The 1st Soccer Game: Suwon versus Seoul

Before I left California, I was nervous about my year long trip to Korea.  Ari, my friend, had spent 6 months abroad during college, so I sought him out for some advice.

                “Ari, you’ve been abroad…I’m nervous,” I said.  “What if I don’t fit in over there?  What if I don’t understand my new home?  Give me some advice, what should I do?”

                Ari said, very simply, “Billy, go to a soccer game.  You will understand the place you live in if you go to a local soccer game and see the diehard fans.  We don’t have that passion in the U.S.  As I recall, the team in your city, Suwon, is called the Bluewings.”

                Ari nailed it: it’s the Suwon Bluewings; and five days after my birthday, on August 28^th, I wanted to watch the Bluewings defend their home turf against FC Seoul.   That day’s match was between the blues (Suwon) and the reds (Seoul)—I couldn’t miss this primary match-up or the opportunity to get to know my neighbors.

I managed to convince a co-worker, Ace, to come along.  Since I met him, he had chatted constantly about his soccer prowess and the German Bundesliga, so I knew that this match was destined for Ace and I.  At first, Ace was reluctant to see this (in his opinion) provincial soccer game, but when I told him that beers were cheap and that I’d pay for his ticket we sought out a taxi and left for the stadium. 

The tickets I wanted to buy were for seats in the North Side of the Big Bird (Suwon World Cup Stadium).  I was told that The North Side was where all the Suwon soccer hooligans would rage.  The Bluewing fans call themselves “Grand Bleus” and I wanted to sit with the Grand Bleus and see my neighbors at their most manic.  I wanted to test Ari’s theory and learn about Suwon.

The streets were cluttered with taxis and buses as Ace and I waited in traffic.  When the grumbling taxi driver released us, Ace and I ran towards the giant relic from the 2002 World Cup, the Big Bird stadium.  In 2002, big scores were a trend at the Big Bird—averaging 5 goals per match.  Perhaps the enticement of high scoring games brings out all the locals, I wondered, because this place is packed with Bluewing fans.  Travelling uphill on the front lawn I noticed permanent art exhibits of steel, hordes of fans purchasing parkas.  It doesn’t look like rain, I noticed, however I should buy a parka anyway just in case it rains—tickets first though.  When we arrived at the ticket booth I logically explained to Ace why we needed to sit in the North Side:

                “A girl at an Indian restaurant said we should sit on the North Side of the stadium.  She said that’s where all the real fans sit—

                “North Side tickets sold out,” interrupted a busy looking man holding a long string of tickets; he wasn’t an official from the stadium, but what he said was verified when Ace checked with an official in the ticket booth.  Ace and I exchanged looks of shock: we wanted to sit where the crazies sat!  The Bluewings dream was soon to be over before it started…  I wanted to get a real taste of Korean soccer and especially Suwon fans—there had to be an alternative.

                “I have tickets though,” said the busy looking man, “₩15,000.”

                Ace and I were desperate for the North Side, so I overpaid for scalped tickets (the tickets are only supposed to cost ₩5,000 each).  I paid for two parkas (₩4,000 each) and then we hot-stepped into the stadium without turning back to look at our scalper.  I half-expected the tickets to crumble in my hand or to be for last week’s game, but they were just overpriced; we walked into the park with all the other fans.  I paid for 2 Cass beers (₩2,000 per can) and soon discovered that the North Side was really REALLY packed: No sitting room, just standing room.  Ace and I squirmed ourselves into the North Side quagmire with beers and parkas in hand.

We found an open spot, stood, and that was where we stayed for the rest of the game.  Before the game started I examined the Big Bird from my North Side vantage point: The West and East sections were for families or for anyone who actually wanted to sit and watch a game, the South Side was designated for the opposing team.  Today the South Side was all read, FC Seoul fans, and they waved red flags for intimidation and encouragement.  The North Side did the same—the only difference was that the North was filled with shoulder-to-shoulder fans and they had way more flags

The Grand Bleus in the North Side were a blue sea, waves of people constantly shifting and cheering.  It wasn’t just young people in the North Side, there were families who had arrived early and were actually sitting in the seats.  The families brought their babies dressed up in the mini-size Bluewings jerseys.  There were adults, teenagers, elementary aged-kids, babies—anyone and everyone was welcome (even a few foreigners like me). 

The center, however, was strictly a young-person crowd.  It was the heart of the Bluewings: the center was constantly sprayed with water from a hose, incited to chant and boo by a Grand Bleu with a  bullhorn, and they drunkenly swayed in mass—I assumed they were all drunk (I would need to be drunk to be in that pit).  At one point Ace suggested we go over to the center…I suggested next time would be better—when I actually was wearing a Bluewings jersey like everyone else was.  Overhead there was a large canopy that could block out some sun or rain, but it wasn’t enough: if it was going to rain, we were going to get drenched, good thing I bought these parkas.

When the game started so did the cheering.  The cheers were accompanied with dances, which I learned quickly.  Within the first 20 minutes two goals were scored by Suwon and the Grand Bleu-North Side was buzzing with energy.  Ace and I kept buying beer, we put the parkas on when it started raining, and we roared with our neighbors in the stands.  The second half was more exciting—there were 4 goals scored—and the Big Bird really lived up to its big scoring notoriety.  I’m not a sports commentator, so describing the play-by-play action wouldn’t do the game justice; thankfully the game’s highlights (all the goals) are on youtube.  I recommend watching; there’s a header-goal, by Suwon, that’s just magic.

At some point, maybe 15 minutes after the game had started, a business man, not much older than myself, arrived and placed himself near Ace and I.  From his briefcase he pulled out a Bluewings jersey and proceeded to electrify the outskirts of the North Side where we were sitting.  He didn’t know anyone, but he loved the Bluewings; he screamed every chant louder and danced every jig a little jiggier than anyone nearby.  He didn’t drink beer, he didn’t have a parka, he was just happy to have made it to the game.

As I left the game with Ace, and as we desperately searched for a vacant taxi, I thought of that lone business man making the trek to the Big Bird and sitting next to me.  He embodied my new home, Suwon.  He was hardworking (I could tell because of briefcase and arriving late from work), he was dedicated to his team, and he had heart.  The soccer game was my introduction to Suwon and my new neighbors; Ari was right, I definitely learned some things about Suwon that day.