Trail of the Lion King

Nine months earlier I’d watched Jeonbuk kick off their K-League campaign with a home defeat to Chunnam Dragons. At that time it looked as if they might be in for a tough season but it didn‘t work out that way. They’ve been the best team by far in Korea this year and had been unlucky to lose the Champions League final to Al Sadd a month earlier.

The way the Korean League works is that the top six teams at the end of the season have a series of play-offs to determine the champions. Jeonbuk finished top of the table and so went straight into the two-legged final. Ulsan finished sixth and therefore had to get past Seoul, Suwon and Pohang to earn their game with Jeonbuk. The teams had met earlier in the week at Ulsan’s Munsu Stadium where a couple of goals from Eninho had given Jeonbuk a 2-1 lead to bring into the second leg.

Jen had caught an earlier train back to Seoul to avoid frostbite and so I was at this one by myself. I bought a ticket for ten thousand won and got myself some cans of Hite. It wasn’t really the weather for drinking beer but with it being the last game of the season it seemed a bit late to change my regular matchday routine.

I took a seat in the east stand, close to the half-way line. There was quite a party atmosphere with food and drink stalls in the concourse and kids competing for prizes by scoring into an oversized inflatable goal. As the teams were announced Lee Dong Gook got the biggest cheer from the home supporters.

Not quite as popular as scoring in an inflatable goal.

Jeonbuk were on top in the early stages with Luiz breaking up the Ulsan play whenever they looked threatening. After twenty-five minutes Lee Dong Gook was brought down just inside the box. He took the  penalty himself and if he had scored it would surely have been game over. The Ulsan keeper dived to his left though and made a decent save to keep his side in it.

Not quite.

We got to half-time without any further incident and as there were big queues for beer I nipped out of the main entrance and bought a couple of cans from a granny outside. I didn’t need a ‘pass out’ and nobody questioned me as I walked back in. It seemed that if you couldn’t afford the ten thousand won ticket price (£5.50), then you could just turn up at half time and watch the second half for free. I’m not sure if it’s officially condoned but I like it. I remember that when the Holgate gates opened ten minutes before the end of matches to let out those who liked to ‘beat the traffic’ there were always kids waiting to come in for the closing stages, a whole second half for free would have been fantastic.

Ten minutes into the second half Ulsan scored. That made the aggregate score two each, but I had no idea what the story was with away goals. I did wonder at that point if Jeonbuk were going to finish the season with nothing. Fortunately for the home side they quickly got the opportunity to restore their advantage when they were awarded their second penalty of the game. Once again Lee Dong Gook picked the ball up, but on this occasion Eninho went over and had a quiet word before taking it off him and calmly slotting home to put Jeonbuk 3-2 ahead on aggregate.

The Jeonbuk fans celebrate Eninho taking the ball from Lee Dong Gook.

Another ten minutes on and it was all over. Luiz picked up the ball on the right and turned two players before crashing the ball home at the keeper’s near post. It was a fantastic strike and I was up on my feet celebrating with the rest of the supporters. Well, those that weren’t from Ulsan anyway. Luiz was booked for taking his shirt off, but if there was ever a goal that you had a right to celebrate in whatever way you fancied then that was it.

Jeonbuk just ran the clock out in the last twenty minutes, Lee Dong Gook getting a great reception as he made his way to the bench five minutes from time. The crowd was announced as thirty-three thousand, but I’d have estimated it as maybe twenty-two thousand or so. Whilst the East and North stands were pretty full, the West and South were probably only at ten per cent of their capacity.

The Lion King awaits the final whistle.

I hung about for the fireworks and initial celebrations but got away before the trophy presentation as I had a train to catch. A few days later Lee Dong Gook was announced as the K-League MVP for 2011. Together with his Asian Champions League MVP award and his recall to the national team it had been a pretty good season for him again.

It had been a good season for me too. I had watched thirty-three games in Korea at twenty-three different grounds, ranging from internationals to local games between blokes who looked in worse shape than I am. With the game I saw in Hong Kong and the seven in England that’s just one short of a full traditional forty-two match season. Or exactly right for a season’s total when you don’t turn up for Blackburn away after being misled by the Premier League. I’m not still bitter about the three points, honest.

And on that cheery note I’ll wish anyone who stumbles across the blog a Happy New Year. I’m looking forward to a bit of basketball and sub-zero temperature hiking in the weeks until the 2012 fixtures are published and I can start planning next season’s football trips.

I probably would have missed this game if I hadn’t seen it advertised on a banner near to where I live a couple of weeks earlier. It was under twenty-three level and a qualifier for the London Olympics.  I took the tube to the Sangam Stadium and paid one of the granny touts the ten thousand won face value price for a ticket as I left the station.

Usually in Korea you can take whatever you fancy into a stadium. At one match that I attended here earlier in the year people had shopping trolleys full of beer that they had just walked in with. Today though, there was a clampdown at the gates and the security staff were confiscating items as if we were boarding a flight rather than going into a football game.

They were quite considerate in the way they went about it, attaching a numbered label to each item so that it could be re-claimed after the game. Quite how many people would go back for a bottle of Gatorade I’m not sure, but as I watched the footballs, flags and vuvuzelas piling up it reminded me of a tombola stall at a particularly crap Summer Fete.

Roll up, win a second-hand football.

Maybe some of the people planning to attend had turned around and gone home in a huff when faced with the prospect of being parted from their picnic basket, as the crowd seemed smaller than normal for an international match. Maybe it was only my street that had an advertising banner. I was in the east stand where the lower section was about two-thirds full, whilst the north stand lower had roughly half its seats occupied. Everywhere else was virtually empty. I’d estimate that there were about twelve thousand people there in total, with the official figure of twenty-seven thousand being a somewhat wild exaggeration.

I was surprised that hardly any of the crowd stood for the Saudi national anthem, despite being requested to by the announcer. A little childishly I showed my disapproval at the lack of respect by sitting down when the Korean ditty was played. I resisted the urge to accompany it with that underarm farting noise though.

The Saudis were in all green with Korea in traditional red and white. It was a fairly open game and the home keeper made a couple of good stops early on. After twenty-five minutes the Koreans thought that they had taken the lead when the ball was headed across the face of the goal, then onto the bar before eventually being bundled home. The flag was up though, so the celebrations from the home fans were in vain.

How did he get that past security?

There were a couple of kids a few rows down from me, maybe five or six years old and I doubt that they or their mothers saw any of the game. The mothers chose to sit in the two seats directly in front of their offspring, so it’s unlikely that the kids would have been able to watch much of the action even if they had wanted to and unless the women had eyes in the backs of their heads then they won’t have seen anything either. They spent the entire time facing their children and hand feeding them. It was like watching birds passing worms to their chicks. If they had chewed the food for them before handing it over I wouldn’t have been surprised.

During the feeding session they were missing Cho Young Cheol being pretty influential for Korea, with most of his teams best moves coming through him on the left-wing.

That's him, in the red.

Korea took the lead after half an hour when they won a penalty for what looked like it might have been holding at a corner. It’s not often that those are given so I suppose the Saudis could consider themselves a little unlucky. And whilst the Mothers were moving on to sticking funnels in their kids mouths and force feeding them fois gras style, Cho Young Cheol sent the keeper the wrong way to make it one-nil.

Korea takes the lead.

At half time I moved to the south stand for a change of scenery and was asked by a Korean couple if I was an Arab. When I replied that I wasn’t, they didn’t seem inclined to believe me and told me that I looked like an Arab. I was tempted to ask them if they were Haruki Murakami and the Dowager Empress of Japan, but I didn’t. I’d have thought the can of Hite in my hand might have been sufficient to cast doubts on any Arabian heritage.

The south stand.

The second half was fairly even with Korea having a few chances and Saudi Arabia putting a bit of pressure on towards the end. They could have had a penalty when one of their blokes was nudged off the ball after a mazy run into the box. The highlight of the second half though was probably the appearance of a player with a mask on. I  didn’t  recognise him, but I suppose that’s the whole point of wearing a disguise. Perhaps he was supposed to be suspended. Or maybe he’d been out robbing a bank.

Who was that masked man?

Korea held on for the victory which takes them close to qualification for the London Olympics. I reclaimed my camel from the entrance gate and trotted off home.

The previous day had been fairly warm in Ulsan and I’d hiked in Gajisan Provincial Park in shorts. Today though, it was absolutely freezing. So much so that Jen and I had to go and buy warm clothes from a local department store. I rarely bother going shopping in Korea. Actually I rarely bother going shopping anywhere, but in Korea there just aren’t that many items of clothing that will fit me. Shoes are a waste of time, shop assistants just laugh when I tell them the size. I’ve never seen any trousers that would fit me either. On this occasion though I got away with a tightly fitting zip up hoodie and a thermal vest. Luckily my head and hands are a similar size to those of the locals and so I could get a hat and some gloves. Even so, I was still feeling the chill despite the extra layers.

We were braving the cold so that we could see the second leg of the National League Play-off final between Ulsan Mipo and Goyang KB. It wasn’t due to start until four in the afternoon though and so after my annual visit to the shops we took a taxi to Jangsaengpo where there is a whale museum. Ulsan used to be the main location for the whaling industry in Korea, so it seemed as good a place as anywhere to spend an hour or two. Especially as it was indoors.

We’d taken that long getting kitted out in our new clobber that it was lunchtime by the time we arrived at Jangsaengpo. On the opposite side of the road to the museum there are a dozen or so restaurants that specialise in whale meat. That seems a bit strange, with commercial whaling being banned but whilst it is illegal to intentionally catch whales, it’s apparently hunky dory if you don’t really mean to catch one. If, say, a Blue Whale or two accidentally take your bait whilst you are fishing for mackerel or if you happen to trip over one on the beach whilst you are walking your dog, then that’s fine. There must be an awful lot of surprise catches or early morning discoveries at low tide though to keep that many restaurants in business.

Just like the Wetherby Whaler, except they don't do chips. Or fish.

We picked a place to eat on the basis that it had chairs and ordered some sort of set menu. To start with we got some cold thinly sliced cooked whale meat. It had the texture of beef and wasn’t too dissimilar in appearance. Apart, that is from the inch wide layer of blubber and the thick skin on the edge.

The skin was a bit chewy.

We also got some strips of raw whale meat, served with apple. It was just standard sort of sushi stuff really, you wouldn’t have known it was whale if it hadn’t been for the photos in the restaurant  window of a couple of Minkes on the deck of a boat with their throats cut. It tasted pretty good though.

I did wonder just how big their fridge must be.

Next we got some spicy whale soup that was just like any other spicy soup over here. If they had fobbed us off with pieces of shark or dolphin, I wouldn’t have been any the wiser. After that we had some lumps of hot meat, but I found it harder work with too much fat. It looked like beef but had a mild fishy taste. Not surprising I suppose. I was fairly full by then so it was no hardship to limit myself to eating only the best bits.

Fourth course.

After lunch we had a look around the whaling museum where there were some interesting old photos and plenty of skeletons. The whole tone of the place seemed to be ‘Whale watching is good, but proper whaling is better’.

At around three o’clock we got a taxi to Ulsan Mipo’s ground. It’s over in the east of the city and quite handy for the bus stations and the Jangsaengpo whale restaurants. We decided that we would sit in the sun as it  meant the difference between mild and severe frostbite. Before we took our seats we had a walk around the outside of the stadium and then I took a stroll through the main entrance and joined the pre-match pitch inspection. The players were as well wrapped up as we were and I suspect that those who had been named as subs wouldn’t have been too upset about it.

No white Spice Boy suits for these lads.

It was a decent turnout for a National League game, albeit the final one of the season. I’d estimate that there were around five hundred spectators there, including forty or so from Goyang, most of them seeking out the last of the sunshine in the stand that we were in.

I think that Jen and I were the only people who had eaten before the match as everyone else was stuffing their face all the way through the game. One bloke had his back to the game for most of the first half as he demolished the box of food on the seat behind him. It’s as if the game just provides an excuse for a picnic.

The alternative to eating a whale before you set off.

The game was finely poised at one all after the first leg. Neither Ulsan in blue or Goyang in yellow settled well and it was a scrappy opening half hour with the players on both sides making frequent mistakes.

Sometimes it got a little congested.

Ulsan took the lead in the thirty-third minute when a cross from the right was swept home by Kim Hyo Gi. They held on until the interval, as did Jen. At that point though she called it a day and cleared off to a nearby supermarket before her eyeballs froze solid. I braved the second half from the opposite stand, the move being as much about getting my circulation going as the change of scenery.

The view from the other side

Goyang had the odd chance after the break, but Ulsan were definitely the better team and they could have made the game safe with better finishing or less inspired keeping from the visiting goalie. There were no more goals though and Ulsan took the championship two-one on aggregate.

The Ulsan subs celebrate getting through ninety minutes with their coats on.

I stayed for the fireworks and the presentations, making my way down to the side of the pitch and joining the press photographers. I think I may have been the only person without a two foot long lens of the front of my camera. As we were only stood about five yards from the celebrations I don’t think it made too much of a difference.

It was time to play that Queen song.

That’s it then for the National League. I’ve seen a bit more of it this year than last and have enjoyed watching the season unfold. It’s a reasonable standard, you generally get in for free and there are usually a few hundred fans at most games who will generate a decent atmosphere. 

In addition to getting whale meat for lunch before this game, other highlights of Korea’s second tier league have included a plague of frogs in the toilets at Changwon and getting to take a shot at goal from the centre circle during half time at Goyang. Hopefully next season will bring more of the same.

Now that I’ve started posting about empty stadiums, there may be no stopping me. This one is Jeonju Stadium, the former home of Jeonbuk Motors until they moved to the World Cup Stadium and before that Jeonbuk Buffalo and Jeonbuk Dinos.

View to the left.

The ground is next door to the baseball stadium and about five minutes walk from the bus station. Once again we just wandered in, this time through the front door and I had a walk around the track and then took a look at one of the goalmouths.

The main stand.

I’d been here about eighteen months ago and watched some locals playing. Too many of them were wearing jeans for me to count it as a proper game, but the fact that the pitch is maintained leaves me hopeful of seeing a match here at some point.

The other end.

For those who like a bit of detail, the stadium has a capacity of thirty thousand and was built in 1980, which makes it positively ancient by Korean standards.  Next time the Japanese invade I’d expect them to loot the goal posts and then burn the place down. It’s normal practice for historical sites like this.

It’s time for the Asian Champions League Final. Jeonbuk were at home to Qatari team Al Sadd, giving them what seemed to me to be an unfair advantage in a one-off tie. Still, I’m not complaining, it’s better than it being played in Timbuktu or somewhere, although admittedly the chances of the Asian Football Confederation ever staging the game in a West African town are pretty slim. Probably about as slim as those of FIFA awarding Qatar the World Cup Finals, I imagine.
 
Jeonbuk has done pretty well this season. Apart from reaching this final, they ‘won’.the  K-League with a couple of weeks to spare, putting themselves directly into the play-off final. Lee Dong Gook has had a good season too, top-scoring in the Champions League with nine of the twenty-five goals that he has scored this season coming in that competition. For all of that though and despite playing some great football, they’ve won nothing yet.
 
Jeonbuk’s route to the final was fairly straightforward, the only recent downside being an injury to Lee Dong Gook in the first leg of the semi-final that had kept him out of action since then. Al Sadd had a much more eventful run to the final, qualifying for the competition as a late replacement only after the Vietnam FA had forgotten to send their entry form in and then despite losing both legs of their quarter-final managing to go through due to their opponents fielding an ineligible player.
 
Al Sadd overcame Korean club Suwon Bluewings in their semi-final with the help of a goal scored as a result of them pretending to return the ball after it had been kicked out for an injury, but then playing a defence splitting pass to set up a goal instead.  The mass brawl that followed included a kung fu fighting sub.
 

"aaaaaaiiiiiiii"

There were reports that this game would be a sell-out and although this seemed unlikely Jen and I turned up an hour and a half before kick-off just in case. Jen asked the girl in the ticket office for seats in the ‘Special Zone’ which is the area where you get a table in front of you and free beer and chicken to put on it. I was a little surprised that the tickets were only 15,000 won rather than the usual 20,000 and when we got in we found out why. They weren’t ‘Special Zone’ tickets after all, those seats were reserved for visiting posh people and our ‘Special Zone’ seats were just normal lower tier seats. I didn’t fancy that so we headed upstairs and took a couple of seats next to the media section and close to the halfway mark.
 
I think I’ve started to take some of the good things about Korean football for granted. Drinking beer whilst watching the match for example. I’m used to either bringing in a few cans or else just buying a bagful from the shop inside the ground. Tonight though in a ruling more annoying than staging the final in Timbuktu would have been, the Asian Football Confederation had decided that beer had to be decanted into paper cups. Marvellous. As I’d already been hiking that day and didn’t want to be negotiating the stairs every five minutes I got three cups, the maximum I could carry. At least they were alcoholic I suppose, UEFA don’t even allow that at their matches.
 
As the teams lined up I discovered that Lee Dong Gook had only made the bench, with his lack of match fitness after his injury probably counting against him.
 

Jeonbuk v Al Sadd

 
The rumours of a sell-out were exaggerated, but it was an exceptional turnout for a Korean club game. The official announcement of 41,805 was probably only five or six thousand above my own assessment of the crowd. I suspect that Korean pride at the prospect of winning an international trophy made it more like a game involving the national side. Jen and I had been here a month earlier and despite Jeonbuk being top of the league the place was empty then. I suspected that some of the crowd hadn’t been to a match since the 2002 World Cup, which made the lengthy queues for paper cups of beer all the more frustrating.
 
There didn’t seem to be as much media interest in the game as I’d have expected, or at least they weren’t  occupying the designated area. Perhaps they were all in the ‘Special Zone’ drinking our free beer and eating our chicken. The media seats didn’t go to waste though as a party of kids just took them over.
 

I'm sure that they were all properly accredited.

 
As far as the football goes, Eninho put Jeonbuk ahead early on with a free-kick from the edge of the box. At that stage it looked as if Jeonbuk would run away with the game. They didn’t capitalise on their advantage though and Al Sadd levelled on the half-hour with a headed own goal from Sim Woo Yeon.
 

Eninho puts Jeonbuk ahead.

 
I braved the queue at half time only to discover that the beer was sold out. That’s what happens when you get thirty-five thousand people showing up once every eight years. In the second half Al Sadd stunned the home crowd when they took the lead after a quick break. With twenty minutes to go Jeonbuk brought on Lee Dong Gook and Lee Seung Hyun in an effort to try to get back into the game.

Lion King time.

The final twenty minutes consisted of constant Jeonbuk pressure punctuated by Al-Sadd timewasting. I reckon we only got about ten minutes where the ball was actually in play, with the rest of the time being spent treating Al Sadd players for a variety of mystery ailments.
 
The substitutions paid off though when right on the final whistle Lee Seung Hyun snatched an equaliser for the home side.

Two each.

Despite them stealing my Special Zone seat and then buying up all of the beer before half-time I couldn’t help feeling pleased for the Jeonbuk fans, even those who didn’t appear to know which team was which.

Just like 2002.

Neither side really looked like winning it in extra time and so penalties it was. The Korean bloke who turns out for Al Sadd, Lee Jung Soo, diplomatically missed his penalty but none of his team mates did and Al Sadd picked up the trophy. Jen and I struggled for a taxi afterwards and ended up with fried chicken and beer after all as we killed time in a hof waiting for the part-timers to make their way home.
 
Next up for Jeonbuk is the K-League play-off final at the beginning of December. Even though the crowd will drop by three-quarters I’ll be playing safe and filling my pockets with cans of Asahi.

Some of the things that I write about tend to be a bit vague. Actually that opening sentence is a bit vague. It proves my point though, I suppose. The vagueness is generally because I don’t really know what I’m writing about and it’s easier to just avoid including details rather than bothering to find out. This post is vaguer than most.

Jen and I had been hiking in Moaksan Provincial Park and were on our way down from Mount Moak when we spotted a football pitch in the valley at the bottom. At this point we were still a good kilometre away, but we could see that a game was underway. It reminded me of the view from the away end at St James’ Park. I didn’t take a photo at that point because my camera was in my backpack, but if you imagine a Subbuteo pitch at the bottom of your garden then you will probably have a reasonable idea of what we could see.

Anyway, once we got to the bottom we went and had a look. There was a football tournament taking place and since we were due a rest after our hike we stopped for a while to watch one of the games.

Now this is where it gets vaguer than normal as I have no idea who the teams were, nor the name of the ground. We were near to the start of a trail within Moaksan Provincial Park but I don’t even know if the name of the village was Moaksan. Whatever.  One of the teams was dressed up as Italy and the other as Holland, so I’ll just assume that the local council had stumped up the cash to stage a prestigious international friendly.

Johan Cruyff takes on three Italians.

One of the things that I like about Korea is the abundance of sporting facilities. Everywhere you look you will find football pitches, basketball courts, outdoor gym equipment. We’ve even stumbled across badminton courts halfway up a mountain before. This pitch was artificial, with a small stand at the half-way line and three rows of concrete seating running the length of the pitch either side of it . It would be ideal for a second or third division team.

The main stand.

The best thing though was the view. Whilst the hills behind the stand were impressive enough, the opposite side of the pitch had a mountain backdrop that was guaranteed to make a player’s attention wander whenever he wasn’t on the ball. I imagine quite a few goals have been scored whilst a keeper has been leaning against his post gazing into the distance. I used to be a goalie and I let loads in by not paying attention even though the only views I had to distract me were local housing estates or chemical plants. I dread to think how much more of a liability I’d have been if I’d played next to Moaksan.

The other side of the pitch

Some of the players looked to be getting on a bit and others were carrying a few pounds more than looked good for them, although I can empathise with all of that. Typical Sunday League stuff I suppose. In keeping with the lack of detail I’ve no idea what the score was either. There was definitely at least one goal at each end if that helps.

The Italians had an extensive post-match warm-down session.

It wasn’t the best attended of games. The only other spectators were the players who were waiting to use the pitch next and a small child that presumably belonged to some bloke who had been unable to get a babysitter. We stayed for about half an hour, but then had to get away because we were off to the Champions League Final. The football would undoubtedly be better at the big game, but the pitchside view certainly wouldn’t.

I find it hard to resist the chance to visit a new ground, particularly one that only gets used once a year and so I thought I might as well make the effort. Gyeongnam has previous for this sort of thing, they played a game at Geochang earlier in the season and have also staged matches at Masan, Milyang and Yangsan in the past. I have a feeling that they would probably play in your back garden if you offered them enough cash.

It reminds me a bit of the way that county cricket teams would share their fixtures around. Yorkshire would regularly visit Acklam Park whilst Durham would turn out now and then at Stockton Cricket Club. I’m not sure to what extent it still goes on but I suspect it’s less common these days than it was in the past.

I got the bus from Seoul Express bus terminal at 8.20am. It was 22,000 won and they seem to run pretty frequently. The roads were clearer than normal and I arrived in Jinju on time at 12.10pm.

I’d actually been to Jinju before. I was there last year with my mate Paul either side of a hike up Jirisan. On that occasion though, we’d seen the inside of a bar or two and the bus station, but not a great deal more. As I had plenty of time before the 3pm kick-off I wandered along to the fortress by the river which is okay for a quick visit.

Jinju Fortress

There are a few old looking buildings inside the fortress walls that have been rebuilt over the years. There is also a rock that a local girl jumped off a few hundred years ago. She managed to drown a Japanese General by throwing herself into the river and dragging him in with her. There was none of that sort of thing going on whilst I was there, but with a visit from a K-League team once a year I suppose that the locals no longer feel the need to make their own entertainment.

Be careful if you are a Japanese General.

I’d seen as much of the fortress as I wanted to by one o’clock and thought that I might as well walk to the stadium. I’d picked up a map earlier and it seemed easy enough, just follow the river until you get there. The river walk was quite pleasant. It was a bit overgrown but provided an opportunity to see some wildlife along the way, mainly butterflies and herons.

Just keep the river to your right and you won't get lost.

As the time moved towards half past two I was getting a little worried that my map may not have been too accurate, but fortunately the stadium came into sight. It’s a very impressive looking ground, built last year with a sensible capacity of twenty thousand.

Jinju Stadium

I got a ticket for eight thousand won and sat with a few lads that I know towards the back of one of side stands. The stadium was just as impressive inside as out, the highlight being a grassy bank behind one of the goals. It’s a feature that I like and I’ve enjoyed stretching out on the grass before at LA Galaxy and at Munhak for the baseball. I first encountered one at Wigan in the Boro’s 1986-7 promotion season, but the climate in north-west England meant that it was more like a slag heap. It wasnt just the players who should have been wearing football boots that day.

FC Seoul fans behind the goal.

There was an excellent turnout for the game, although as usual, people were still arriving well into the second half. At its peak, I’d say the place was 95% full, although the announced attendance claimed an impressive 110% capacity at 22,000.

The other end.

As far as the game went, it was always likely to end in tears for Gyeongnam. Seoul are having a far better season and needed a win themselves to clinch third place. Gyeongnam had a slim chance of making the play-offs but in addition to requiring three points they were also relying on two other teams failing to win.

Not a great deal happened in the first hour. Seoul then broke the deadlock when a heavily deflected shot from Ha Dae Sung wrongfooted veteran keeper Kim Byeung Ji. Gyeongnam’s task was made a little harder when they had a bloke sent off for something off the ball. I didn’t see what happened but unfortunately for Jeong Da Hooeon the ref did.

Seoul on the attack

Gyeongnam pushed forward despite being a man down and were then caught twice as Ha Dae Sung completed his hat-trick. In the end results elsewhere meant that the three-nil defeat didn’t matter. A lot of the crowd had gome home early once Seoul got on top, but it was still busy on the way out. As I left I was passed by about a hundred Korean RAF lads marching in formation.

Left, right, left, right.

The traffic was heavier on the way back to Seoul and so my return journey took over four and a half hours. I’ll keep an eye out for Gyeongman’s fixtures next season in the hope that they will continue to spread some games around the region.

This weekend saw the final round of fixtures for the third division Challengers League and so Jen and I got the bus from Dong Seoul to Cheongju for the game between Cheongju Jikji and Cheonan. It’s a journey that is only supposed to take ninety minutes but a combination of heavy traffic and plenty of accidents meant that we were on the bus for an hour longer than planned.

Fortunately we had allowed sufficient time and after taking a short taxi ride from the bus terminal we were at the Cheongju Stadium a good half an hour before kick-off. The ground is part of a complex that includes a basketball arena that is home to a women’s team, KB Stars, and a baseball park. I’ve no idea who plays there though. As there is rarely any beer for sale inside the stadiums in the third division I picked up a six pack of Hite from a convenience store across the road. The beer was in Hanwha Eagles branded cans. It has to be good for you if the baseball teams are endorsing it. I suppose that it makes it an official sports drink. Probably even isotonic or something.

There was no charge to get into the ground which is normal at this level but we were given a ticket each that was probably for a raffle. Cheongju Stadium is a fairly typical bowl, built in the mid-sixties and with the almost regulation running track. It was smartened up a bit a few years ago apparently and there is now a roof all the way around, although if it rained you would probably have to sit quite close to the back to get any benefit.

Cheongju stadium

Cheongju were in blue with the visitors in orange. Cheonan had brought a solitary fan with them and he had the end to our right all to himself. He had a drum to keep himself occupied and he kept up his chanting for most of the game. It was quite a heroic effort really and he was far more impressive than  the hundred and fifty or so home fans who seemed content to just sit and quietly chat to each other.

"I'll support you ever more..."

Cheongju took the lead in the sixth minute when a nice passing move was sidefooted home from close range. It was like a five-a-side goal, where the defence and keeper are drawn to the ball and someone finishes it off from the edge of the ‘D’.

The home side were well on top for the opening twenty minutes, with Cheonan frequently trying and failing to play them offside. It was quite a surprise therefore when the visitors equalised after one of their strikers headed home a cross from the right. It seemed a fair reward for the effort that their lone drummer was putting in.

Cheongju were back in front again just before half time though with a header from near the penalty spot. The lad who scored it must do it every week as he didn’t bother celebrating his goal.

The home fans - they didn't celebrate much either.

At half time there was a presentation to the ball boys, probably in recognition of their efforts over the season in retrieving balls from the far corners of empty stands. I went for a piss only to find a couple of the players in adjoining urinals. That rarely happens to me at The Riverside.

In the second half it was pretty much one-way traffic. Cheongju were awarded a penalty for handball early on and a lad who had just come on as a sub sent the keeper the wrong way to increase the lead to three-one.

3-1.

Cheonju got a couple more goals in the space of a minute or so a quarter of an hour from the end. I missed them both unfortunately, as the effects of the six pack of  Hanwha Hite had kicked in and I’d gone for another piss. There weren’t any footballers there that time.

Five-one was the final score. I was surprised to see that the Cheonan fans didn’t acknowledge their single fan at the end. He’d kept up his support throughout the game and didn’t even get a wave from the players, never mind the customary bow. I think if I’d been the Cheonan manager I’d have called him down from the stand and brought him on as a substitute for the last ten minutes.

The win meant that Cheongju Jikji finished the season in fourth place in their eight team group with Cheonan ending up two places and twenty points behind them in sixth.