곳에 숨어 있을 뿐이었습니다.

정확한 순위는 기억나지 않지만 시즌 최종 라운드에 들어가면 서울 유나이티드가 9위를 차지했고, 운이 좋으면 5위를 할 수 있다고 예상했습니다. 시즌을 고려하면 여전히 환상적인 결과입니다. 하지만 아주 작지만 플레이오프 단일 진출권을 획득할 기회가 있었고, 만약 그런 일이 생기면 거기에 있고 싶었습니다. 그래서 노원을 반기별로 방문해 무슨 일이 일어날지 확인했습니다. 그리고 거기에 있어서 정말 기뻤습니다. 서울 유나이티드는 동료 승격 후보들을 상대로 6-0 승리를 거두었습니다. 그리고 다른 경기에서 좋은 성적을 거두며 모두를 제치고 8위로 시즌을 마무리했습니다. 승격 플레이오프를 위해 포천으로 간 팀은 정규 시즌이 끝난 후 주전 선수이자 리그 득점왕인 김동욱이 출전 허가를 받지 못해 2-3으로 가슴 아픈 패배를 겪었습니다.

팀의 작은 서포터즈 클럽의 리더는 결승전에서 패한 직후에 이렇게 썼습니다:

 

오늘 우리는 패배했지만 실패하지 않았다.

적지 한가운데에서 우리 팬들의 응원으로 경기장을 가득 채웠고,

주전 스쿼드를 쓸 수 없는 상황에서도 상위리그 팀을 압도하며

90분 내내 당당하고 치열하게 모든 힘을 다해 싸웠다.

 

17년간 수많은 동지와 적이 우리의 곁을 떠나갔지만,

우리는 죽지도 잊혀지지도 않고 또 한 시즌을 살아남았다.

 

우리는 무수히 패배했고 무수히 좌절했지만

결코 버릴 수 없는 꿈을 위해 다시 내년 봄 마들에 설 것이다.

우리가 포기하지 않기에, 서유는, 노원은 절대 실패하지 않는다.

 

“2024 시즌을 함께 한 모든 분들 고생 많으셨습니다.”

 

 2025 시즌이 다가오면서 저는 팀과 리그에 대해 더 많이 알게 되었습니다. 하위 리그 축구에 관심이 있었지만, 팀들이 어떤 모습인지 찾기 위해 노력한 적은 없었습니다. 저는 팀들의 홈을 둘러보고, 각 팀에 대한 뉴스를 읽으며 아주 많은 시간을 쓰면서 주말 모험을 계획했습니다.

그리고 비극이 닥쳤습니다. 서울 노원 유나이티드 FC는 인스타그램에 내부 갈등이 있었고, 노원구의회는 마들스타디움에서 뛰기로 한 구단 계약을 취소하거나 최소한 갱신하지 않았다고 게시했습니다. 새 시즌이 다가오면서 출전할 근거가 없어 어쩔 수 없이 탈퇴하고 2026시즌 리그 출전이 금지되었습니다. 경영진은 대신 팀을 해체하기로 하며 언젠가 복귀할 수 있음을 암시했습니다.

응원하는 팀이 없어졌지만, 리그는 여전히 있었고, 팀이 돌아올 희망이 남아있었습니다. 새로운 모험을 결심했습니다. K4 리그의 모든 팀을 한 번 이상 직관하고, 가까운 K3, K5-7, WK 리그 팀들의 경기를 분산해 다녀오는 것이었습니다. 그 경험을 기록하고 싶습니다. 구체적으로는 경기 자체가 아닌, 그곳으로 가는 여정, 그리고 경기장에서 일어난 일들을 기록하고 싶습니다.

그 계획을 따라 공책을 들고 K4 리그를 보러 떠납니다.