Trail of the Lion King

This game marked the end of the football season and nine months on from a trip to Daegu for their opening fixture with Seoul,  Jeonbuk’s game with Jeju brought my 2012 K-League viewing to a close.

It was just about as cold as that day in March and not surprisingly Jen decided to clear off back to Seoul after our overnight stay in Yeongdong. My plan was to catch the boggie that went to Sintanjin and then another one to Iksan. It all went exactly as intended and at around six quid for the two and a half hour journey I couldn’t complain about the cost.

Because I know some of you like trains.

I had plenty of time to spare and so called in for my usual dolsot bibimbap at a cafe next to Iksan station. I’m not really sure whether I order it because it’s something that’s easily pronounced and understood or whether it’s because I quite like it when the rice gets crusty at the bottom of the bowl. Probably a bit of both I suppose. After I’d eaten I took a taxi to Jeonbuk’s World Cup Stadium. Whilst the twenty minute ride cost me twice as much as the train journey, I reckon that it was pretty good value too.

Another World Cup Stadium.

I bought a ticket for the East Stand and made my way in with about half an hour or so to spare before kick-off. Promotional girls were giving out free oranges at the turnstiles, presumably from Jeju. I couldn’t see that happening in England, not least because the aerial bombardment that would invariably follow would make the stuff that’s going on in Syria look tame.

There weren’t too many people milling about, although there was a decent queue of people waiting patiently for autographs from a couple of Jeonbuk players. I assume that they were players as, somewhat embarrassingly, after three years of  watching them play the only fellas that I recognise apart from the foreigners are Lee Dong Gook and old Choi the keeper. I can confirm that neither of those two were there. Probably.

There weren’t many more fans inside the stadium, although I suppose it was to be expected. Jeonbuk’s crowds have been poor all season and with their title challenge having faded over recent weeks there wasn’t a great deal to excite their fans. Jeju were never going to bring many fans with them either and whilst the official attendance was given as 5,843 I’d say there were no more than four thousand people in the ground.

There weren’t many more than this lot.

Not a lot happened in the first half. Jeonbuk’s Kim Dong Chan had an effort disallowed for offside and Lee Dong Gook twice went close. That was about it. I noticed a new banner above the ‘home end’ paying tribute to the Boro’s best ever Korean player. I don’t recall seeing anything like that at the Riverside when he played there.

They love him here.

At half time I went for a stroll and ended up in the North Stand. It felt even colder there with the wind blowing in through the exposed corner. I quite like changing vantage point part of the way through a game though, even if it does increase my chances of hypothermia.

The view from somewhere colder.

The second half was more of the same. Jeju had one disallowed, whilst Jeonbuk had the better chances overall. Lee Dong Gook missed a couple more and was then denied what I thought seemed a legitimate penalty. He kept at it though and with ten minutes left he was brought down on the edge of the box, setting the stage for Eninho to curl a free-kick home. The Brazilian struck it well enough but the Jeju keeper made a great save, clawing it out of the top corner.

It looked in all the way.

Jung Hoon and Kim Jung Woo both went close for the home side in the closing moments but couldn’t quite do enough and the game finished goalless. We then got the usual post-season stuff with balls being kicked into the crowd, speeches made and departing players thrown in the air. The Jeonbuk fans marked the start of their winter off with a display of flares that would probably get them a lifetime ban and six months in chokey in the UK.

It warmed things up.

It’s possible that I’ll be leaving Korea before the start of the 2013 season and so I hung back a little longer than I normally would soaking it all in before sloping off to look for a taxi.

Whilst I didn’t see as much of Jeonbuk this season as I had in the previous two, I did get to thirty six Korean games overall throughout the year, twenty two of which were new grounds for me. When you add in a match in Poland during the Euros, two in Japan, three in Spain and three at the Boro, that’s the equivalent of a full season in the Championship. Not bad at all, really. Hopefully next year will be just as good, wherever I am.

I’d had my eye on this game for a while, mainly because for a long time it looked as if it could be the title-decider. Jeonbuk’s loss of form towards the end of the season though meant that Seoul had already clinched the league by the time the game came around and therefore the result meant little to anyone.

The fixture had been designated ‘Foreigner’s Day’ by the home club. It’s their annual attempt to swell the crowd by appealing to non-Koreans who like to turn up at ‘fun’ foreigner activities. There’s a circuit of these things that seem to be obligatory to gap-year kids and when they aren’t being enticed to football games with cheap tickets and free beer, you can find them throwing mud at each other on the beach or making paper lanterns and practising their bowing at a temple-stay. I’m not particularly comfortable in the company of strangers at the best of times, but having to watch a game with a couple of hundred people who know as much about the game as I do about baseball is pretty much my idea of hell.

Still, the stadiums are big enough to keep yourself to yourself if you want to and I caught the subway up to Sangam. There was a fella in my carriage wearing a pair of glasses without any lenses in. I’ve seen this a few time and I presume that they are going for the nerdy look. Fair enough, whatever gets the girl.  What I can’t grasp though is why they don’t get some glasses with plain lenses in them and do it properly. I’m not a violent bloke by any means but I wouldn’t quibble with anyone who advocated a swift poke in the eye for these tosspots.

Fortunately the foreigners were all to be corralled in one particular part of the stadium around towards the North Stand. I declined the cheap ticket and free can of beer and bought myself a regular fourteen thousand won ticket for the opposite Jeonbuk end. There was a relatively poor turnout from the Jeonbuk fans, maybe three hundred or so, although with their season being over it was understandable.

The Jeonbuk fans. Not all of them, but not far off.

The game hadn’t caught the imagination of the home fans either and once again the ground was a lot emptier than I’d expected. The official attendance was announced as 25,316 but in reality there were somewhere between twelve and fifteen thousand people there. The Seoul fans behind the goal were in good form though, celebrating their championship season with cardboard cut-out golden stars and trophies.

The Seoul fans show off their new star and trophy.

Despite the extreme cold I got myself a couple of cans of Max. Drinking beer seems to be the right thing to do at a Korean football game and I didn’t really want the close to freezing temperature to change my matchday routine. I was pleased that I’d brought my gloves though, as I doubt holding an ice-cold can would have been tolerable otherwise.

The opening quarter of an hour belonged to Seoul. Jeonbuk picked up a couple of early bookings and Seoul’s Jung Jo Gook messed up a good opportunity to put the home side ahead when he handled as he tried to bundle the ball home. It didn’t matter though as a few minutes later Molina scored with a header  that bounced up off the ground and then went in off the post. The unusual flight of the ball seemed to wrong-foot Old Man Choi in the Jeonbuk goal. Not only did the whole Seoul team join in with the celebration but most of their subs seemed to be on the pitch too. It culminated in them posing for the cameras in front of their own fans at the opposite end of the stadium.

Whatever happened to a simple handshake?

Jeonbuk had their chances as the half progressed with three of them falling to Lee Dong Gook. None of them were sitters but he has scored from much more difficult opportunities throughout the season. The game moved further away from Jeonbuk five minutes before half time when Escudero went down. I didn’t see what happened but the recently booked Eninho looked to have got the blame and amidst a melee of players, subs and coaches he picked up a second yellow. It looked as if one of the Jeonbuk officials was sent to the stand too although I’ve no idea who or what for. I’m not convinced that the ref knew either.

Bye bye.

Two beers in freezing conditions was enough to send me scuttling to the bogs at half-time and there was a bloke in there brushing his teeth. That’s not something I’d expect to see at a football match. Now, it’s easy to slag off Korean fellas for their lack of personal hygiene as for every one that bothers to wash his hands after having a piss, there are another ten who just hog the mirror to flick at their carefully waxed hair without going anywhere near the sink. With teeth though it’s a different  matter. I’m convinced that most blokes at work brush their teeth after every coffee, never mind every meal. I’m surprised they have any enamel left on them.

I missed the first five minutes of the second half queuing for another couple of cans as too many of the people in front of me in the queue seemed to be doing their weekly shop. I didn’t miss much though. In fact there wasn’t really that much to miss throughout the second half.

Random action shot.

Both sides had minor chances, the best of which brought an excellent double save from Old Man Choi in the Jeonbuk goal. Damjanovic very graciously acknowledged his efforts, which I suppose comes a little easier when you are about to win the game and have already won the league.

At the final whistle we got the obligatory ‘We Are The Champions’ and a shower of paper at the trophy ceremony from what must be a specialist celebratory blowing machine that travels the country catering for occasions like this.

“No time for losers…”

I watched for a while as the players sprayed each other with champagne and skipped around with their families. The celebrations culminated in some horse dancing. Of course. No event is complete in Korea these days without a bit of imaginary horse-riding. I suspect that they even do it at funerals. It’s generally my cue to bugger off though and so that’s what I did.

The 2012 season is drawing to an end. The previous week had seen Incheon Korail win the National League Play-off Final whilst FC Seoul clinched the K-League. As we reached the final week of November the only competition still to be decided was the third-tier Challengers League in which Chuncheon had come through the play-offs and earned the right to play top of the table Pocheon.

I’d been to Pocheon a couple of years earlier. It’s an unremarkable town with a main street full of the usual shops and a Sunday market that sold everything from power tools to live rabbits and chickens.

Here’s a photo I took last time.

Still, when there’s not much football left to play I wouldn’t want to miss anything, particularly a final. I took a bus from Dong Seoul and an hour and a half later arrived in Pocheon. They don’t have the market on a Saturday so if I’d been wanting a sackful of dogs or a Chinese monkey wrench I’d have been out of luck.

I’d remembered where the stadium was from my previous visit. You come out of the bus station, head for the river and when you’ve crossed the bridge just follow the road (and the river) to the right. There were  banners and posters advertising the game and there were even a few policemen directing the traffic towards a car park next to the ground. On my last visit there were almost as many players as spectators and so this felt like one of Pocheon’s big days.

The main stand was fairly full as kick-off approached. On the other side of the pitch we had around two hundred and fifty soldiers supporting the home side.

It beats the trenches. Just.

A closer inspection showed that not only were the soldiers banging inflatable sticks together with military precision but they were being co-ordinated by cheerleaders. It’s hard to imagine what cheerleaders do in Pocheon on the occasions where there isn’t a play-off final, but they seemed well enough organised.

The usual gratuitous cheerleader photo.

Chuncheon had brought around forty supporters, a few banners and a couple of drums. They kept up a decent tempo throughout but couldn’t really compete with the soldiers fifty yards along the terracing.

No cheerleaders.

The first half was fairly even. Pocheon passed the ball well and were comfortable taking their time and building from the back. The closest that they got to a scoring though was hitting the bar after twenty minutes. Chuncheon seemed content to soak up the pressure and try to hit their hosts on the counter-attack. It nearly paid off just before the break when they had an effort ruled out for offside.

Pocheon are in the red, Chuncheon the bee costumes.

The half-time whistle was greeted with more excitement than you’d imagine and a lot of the crowd in the main stand surged forward to the front. It turns out that the main event of the day for most people there wasn’t the match but the raffle. I had a quick glance at the prizes and  could pick out a fridge freezer, something else the size of a washing machine, ten mountain bikes and any number of sacks of rice and cartons of unidentified drink.

This lot added 750 people to the gate.

I hadn’t bothered with a ticket and so left them to it and had a wander around to the other side of the pitch. Besides, I’d have struggled to get a fridge-freezer onto the bus.

The view from the other side.

Pocheon started the second half well and should really have gone ahead ten minutes after the restart. A shot from outside of the area was parried by the Chuncheon keeper into the path of Kang Seok Gu, only for him to screw his shot wide.

It didn’t take much longer for the goal to come though and the home side went ahead through Seo Dong Hyun.

Pocheon celebrate.

Chuncheon had their chances as the second half went on but for a long time didn’t really looked like equalising. Things picked up for them five minutes from time though when Pocheon’s Park Gi Seo was given a second yellow for dissent.

“What did I say?”

The dismissal set up a frantic final few minutes as the visitors pushed for the goal that would take the tie into extra time. There were some nasty tackles flying in from Pocheon, but the ref seemed reluctant to reduce them to nine men.

Instead he evened the numbers up by dismissing Chuncheon’s Park Chul Woo for a dive. I reckoned it could just as easily have been a penalty although my judgement may have been swayed by my seat amongst the away fans.

The failed penalty appeal was Chuncheon’s last chance and the final whistle brought the Challengers League season to an end.

Pocheon celebrate again.

That wasn’t the end of the entertainment. Oh no. We were ‘treated’ to a dance routine from a few of the soldiers. As you might have expected it included what now seems to be an obligatory horse dance.

Maybe they will end up in a Cavalry troop.

That was enough for me and without waiting for the trophy presentation I cleared off back to Seoul.

Korean teams have done pretty well in the Asian Champions League in recent seasons. There’s been a K-League representative in each of the last four finals with Pohang Steelers and Seongnam winning in 2009 and 2010 respectively, whilst Jeonbuk Motors lost out on penalties last year. This season it was Ulsan Horangi’s turn to fly the flag with a home game against Saudi club Al-Ahli.

Jen and I had travelled down from Seoul that morning and had spotted a group of what we thought were Al-Ahli fans at the station. A closer look at their identical kit suggested that they may very well have been players or officials. Some of them didn’t look particularly athletic, but then again, neither did the likes of Alan Foggon or Branco when they were turning out for the Boro.

They were all very similarly dressed.

I’d spent the afternoon at a second-tier National League game in the company of some lads I know from a football forum and after continuing our drinking at a table outside of a convenience store, we caught a taxi to the Munsu stadium.

I took this photo the previous time I was there.

There weren’t any queues at the ticket office, although that was probably more a consequence of us having got there early rather than an indication of the potential crowd size. Tickets were very reasonably priced at 8,000 won, a fair bit cheaper than those at a European Champions League final.

Munsu is one of the better World Cup grounds in my opinion, mainly because it doesn’t have a running track. There’s a decent view from everywhere apart from those seats directly behind the giant inflatable tiger positioned close to one of the corners.

Initially only the East and South stands were open for home fans with a decent turn-out from the Al-Ahli fans in the North.

The Al-Ahli fans shortly after kick-off.

After queueing in vain for more beer we took seats in the upper tier of the South stand behind the goal and it wasn’t long before Kwak Tae Hwi put the hosts a goal up. As the first half wore on it was interesting to see the ground fill up. There wasn’t enough room in the two open stands allocated to the home fans and so people were just hopping over the fence and finding seats alongside the away fans in the North or in the posher West stand.

Ulsan fans behind the goal.

By the time second half goals from Rafinha and Kim Seung Yong clinched the trophy for Ulsan the place was almost full. The official attendance was 42,315 and for once I couldn’t argue much with the announced figure. Sadly, as with last year’s final in Jeonju, the size of the crowd resulted in the beer running out far too soon.

The view from behind the tiger.

I cleared off with a few minutes to go and caught a taxi back into town, leaving Ulsan to celebrate their first success at this level and the tenth in total for a Korean club.

The regular season in the second tier National League is over and we are into the play-offs. It’s a fairly straightforward system with the teams finishing third to sixth playing two semi-finals and then a final to determine which of them meets the second placed team. The winner of that game earns the right to play the club that finished top of the league.

Incheon Korail had emerged victorious from the teams in third to sixth and their reward was an away tie with Ulsan Mipo Dockyard Dolphins. If that name isn’t long enough I think there’s a Hyundai sneaked somewhere into it as well.

The National League Play-off Semi Final wasn’t the only event going on in Ulsan that weekend, K-League team Ulsan Horangi were taking on Saudi team Al–Ahli in the Champions League Final that evening, whilst basketball team Mobis Phoebus had a home fixture the following day. With all that going on Jen and I decided to make a weekend of it and we caught the KTX from Seoul on the Saturday morning.

It’s an impressively quick two hour fifteen minute journey to Ulsan, impressive that is until you realise just how far out of town the new KTX station is. It’s not much different to those airports that try and trade off the name of somewhere else, London Luton for example, whilst I’m sure Ryanair will have a few even further away than that.

We took a half hour taxi ride into the city centre, although to be fair, there were a few buses waiting outside of the station covering a variety of destinations.  A quick lunch of Dak Galbi (which seems to have less potato in it every time I have it) and it was time for me to leave Jen to her indoor stuff and head off to the match. She put me in a taxi and asked the driver (in Korean) to take me to Ulsan Sports Complex Stadium. For good measure she let him know that this was not the Munsu World Cup Stadium and I then made a point of showing him the stadium on a map of Ulsan.

Home of the Dolphins.

Of course you know what happened next. He grinned, nodded, muttered “Soccer Stadium“ a couple of times and set off for the Munsu World Cup Stadium. I knew what he had done almost instantly as I’d walked to that ground on a previous visit to Ulsan. Every time we stopped at some lights I’d show him the map and point out the correct stadium, highlighting that it was north of the river and we weren’t. He just kept grinning and driving.

As the signs for Munsu became more frequent I was reduced to pointing at them and doing that crossed armed gesture. Eventually it dawned on him that something was amiss and he stopped to ask the opinion of a couple of small children. I showed them the map and they told him where he was supposed to be going. Twenty minutes later than we should have done we pulled up outside of the Ulsan Sports Complex Stadium with him still grinning, nodding and muttering “Soccer Stadium“ to no-one in particular.

Once inside the big surprise was that the away fans outnumbered the home. Korail had brought five hundred employees on a team-building trip and they had set up camp in the front rows of the stand opposite the tunnel.

The Korail fans are down at the front.

Not only did the Korail employees all have inflatable sticks to bang together, they had cheerleaders to show them how it should be done. The couple of dozen home ’ultras’ were shunted to the far-end of the stand where they consoled themselves with some decent stocks of soju.

The cheerleaders do their stuff.

It was a good game. Ulsan took the lead mid-way through the first half when Kim Byung Oh finished a well-worked move. The home side held the advantage until ten minutes from time when Korail’s Lee Seung Hwan curled a free-kick from outside of the box off the post and into the far corner.

As extra-time loomed Korail then managed to sneak a winner with a Lee Geun Won header.

Korail in white, Mipo in blue.

The home side weren’t the most gracious of losers and despite their coach having been sent to the stand for giving out a bit too much lip, he was back on the pitch at the end leading the protests.

Time to go home.

Understandably the visitors were in a happier frame of mind and they celebrated with their fans, a lot of whom I suspect were seeing Korail play for the first time. Or possibly seeing any football match for the first time.

Korail team-building.

The result meant that Ulsan’s season was over whilst Korail progressed to a two-legged final with Goyang KB.