26.20 Mount Suwon

A Steep Hill

This will possibly be my last away match of the season, and Seoul has another difficult one tonight.

Today, Seoul makes the short hop over to Suwon to face the team currently running away with the league.

Suwon FC Women have been doing well all season, but since the Champions League final, they have been on a tear. Across all competitions, they have played 16 matches in total, losing just one and drawing two. Going into this match, they are nine points ahead of Hwacheon in second place and 21 points ahead of Gyeongju and Mungyeong in third and fourth.

The Journey to Suwon

The trip to Suwon is not a long one, but it can be annoying.

I use the bus to get to Suwon, which means possibly waiting outside for long stretches. The worst of summer is over, so the heat is no longer a major problem, but the transfer stop is still next to a busy, exhaust-fume-saturated road connecting Anyang to Suwon. And depending on which bus I board there, I might have to stand for a good 30 minutes on a packed bus, swinging back and forth, left and right.

Gogga is joining me again. The main selling point this time is that there are tons of restaurants in the area. We cannot drink beer because we have to go for a medical check-up tomorrow, but she is okay with that. Her choice of dinner today is… SALADY!

It has been a while since we have been there. It is not the most substantial meal, but I will never say no to a good salad.

The Return of an Old Extra Character

After dinner, we have a bit of time, and we decide to visit a perpetual extra character: HomePlus.

As a reminder, the retailer has been through tough times, struggling to fill shelves and pay suppliers. I have not seen the Seoul World Cup Stadium branch since they reopened, but I assume all the branches are operating similarly right now.

The shelves are no longer stocked with just a single type of item, and suppliers seem willing to give them another chance. The alcohol section at this branch, at least, has a small selection of makgeolli and beer instead of just one brand of alcohol-free beer. It is a strange thing to comment on, but it feels reassuring. And maybe I will be able to watch the next home match with some makgeolli again!

Everything feels condensed, though, as the store consolidated limited supplies onto one floor. It is not bad, but now it feels like any other single-floor hypermarket rather than the big E-Mart competitor.

The “Cheese Section” is stocked with soju, and a few of the fridges are being used to display kitchenware. There is clearly still some work to be done here. Still, it is much better than the HomePlus of a few months ago, and despite the odd layout, everything feels more sustainable.

In the food court, most of the restaurants seem to be closed, which is odd considering it is Friday evening. I wonder if they are still in business.

We grab some cold water and a small snack before we make our way towards the stadium.

A Proper Match-Day Experience

Suwon FC Women charges an entry fee.

It is only 5,000 won, and it makes sense because they market themselves as “One Team”, with a professional men’s squad and an effectively professional women’s squad.

With this professionalism, you get a club shop that is open before the game and a refreshment stand inside the stadium that remains open during the match.

We also get what looks like a souvenir ticket and a cooling patch. Both are cheap little additions, but they add value to the ticket price and help make the match feel like an event.

The seating arrangements are also a little different from the opening match I attended here. This time, we enter on the ground floor and are funnelled to either side through the tabled seating section. On the Suwon side, there are at least five times as many tables, and most of the supporters sit there.

On the Seoul side, there are maybe 12 tables, and it is not immediately clear whether we are allowed to sit there. Most people simply walk past them towards the normal seats.

After setting up my banner, upside down by mistake, I head over to the Suwon side to see if I can get some photos of the fans and maybe a signed ball.

The team does not throw balls into the crowd today. Boo! And the fans are slow to get started, leaving me standing around like a lost tourist. They need to take some lessons from their men’s supporters or their neighbours, the Bluewings, who start chanting well before the match begins.

An Unexpected Guest in the Seoul Section

On my way back, I notice someone sitting in the table section on the Seoul side. She looks familiar, maybe a player, but I cannot place her. I later realise that it is number 7, Han Chae-rin. I assume she is injured, but I am not about to walk up to her and ask.

Once we realise that we are allowed to sit at the tables, we move over and make ourselves comfortable a few tables away from her.

The Seoul side is quite empty tonight, so she is the only person of real interest in our immediate vicinity. And sitting near her turns out to be quite amusing.

As an actual squad member, she is much more invested in the action on the field than we are. No one can hear her, but she spends the entire match giving instructions to the players, jumping up whenever something interesting happens and generally behaving like a very well-informed supporter.

Seoul Takes the Lead

On the field, Suwon always looks like the stronger team. Their passing is better, their runs are better, and they have the territorial advantage for most of the match.

But Seoul scores first, just before half-time.

The goalkeeper launches a massive kick across the field. It bounces, and a defender tries to head it out of the box. It does not go far.

Kim Min-ji gets to the ball first and lobs it towards goal, where it hits the crossbar. The ball bounces back into the field, and captain Gang Tae-gyeong is there to smash it into the net.

Against all expectations, Seoul leads. The substitutes, who are busy warming up, celebrate by forming a circle and jumping together, making the whole circle spin as if they are playing Ring-a-rosies.

I manage to get a photo, but I really wish I had my phone ready to capture it on video.

The Main Talking Point

The main talking point of the match actually comes earlier, after Ji So-yeon receives a yellow card.

From where we are sitting, it is not clear what happens. Watching the match online later helped fill in the gaps.

In the broadcast, you can see Ji So-yeon talking to the referee. The referee stops, and as she turns around, she is already reaching into her pocket. At the same time, Ji So-yeon appears to put a finger to her lips, seemingly telling the referee to keep quiet as the yellow card comes out.

Ji So-yeon immediately walks towards her bench, shaking her finger and seemingly indicating that she will not accept the decision.

And from there, things only get more heated.

You can see her talking to the coaches, presumably explaining the situation. The referee follows her and speaks to the coaches as well, while Ji So-yeon appears to become angrier by the second.

Most of the players are staying clear of whatever is happening.

Interestingly, at one point during the argument, Seoul’s Im Seon-ju comes over and tries to calm Ji So-yeon. I suppose they know each other well after playing so many national team matches together. But it does not help.

Eventually Ji So-yeon becomes so angry that, after speaking to the fourth referee, she turns around and throws a bottle of water onto the ground.

The referee immediately pulls out a red card. But three Suwon players step between her and Ji So-yeon, apparently trying to calm the referee down.

I have a feeling the card was never more than a threat, but who knows?

My Rugby Brain

Now, I come from a rugby background, and my immediate feeling is that, no matter what the referee has done, you need to back off. She has made her decision, and she is not going to change it.

Stopping the game for five minutes to scream at the referees is not on. Let it go and make an official complaint after the match.

The next day, though, we learn what had happened. I believe it is the main referee who, while talking to another referee over their communication system, said that Ji So-yeon’s reaction to something on the field was possibly because she was on her period.

Maybe that is funny when you are at home talking to friends who understand your sense of humour. It is definitely unprofessional when you are a referee officiating a match.

After reading this and watching the replay, I definitely have sympathy for the way Ji So-yeon reacted.

I still feel that she should have backed off much earlier, but I also have a feeling that, if it were me, I would have thrown the bottle not on the ground but at the referee.

I do not doubt that Suwon filed an official complaint, but we later learn that Seoul filed one. For what it’s worth, I do not think the referee should be fired, but there should be some sort of disciplinary action.

Suwon Comes Back

Back to the football.

In the second half, Suwon keeps up the pressure, which eventually pays off, and they score two goals before the final whistle.

Honestly, I never thought that a single goal was going to be enough for Seoul to beat a team as strong as Suwon.

Seoul put up a good fight, but Suwon’s quality eventually shows.

The Long Walk Away

After the match, Seoul forms their usual huddle on the pitch while the Suwon players go to thank their supporters.

When the Seoul players finish, though, they grab their gear and walk off in dribs and drabs.

A few players wave to friends who have come to watch, but apart from that, they completely ignore the tiny group of travelling supporters.

And that is where the frustration from the previous match comes back.

I am still kind of pissed off about what happened then. I remember other occasions this season when something similar has happened too. I have spent much of this year travelling to matches, making plans around kick-off times, standing at bus stops, sitting through uncomfortable journeys and finding ways to make an entire day out of following Seoul. These are the things that create memories.

Now, the team does not owe me anything for that, but just the simple act of saying “Thank you for your support today.” means so much to fans.

I committed to supporting Seoul this season, and I intend to see that commitment through. This season has already become a much bigger story than simply whether Seoul wins or loses. It has become a story about following the team around Korea and seeing what happens along the way.

But commitment and support are a strange thing. We spend time and money to make the journeys, and we come back even when the team loses. The only thing that matters is that we enjoy ourselves.

What is harder to deal with is when the team does not seem to care whether or not we are in the stands. That starts eating away at the overall enjoyment.

Maybe I am expecting too much. Or maybe, by the end of the season, I will decide that I have done what I set out to do and choose a new team.

For now, though, I pack away the banner, leave the stadium and start the journey home, already checking when the next match will be.

26.15. So Much Suwon

Part 1

The rescheduled Round 8 match snuck up on me because I forgot to write the new date in my diary. It was postponed due to Suwon's involvement in the AFC Women's Champions League, and that is probably the reason Seoul was able to get their own match rescheduled in the previous round.

Since losing in the AFC semi-finals, Suwon have been beating up on WK League teams. I don't expect Seoul to have much of a chance tonight.

Despite the unexpected schedule change, Gogga joins me. I'm always happy when she comes along because we both get to relax outside the house. Gogga brings the beer; I arrange the food. United Man also made it tonight, and he brought snacks to thank us for sharing ours at the previous match. We are clearly well supplied and don't need to make a HomePlus run this evening.

This season, HomePlus has become a character in its own right in my match reports. Unfortunately, its fortunes have not improved. News reports say that the Seoul Bankruptcy Court has officially terminated HomePlus' corporate rehabilitation process. The company now has two weeks to appeal the decision and somehow come up with KRW 200 billion (about USD 130 million) in emergency operating funds. Around 100,000 workers are anxiously waiting to hear what happens next. It is not something you wish on anyone, especially with the difficult economic situation so many people around the world are facing.

Back to the stadium, another Seoul City Hall youth team is in the stands tonight. They are definitely older than the previous group, and I assume they are high school students.

That makes me wonder whether the club also has an elementary school team. The internet comes to the rescue, and indeed, there is an elementary school team. All three teams are based in northeast Seoul. Seoul Wuidong Elementary School is in Gangbuk-gu, right next to Nowon-gu. Insub Middle School and Dongsan Information Industry High School are located in Nowon-gu.

Seoul City Hall is the only club with such a complete development pathway. That is largely thanks to the city's size and population density. Most other WK League clubs have to rely on short-term partnerships with different schools. However, there is a push to make the WK League fully professional, and professionalism usually comes with stricter youth development requirements.

I also learned that Dongsan Information Industry High School is one of the traditional powerhouses of girls' football in Korea. Even Suwon captain and Korean legend Jo So-Yeon is a former student.

Like their younger counterparts, tonight's youth team seems to come with activation buttons. The moment someone starts a chant or cheer, they immediately join in without any hesitation. And even more than their younger counterparts, they watch the match closely. Unlike most spectators who blame the ref for everything, you can often hear them say things like "I guess the ref had a better view."

On the field, Ji So-Yeon is expected to retire at the end of the season, but judging by the way she has been playing over the last few weeks, she may end up changing her mind. She dominates the first half and is directly responsible for Suwon's opening goal.

She collects the ball near the halfway line, shrugs off three Seoul players, and drives towards goal. Looking up, she spots a teammate making a run into the penalty area and threads a perfectly weighted pass through the defence. The striker reaches it first and shoots. The goalkeeper gets a hand to the ball, but not enough to keep it out. Despite the light deflection the rolls over the line by the slimmest of margins.

Seoul seem overly defensive tonight, lining up with a back four that quickly turns into a back five whenever Suwon attack.

During the half-time break, I spot the former national team coach and go over to say hello. He is always friendly and happy to chat, but I don't want to take up too much of his time. Other people want to speak to him as well, and he probably wants to enjoy the football, so I leave after a bit of small talk.

As I return to my seat, I notice one of the Suwon coaches walking towards the dressing room. Koreans are not exactly famous for luxurious beards. Most men seem to have about fifteen facial hairs in total, and many probably don't know which side of a razor is the sharp one. I exaggerate, of course, but a thick beard like that coach's is genuinely rare here. I have something that vaguely resembles a beard, but it is nowhere near thick enough to qualify as a good one. I have to admit I feel a little envious.

I also notice some interesting weather conditions. It is humid this evening, but thankfully not too hot. The weather creates a light mist that hangs over the pitch at the start of the second half. It is with that cloud still floating over the field that Suwon score their second goal.

A corner is curled into the penalty area, and the goalkeeper catches it cleanly. Unfortunately, she catches it while moving backwards and carries the ball over the goal line. She quickly pushes it back out, but it is too late. The assistant referee has a clear view and immediately signals that the whole ball crossed the line.

What follows are some animated protests about pushing, although nobody appears to have touched the goalkeeper, leaving everyone around us thoroughly confused. The complaints become so heated that the Seoul bench receives its second yellow card of the evening. After watching the replay on my phone, I can only assume they are arguing that one of their defenders was pushed and therefore unable to challenge for the header. Honestly, I don't think she would have reached the ball either way.

The rest of the second half follows much the same pattern. Suwon string together accurate passes with confidence, while Seoul work incredibly hard but achieve very little. Whenever Suwon have possession, they almost always find runners with well-weighted, accurate passes. Seoul, on the other hand, often seem to pass simply for the sake of passing. More often than not, the ball is played to teammates already surrounded by Suwon defenders or into empty space where a Suwon player arrives first.

Sometime during the second half, Suwon add a third goal, but for me the bigger story is that Seoul are finally able to use a full set of substitutes again. It has been quite a while since they have had enough healthy players to make tactical changes late in a match. The fresh legs make little difference, though, and the game finishes with Seoul unable to score.

As we leave the stadium, we bump into an old acquaintance. He tells me, "I come to one or two matches every season. Last year Seoul were decent, but this year they're dog s*** again."

It may be a little harsh, but it is not far from the truth. Thankfully, my main reason for supporting this team has always been their fighting spirit rather than their winning record.

Part 2

Suwon had a midweek match against fellow league challengers Hwacheon. That was good news for Seoul because hopefully it took a bit out of the legs of the Suwon players. Even so, I still do not have high expectations for tonight.

Before the match, I head into the main stadium to find something to eat. That is where our extra character, HomePlus, is located. The deadline for their appeal is early next week, and it seems they have accepted the inevitable. Everything in the store is discounted by as much as 50%. Their already inexpensive house brand is now even cheaper, and news reports say people are arriving with shopping baskets and stripping entire shelves of single products like avocado oil.

It is going to be a stressful time for the employees, many of whom may soon be out of work. There is nothing I can do to change their fortunes, and all I can do is carry on with my own life.

At the stadium, a few fans have already arrived by the time I get there. Among them are several Suwon supporters. They are not the singing supporters, but the quieter type, much like myself. One woman is wearing Suwon's AFC Women's Champions League shirt. She looks as though she might be Brazilian, and I cannot help but wonder whether the shirt was a gift from Suwon's Brazilian player. It's wild speculation, though, because I'm afraid of offending her by asking, "Hey! You look Brazilian. Are you friends with Milena (Barreto de Oliveira)?"

Another supporter is wearing an away shirt covered in player signatures. I really envy Suwon fans. They can actually buy merchandise, and their players seem more than happy to interact with supporters. It's something I desperately wish Seoul had. Having said that, I am sure Seoul's players would also happily sign an autograph book, but a signed shirt is something special.

Soon enough, it's time for the players to line up for the usual pre-match handshakes, and something immediately catches my eye. Kim Min-Ji is wearing mostly red. It is essentially the normal team kit with the colours reversed, and there is no goalkeeper in yellow in the line-up.

Wait... Kim Min-Ji? The team's star midfielder is playing in goal? Is she even trained for this? This is going to be an interesting match.

Suwon is not without their visual interest either. In fact, they are visually one of the most interesting teams in the WK League. Last season, their Milena wore the normal short, fairly tight shorts that are common in the European and American leagues. It even caused a small controversy when one YouTuber blurred her shorts whenever she appeared in his videos.

There was nothing wrong with her shorts, other than that it was different from what almost every other player wore. In East Asia, at least, the fashion is to basically wear the same kit as the men. However, this season Suwon seems to be bucking this trend. While Milena's shorts are slightly longer and looser, other players have gone in the opposite direction, with shorts coming in various lengths and tightnesses.

Suwon's players are distinctive in other ways too. Both wingers are noticeably slender compared to most players in the league, yet neither backs away from a physical challenge. The left winger is also quite tall, and with her pace she becomes a dangerous target whenever Ji So-Yeon threads a pass into the penalty area.

Forward, Haruhi, dyes her hair a dark brown, and together with her build she constantly tricks my brain into thinking she is European. Even the way she runs feels different from what I have become used to seeing in East Asian football.

Ji So-Yeon is easy to recognise as well thanks to her broad headband. Little visual quirks like these make players easy to follow without even looking at their shirt numbers. That is not always the case, especially when watching matches on television.

For the opening twenty minutes, Suwon do not look nearly as dominant as they did last week. Seoul even give the impression that they might be able to fight for a point.

Then disaster strikes.

Seoul's defender, Bin Hyun-Ji, goes in for a tackle and catches the Suwon player on the knee. The injured player immediately cries out in pain. The referee first produces a yellow card, but while the medical staff are treating the player, the officials confer and upgrade it to a straight red.

Naturally, this leads to an animated confrontation between the Seoul coach and the referee. She is shouting loudly enough that I expect a booking at any moment, yet somehow she escapes without even a yellow card.

Meanwhile, I am sitting in the stands half-heartedly shouting, "My phone has VAR!" at the officials. I doubt they even hear me. The decision stands, and we all know Seoul's uphill battle has just become a mountain.

Despite being down to ten players, Seoul defend surprisingly well. About fifteen minutes later, however, Suwon score with a fairly soft finish that slips past the stand-in goalkeeper.

It is easy to say she should have done better, but how much can you expect from someone who is not even a recognised goalkeeper?

At some point during the first half, a mysterious voice begins shouting from the woods beside the stadium. All I can make out is a figure wearing what looks like a white plastic raincoat, half hidden among the trees. He looks like he has wandered straight out of a horror film.

His shouting is regularly interrupted by two men sitting in the front row watching baseball on a phone with the volume turned all the way up. Why come to a football match if you would rather watch baseball? Thankfully, they disappear during the half-time break.

The first half ends with Seoul trailing only 1-0.

The stands are fairly quiet during the break. The former national team coach is here again, so I walk over to say hello. We chat briefly about the red card and how it may have spoiled the match, but I also say I do not think it will affect the outcome of the match. He agrees and says this may be the weakest Seoul team he has ever seen. In his opinion, their biggest problem is the lack of dangerous strikers.

He is the expert, not me, so from now on I suppose my opinion is that Seoul need to strengthen their attack.

As the players return for the second half, the player who was sent off walks into the stands wearing her training kit and sits with who I assume is her family. Another player, probably injured, joins her.

I once saw two injured Incheon players sitting in the stands during a match. A group of young girls asked for autographs, and both players happily signed for them. I suspect most footballers are like that.

Which gives me an idea. I will try to make friends with the dog people, because they know the players well. Maybe they can help me get my banner signed by the team. For this, I will need much more than social baby steps.

During the second half, Suwon's control steadily grows, although Seoul continue to defend far better than I expected. They even manage a few promising attacks of their own.

The mysterious voice is still echoing from the woods, constantly reminding the Seoul players to concentrate. I still cannot understand why the man is standing out there when there are plenty of empty seats inside the stadium. At least his shouting is relevant to the football, unlike the unwanted live baseball commentary from earlier.

Seoul hold out until the 85th minute before the pressure finally tells. They concede two quick goals in succession, and what had looked like a respectable defeat quickly becomes another 3-0 loss.

It is not a goalkeeping performance anyone will remember, and the worrying news is that Seoul's first-choice goalkeeper is expected to miss another three weeks. For Kim Min-Ji's sake, I hope the second-choice keeper is fit by the next match. It is unfair to expect a midfielder to regularly perform one of the most specialised jobs on the pitch.

The next match is away to Incheon on Saturday. I am curious to see who turns up for that one, although I am fairly certain at least one of the dog owners will be there. "Greet them and speak a few words" is now on my TODO list.

---

Round 8 Results

Seoul City Hall Amazones 0-3 Suwon FC Women

Round 9 Results

Gangjin Swans 1-2 Mungyeong Sangmu
Hwacheon KSPO 1-2 Suwon FC Women

Round 15 Results

Seoul City Hall Amazones 0-3 Suwon FC Women
Sejong Sportstoto 0-1 Mungyeong Sangmu
Hwacheon KSPO 5-1 Gangjin Swans
Gyeongju KHNP 2-1 Incheon Hyunsai Steel Red Angels

League Standings

Team	Played	Points
1. Suwon	15	36
2. Hwacheon	13	28
3. Mungyeong	15	23
4. Incheon	14	21
5. Gyeongju	15	20
6. Sejong	15	17
7. Seoul	14	15
8. Gangjin	15	8

26.9 - AWCL Semi-Finals

I'd like to mention that this post may sound bitter. I grew up in a country and time where politics regularly interfered with sport. National teams were barred from competing internationally for 30 years, and after isolation, the government required teams of all levels to select based on skin colour. From a young age, I learned to dislike it whenever people with no real interest in sport use it to push unrelated agendas.

Political interest groups soured the semi-finals and finals of the AWCL for me. Maybe a few months from now, I will only remember sitting in the rain and watching a quality football match. Right now, though, I'm still frustrated and even angry at the groups who came to cheer for Naegohyang.

---

Rain was forecast for the entire day, and shortly after lunch, it arrived. It started as a light drizzle, but slowly it built into steady rain. Not quite enough to flood streets, but more than enough to wet you every time the wind changes direction.

In this weather, I leave work and head for Suwon Sports Complex, Castle Park. As usual, I arrive from the far side of the complex. Crossing the intersection, I spot the first sign of the event: a single pink-and-purple pillar standing quietly beside the road. It is so inconspicuous that most people probably walk straight past it without noticing. Considering the importance of the occasion, it feels strangely understated.

At the stadium itself, there are more signs that something major is happening, but only once you are practically standing on top of the venue.

I arrive to find crowds gathering on the east-side stairs. At first, the turnout feels encouraging, but then I notice the makeup of the crowd. The average age seems well over sixty. That is unusual for football in Korea, especially women’s football, and it's giving me a bad feeling.

A few months earlier, Suwon applied to host the semi-finals of the AWCL. They were granted the hosting rights, provided they reach that stage themselves. They did exactly that. The remaining teams come from the expected football nations: Japan, Australia, and North Korea. Interestingly, three of the four semi-finalists come from Group C.

Recent Asian tournaments have shown just how strong these countries currently are. Japan reached the final in every recent major Asian tournament. Australia reached the Asian Cup final, and North Korea won both the U17 and U20 Asian Cups.

Naegohyang FC itself is only ten years old. The name means “My Home Town” in Korean. The club enjoyed domestic success but never competed internationally. They were originally entered into last year’s AWCL but later withdrew. This season, they were allowed to continue and began with an 11–0 victory over Laos’ BIS Master FC. Later, they beat Suwon 3–0 in the group stage.

Tonight’s match is significant for more than football. It marks the first time in twelve years that a North Korean football team plays in South Korea, and the first visit by any North Korean sports team in eight years.

Naturally, various unification groups immediately showed interest.

Weeks before the match, news appeared that the government’s Unification Ministry and related organisations planned to organise a cheer squad. The idea was to support both teams equally and celebrate the idea that the two Koreas are “one people.”

To me, the whole thing feels absurd.

First, this is a sport. Teams compete to win. Football may entertain us, but for the players, it is often their career. Imagine attending Manchester United versus Manchester City and cheering for both sides because “we are all Mancunians.”

Second, North Korea itself has little interest in this symbolism. Their government openly rejects unification. Even if individual players feel differently, they are hardly free to express it publicly.

When tickets went on sale, the Unification Ministry and affiliated groups reportedly bought 7,000 tickets, without consulting or even informing the organisers. 7,000 individuals arriving at their own time is one thing, but you need to carefully manage a group of potentially thousands that arrive all at the same time.

It is important to note that Naegohyang brought no supporters of their own. The only visa applications from North Korea were for players and staff. Rumours circulated that North Korean supporters may attend the final if they qualify, but it never went beyond rumour.

I join the crowd and slowly make my way toward the gate, where two women in their twenties struggle to check tickets against the pressing queue. Korea remains a highly hierarchical society where age still shapes many social interactions. I can only imagine the stress of having to hold back impatient men old enough to be their grandfathers. Thankfully, I see no arguments.

Inside, it is just as crowded. Many people wait until the last possible moment before taking their seats in the rain. Plenty carry small snack bags and two flags — one for each team. I assume these are members of the organised cheer groups.

I would love to get hold of one of those Naegohyang flags myself, but sadly, none appear abandoned on the ground waiting to be “rescued.”

Not wanting to remain trapped in the crowd, I quickly put on my raincoat and head for my seat. I reserved a front-row seat near the halfway line, so my view tonight is excellent. At a stadium with a running track, you really cannot get much closer.

The endless rain has created a shallow lake around my feet, helped by a banner covering a drainage outlet nearby. More about this banner later.

The spectators around me seem unreasonably excited. I have attended plenty of major matches in Korea — FA Cup finals, AFC Champions League finals, even a match between the North and South Korean senior teams — and the average spectator rarely gets this excited before kickoff.

To my right stand the cheerleaders dressed in white, accompanied by drummers who appear to be volunteers. Considering the amount of money reportedly involved in organising this spectacle, I expect something more impressive. The “cheer squad” itself mostly consists of the people scattered in the surrounding seats.

In the away section, the regular Suwon supporters are gathered in larger numbers than usual. This is clearly a bigger occasion than a normal WK League match, and many supporters who usually only follow the men’s side seem to have joined singing and chanting.

Despite all this, the reported attendance is only 5,763. How many of those open seats belong to "cheer squad" members who could not be bothered to come claim their free seat? How many people wanted to be here but could not come because tickets were "sold out"

As kickoff approaches, a QR code appears on the stadium screen for anyone wanting to see the line-ups. That is certainly one way of doing things.

Soon, the players and referees emerge onto the pitch. Suwon wear their AWCL kit rather than their usual WK League strip. The colours are similar, but the stripes are broader, and the gold names and numbers look impressive.

Naegohyang wears white with dark trim.

One thing immediately catches my attention during the pre-match shouts. The Suwon players sound exactly as you would expect adult women to sound. The Naegohyang players, meanwhile, sound almost like schoolgirls. Maybe it is a coincidence, but it stands out immediately.

Once the game begins, Suwon quickly take control through possession football and creates several promising attacks. Naegohyang spend much of the opening period defending, but they never look overwhelmed. Teams do not reach AWCL semi-finals by accident.

The supporters begin their chants almost immediately. The Suwon fans do what they always do: sing continuously through their prepared list of songs and chants. They may not match the famous noise of their neighbours, the Suwon Bluewings, but they perform admirably in the pouring rain.

Around me, however, the organised “neutral” cheer squad seems far less neutral. Their chants are basic school-style chants repeated endlessly. At one point, the cheerleaders even begin the familiar “Oh Pilseung Korea” national-team chant.

The irony is that North Korea does not even call itself “Korea.” It calls itself Joseon.

More importantly, they are clearly not supporting both teams equally. I hear Suwon’s name maybe once all evening.

Next to me is a woman who seems to be at her first-ever football match. She speaks loudly enough for several rows to hear her, and occasionally, for no apparent reason, shouts “Naegohyang, Hal Haeseo!” (Naegohyang, Hal Haeseo!). She does this even when Suwon has the ball and is on the attack. She also repeatedly asks which number Ji So-Yeon is wearing.

Ji So-Yeon is a Suwon player, a former Chelsea star, and a Korean football legend. The woman beside me clearly has little idea what is happening on the pitch. She recognises one famous player and spends the evening cheering for the North Korean side.

It is very obvious why many people are here, and it is not for football.

The first half ends scoreless.

At halftime, many people flee the rain and disappear into cover. I stay seated to avoid the crush. While waiting, I watch two men struggle to reposition the banner covering the drain near my feet. They do not seem to understand how wind works. Every time they fix one side, the other side blows back over the railings. Eventually, they succeed and leave.

When the second half begins, many of the empty seats remain empty. Quite a few people apparently came for one half, collected their free gifts, and left once boredom set in.

The men who fixed the banner also never returned. About five minutes into the half, a stadium staff member arrives to crouch beside it, then speaks on the phone, and removes the banner completely. I later learned that several political banners were displayed in our section during the match.

One of the men responsible sat a few seats away from me. During the first half, every time the North Korean coach appeared on the stadium screen, he shouted and swore at him in Korean.

After the match, more stories emerge. Suwon’s manager later says the game felt like an away match. The two teams were originally supposed to stay in the same hotel, but Naegohyang objected at the last minute, forcing Suwon to change accommodations.

Early in the second half, Suwon finally scores. It is a fortunate goal, but also a deserved one. Almost immediately, though, the momentum shifts completely.

I lack the tactical understanding to explain exactly what changed. Either Suwon become too cautious trying to protect their lead, or Naegohyang suddenly wake up fully. Whatever the reason, the North Korean side began dominating the match.

By full time, Nogoyang had scored twice, both goals coming from Suwon mistakes created under heavy pressure.

The win sends Naegohyang into the final against Japan’s Tokyo Verdy. Remarkably, this becomes the third major Asian women’s tournament final in recent months featuring Japan against North Korea. North Korea won the previous two.

Suwon nearly equalised in the losing minutes of the match after winning a penalty. Captain Ji So-Yeon steps up but sends the shot wide. It is a terrible miss, but football would lose its magic if everything always happened exactly as expected.

The final whistle produces what may become my favourite image of the season. In the foreground, Naegohyang players celebrate wildly together. Behind them, a lone Suwon player collapses onto her hands and knees in exhaustion and heartbreak.

Knockout football always creates dramatic contrasts between victory and defeat, but late-stage tournaments produce emotions on another level entirely.

Several Suwon players are crying openly. Ayaka Nishikawa drops to her knees and remains motionless until a teammate comes to comfort her. Ji So-Yeon, possibly playing her final season of football, sobs uncontrollably. Even minutes later, while thanking the supporters, she is still crying.

26.2. Storming The Castle

After weeks of wondering when they would announce the fixtures, and weeks of watching the other leagues play their first round, and second round, and third, fourth, and fifth, it's time for the WK League season to kick off. And today is the first day of my new adventure. I'm off to Suwon to see if the Amazones can storm the Castle (Park).

Suwon FC Women is operated by Suwon FC, a professional K League 2 team. They wear the same uniforms,  share social media accounts, and, importantly, they play at the same stadium, a stadium that is relatively easy for me to reach. It's so easy, in fact, that I'll attend even the mid-week matches here.

Unlike the K4 teams I visited during the 2025 season, Suwon's Castle Park is located in a highly populated area with restaurants and even a HomePlus nearby. Castle Park, Suwon's home field, is located within the Suwon Sports Complex, which also hosts the KT Wiz baseball team, KEPCO Vixtorm men's volleyball team, and Hyundai E&C Hillstale women's volleyball team. There aren't many sports complexes in Korea that host multiple professional teams, let alone 4 (and a half, since Suwon FC Women are technically semi-professional)

I've been to the complex multiple times, and although I've watched all the sports on offer over the years, I've watched Suwon FC Women more than even the men's team. I know the area well and have no problem finding lunch and picking up snacks before the match. In the HomePlus food court, I order jjajangmyeon, Korea's favourite dish in terms of plates consumed. While eating, I observe the people around me. Elderly couples are eating tteok with coffee, families are eating bowls of noodles and shared plates of deep-fried pork. Patrons of other restaurants are scattered throughout the food court. The children are surprisingly quiet with no fights or parents shouting at them. It's a pleasant start to the day.

With lunch done, I head over to the stadium. I have some time to go to HomePlus first, but I'm not sure what the security situation will be like, and I don't want to be forced to drink a bottle of Nurin Maeul makgeolli before I'm allowed to enter the stadium. Just because I like makgeolli does not mean I want to be drunk at a football match. My bottled water will have to suffice.

To reach the football stadium, I must pass the baseball stadium. It appears there will be a match today because a handful of people are standing around, some waiting for the team shop to open, some watching the players warm up through a gate, and some having lunch on picnic blankets in the shade of the stadium. It's early spring, and the weather is great for a picnic. I envy them, but I have a football match to get to.

I know the ticket office entrance is on the far side of the complex, but I can't help but feel uncomfortable at the lack of people around the stadium. The only people I see are baseball fans walking around wasting time. Please don't let me be here on the wrong day, not again. But as I get closer to the ticket booth, things start to look brighter. I'm not the only one here! I, and a woman out for her daily run, are making our way towards other people. She is running so slowly that my relaxed walk is keeping up with her. I have to slow down a bit to make sure I don't walk into her. It's odd, but at least she is doing something other than sitting in front of a TV, and you can't fault her for that, right?

At the ticket office, they hand me a ticket without saying a word. Apparently, entrance is free today, which surprises me because the last time I was here, I had to pay. Sure, it was when Suwon was playing in the championship play-off, but I'm still surprised. I take my ticket and head to the new club shop. As I was making my way around the stadium, I passed the old club shop and thought it was closed for the day. However, it seems they just relocated and upgraded it. These are the kind of things you get when your team is connected to a professional team, a fully functioning club shop.

I enter the shop to waste a few minutes looking at Suwon's 2026 season uniforms, the team merch and the mini footballs. Some footballs are signed by the women's team and some by the men's team. It doesn't take me long to find a Min-Ji's signature. I have a personal theory that if you throw a rock into a crowd of Koreans, you will hit at least one Min-Ji. The name is so common that both Suwon and Seoul have a Min-Ji on their roster.

Side note, I checked, and here are the Min-Jies in the WK League:

Gangjin: None

Gyeongju: None

Hwacheon: 5 Min-Something, but no Min-Ji :(

Incheon: Jo Mi-Jin, so close!

Mungyeong: None

Sejong: Yun Min-Ji

Suwon: Jeon Min-Ji

Seoul: Kim Min-ji

Well, if you ignore the first five teams, then every team in the WK League has a Min-Ji, right?

With a Suwon emblem pin and ticket in hand, I make my way to the entrance, where I'm met with a cluster of people staring at their phones before showing QR codes to a reader. There is a poster with a QR code on it, and the translation says I need to scan the QR code to get a QR code to be allowed to enter. I don't understand why, but that is normal for me, and I do what I must to be allowed to go up the ramp to the entrance. At the top of the ramp, my ticket is checked, the stub is torn off, and I'm handed a Suwon flag. I don't need a flag, but it's a nice souvenir, which would have been nice to know about before I bought something. Oh well.

Just past the entrance is a small shop for snacks and drinks. They have a wall of instant noodles, some crisps, drinks and beer. It's interesting to see how easy it is to find alcohol free beer these days. I will have to come back for one of those during halftime. I know I wanted to bring in makgeolli, but if I can't have that, I'm happy with a 0% beer.

Today, only the main stand and food trucks parked just to the side of the playing field are available to spectators. On the Seoul side, there are a surprising number of people, I'm guessing 50 at least, and during the match, that would increase to about 100. It might seem like an insignificant number, but it's not bad for travelling support in this league. On the Suwon side, there are, at the very least, 500 people. Surprisingly, the official number on the joinKFA site claims 136 spectators. How is it possible they can get it so wrong when everyone had to check in with a QR code? (Edit: News sources mention 901 spectators)

I make myself comfortable and look around. It's a windy day, and flags with the faces of the players are flapping loudly on the walls of the stadium. On the railings, a few rows in front of me, hang about eight shirts, all of the same player. The shirts are from three different teams, but I assume from different seasons. None of the shirts is for Seoul, though. I go over to take a photo and find out which player's shirts they are, and the man sitting behind them tells me they are of number 27, Ee Chae-Yun, a new player at Seoul. She is a defender, 39 years old, and has played for almost every team in the league over the years. Kudos to her for still being good enough to get a contract at her age.

Before the match starts, there is a ceremony for a player named Ee Eun-Mi. It seems she retired and is being honoured for her time with the club.

Off to the side of the main group of spectators is a man behind an umbrella. It's odd because the umbrella is pointing away from the sun. It's almost as if he is trying to hide. He spent most of the match shouting/arguing at the players. Strangest of all, his loudest outbursts came while players were setting up for set pieces, when nothing was happening. I wish I could understand what he is saying, but I suspect no one around me understands either.

The match itself is rather ch
aotic and particularly good. Neither team seems to have a clear plan, and too many players try to be fancy for no reason, at the worst times. For instance, one Suwon player tries a no-look back pass, no teammate within 10 metres of her, and Seoul players in front and behind her. But overall, Suwon is just a bit better. When they have chances, they take them, giving them a 2-0 lead. Seoul has a few moments, and the match could have been very different had the ball just dipped a centimetre lower or to the side, but this is part of the game. Sometimes it goes your way, and sometimes it doesn't. All you can do is "improve your luck" by playing better.

The match ended 2-1, a good result for Suwon, who seems to be in decent form for their upcoming AFC matches. Seoul has nothing to be ashamed of. It is their first match of the season, and I'm sure they will get better as they get match fit and their skill sharpen up again.

In the past, when I went to watch matches involving Seoul, I was always annoyed when they formed a circle after the match and stood there rather than thanking the fans who came out to support them. I would walk away wondering why their fans put up with that nonsense. But today I decided to wait until the players leave the field. I also notice that some of the fans are gathering near the railings as if they expect the players to come over. They don't, and in the meantime, the Suwon players are on the other side singing with their fans. But I stay because this is part of the adventure, and I have to be sure. Then it happens...the players break their circle and walk over to the fans for a bow of appreciation. They are not the barbarians after all. Some players even come up to the railing to talk to family and friends. This is good. This means I'm not following the most ill-mannered team in Korea this season.

After the match, I have to pass the baseball stadium again to get to my preferred bus stop, and I'm amazed by all the people. The Samsung Lions, a team based in Daegu, has hundreds of people already queuing to get in, and more are arriving. Looking at the broadcast when I arrive home, it seems like the stadium is mostly full, meaning there must be at least 15,000 people. It makes me sad that they have thousands watching this silly stickball game, while we had only hundreds for our clearly superior sport. (I'm joking. I may not like baseball, but I like cricket, so I'm in no position to point fingers at stickball spectators.)

All in all, it was an enjoyable and relaxing day, and I hope the rest of my season can go this smoothly.

*****

2026.04.04 - Suwon FC Women 2:1 Seoul City Hall Amazones WFC

26.1 Mission 2026 - The Amazones

 

Where Do We Go?

The phrase from Sweet Child o'Mine is repeating in my head as I consider the coming season. My original plan for the 2025 season was to follow Seoul Nowon United FC to attend every home game and as many away games as I could manage. That plan was waylaid when the club decided to cease operating just weeks before the start of the season. I moped for a few days about my adventure ending before it even started, and then came up with a new plan. I would visit as many K4 League grounds as I can manage.

Travelling the country was more difficult than I originally thought. Public transport from a city without a bus terminal eats up hours of my day, and the knock-on effect means I need to stay overnight at locations that are harder to reach. I don't like staying overnight. I like sleeping in my own bed, on my own pillow, with my wife next to me and a cat on top of me. I travelled to various semi-professional clubs based in the Northern half of the country. But as much fun as it was seeing all these new teams and locations, I missed having a specific team to cheer for. Without a team, I never developed a comfortable match day routine, and I didn't really get to know any players or teams. I hope to change that for the 2026 season.

This season, I want to follow a single team. My closest team is FC Anyang, with Suwon FC and Seoul E-Land slightly further away. FC Anyang is a single bus and a short walk away, while the other two are slightly annoying to get to. Then there is FC Seoul, a team for which I have held season tickets in the past and still buy home shirts from time to time. But all of these teams are professional, and I have a soft spot for amateur and semi-professional teams. There is just something about players doing it for the love of the game, and not because it's their job. I'm not implying professionals don't play for the love, but their rewards are quantifiable and often substantial. Semi-professional players often have day jobs, and their immediate rewards are more personal and less financial.

Who Then?

Officially called Seoul City Hall Amazones Women's Football Club, I'm sure you will forgive me if I just refer to them as Seoul or the Amazones. The club was founded in 1976 and saw success in domestic tournaments in its first decade, but since then, there has been little change to the trophy cabinet. The Amazones are one of the founding members of the WK League, Korea's semi-professional women's league. Historically, they are a mid-table team and finished runners-up only twice. As their name suggests, the team is based in Seoul. They've been at various stadiums over the years, but since 2022, they've called Seoul World Cup Stadium Auxiliary Field their home.

I first learned of their existence sometime in the mid-2010s, when they were still playing at Hyochang Stadium and wearing the same uniform as FC Seoul. Despite the uniform, there was no direct connection between the two teams. FC Seoul is owned by the GS group, and the Amazones are operated by Seoul City. The Amazones now wear a dark blue shirt with red, white and blue stripes down the middle. Their club crest is the symbol of Seoul, something resembling a person waving their arms.

The Team

The 2026 squad is significantly different from the 2025 squad. All 4 midfield players, as well as the goalkeeper wearing the number 1 shirt, have moved on or retired. As with the K4 League teams, I never got to know the players, and I don't know how important the players were to the team, but surely replacing your whole midfield will have an impact.

Finding specific information about the team is not always easy. They released their full squat and match schedule via Instagram just two weeks before the start of the season. To be fair to them, the official KFA channels took even longer to release fixtures, and they were not even the last team to post their squad.

As mentioned, I don't know the players well, but I hope following a single team will remedy that this season. One new arrival I definitely know is national team regular Kim Jeong-Mi. I have no idea why she left the Red Angels to come to Seoul. She must be nearing the end of her playing career, so it's possible that she was not offered a new contract. I'll do my best to find out as the season develops by shouting questions at her from the stands.

No! Don't do that! Shouting anything other than encouragement at players, or pointing out their dick behaviour, is creepy. Don't abuse players. Don't tell them you love them and want them to have your children. Don't threaten them or their families. Just chill, enjoy the match, and support the team, or both teams if that is your thing.

Sources

During the 2026 season, matches were streamed on YouTube at the Korean Women's Football Federation's own channel. It's always nice to have free and on-demand access to all the matches.

News directly from the team can be found on their Instagram feed, and basic information about the squad is available on Seoul City's official sports page.

Wider news about the league, in English, can be found at WK League News with shorter posts on their Instagram feed. WK Log provides information in Korean, and Bless Football Diary often posts photos from various matches.

Lastly, there are Naver Cafes. I'm still learning how to use them, but I've found useful information on Into the K and WMFootball.