The citizens of Suwon, a city 35km south of Seoul, love their football; as John Duerden discovers as he joins the faithful at Big Bird Stadium
It is a sticky Saturday night in July and football fans are gathered in Suwon, South Korea. While the city’s name translates as ‘field of water’, apparently in reference to historic wells, the crowds have converged on an altogether different field, one that is brightly illuminated and where sweat and noodle soup are the liquids of choice, as local team the Suwon Samsung Bluewings defeat Incheon United 2-0.
The visitors’ spirited resistance is no match for the Bluebirds’ ardent supporters.
After each strike against Incheon, the Suwon fans put their arms around each other and dance. As is the custom among many fans in east Asia, one row bounces to the left, the other to the right while mangling some old tune – just up the road, Seoul fans sing When Johnny Comes Marching Home – it is easily energetic enough to make even the most cynical European observers smile.
At the final whistle, victorious players walk over to their supporters behind the goal and bow as one. The fans, almost as weary as their heroes after 90 minutes of singing and dancing, give one last roar.
The whole scene evokes the 2002 World Cup, which South Korea not only hosted, but also used as a vehicle to introduce its homegrown talent to the world. As the team shocked European powers such as Portugal, Poland, Italy and Spain, the fans, officially known as The Red Devils, amazed international viewers by gathering in their millions in Seoul and other cities to sing, shout, dance, cry and then clean up after themselves. They gave the impression that no nation in Asia matched their passion for the sport.
That is not quite the case. South Korea is easily Asia’s most successful nation as far as clubs and national teams go and its professional K-League pre-dates all others. However, the 2002 success provided only a short-term boost and the 10 massive stadia built for the tournament are rarely full; Incheon will be the first team to leave its 53,000-capacity arena in 2010 to move into an intimate 20,000-seater structure in the port city’s old downtown.
A goal from Manchester United star Park Ji-sung in the English Premier League receives more airplay than a whole weekend of local action and it is the national, rather than any regional, team that really gets the pulses racing in the Land of the Morning Calm.
Suwon is different, however, where the city’s football foundations are just as fertile as its geographical ones.
The metropolis, 35km south of Seoul, is the birthplace of Park, for a start, who is Asia’s most famous footballer. And the Bluewings are one of the continent’s biggest and best-supported teams; perhaps there is something special in the water.
The attention is deserved: the Bluewings are leading the way this season points-wise and this in turn is bringing the fans in droves to the team’s home ground, affectionately known as ‘The Big Bird’. Suwon may be owned, as many Korean clubs are, by a massive conglomerate, but the Bluewings are strictly about football. The Incheon game marked a record 11th consecutive win in the league. After the game, a still-sweating Mato Neretljak explained what it meant to play for Suwon.
‘There is something special about this place,’ the former Croatian international defender told me. ‘I have played in Europe… Europe is Europe, but [Suwon] is special. Seoul has a population of over 10 million, but the team attracts crowds of 20–25,000. Suwon’s population is only one million, but 30–35,000 [supporters] come here. Fans like these are rare.’
They seem to be everywhere around the stadium before the game where the action starts long before anybody puts boot to ball. ‘We love the Bluewings and The Big Bird,’ blue-shirted Kim Myung-won tells me before the match. ‘The atmosphere is great – we never stop singing.
Win or lose, we have a good time. It is a great way to see friends and relieve stress.’
Having a good time is different for fans in South Korea than, say, the UK, where for many supporters the pre-match build-up is spent in the pub. In Korea, bars do not usually open until the evening so it is lunch before an afternoon kick-off, dinner before an evening start, spicy instant noodles at half-time (huge tureens of boiling water are on hand, some clubs provide grills to cook squid) and only afterwards is beer consumed – for those old enough. Compared to Europe, the hardcore fans are younger and there are more females, many of whom come straight from school in their uniforms.
Each K-League team has dozens of supporters’ groups, though some consist of just a few fans. This in indicative of a South Korean love of joining in – few adults in Seoul are not part of some alumni group from school, whether elementary or university.
At weekends, the mountains that dominate the landscape are packed with brightly dressed hikers and, along the Han River that dissects Seoul, it is more common to see teams of cyclists than single riders. There is a good reason why South Koreans are world leaders in multi-player online computer games.
In the stadium, which hosted four matches at the 2002 World Cup, new fans are welcome. Suwon even has a foreign supporters’ club, but if you want to get into the thick of the action behind the goal you have to keep up with the non-stop singing, standing and regular bouncing.
As Suwon pile the pressure on Incheon, some fan leaders complain that the foreigners are not pulling their weight, but seem understanding when they are told that the slackers are English and cannot be expected to sing for 90 minutes. The crowd does not confine itself to songs. Drums beat and there is carefully choreographed flag waving. Selected leaders stand at the front with their backs to the action and issue instructions through loudspeakers.
Support is of the 100 per cent variety, but perhaps strangely polite to European ears. A bad decision and the crowd will tell the referee to ‘come to his senses’. Incompetence on the field is not greeted by expletives, but chants of the player’s name. If the team falls behind, ‘It’s OK, it’s OK’, goes the chant. Even after a comprehensive defeat, players bow to the fans, who applaud enthusiastically in return.
There are few defeats in the historic city of Suwon these days, however. The city may or may not be built on a field of water, but for fans it is a field of dreams.
SUWON IN BRIEF
A fair proportion of Suwon’s million inhabitants jump on the subway, train or bus to make the short trip to Seoul every morning, but this bustling and lively city is more than just a dormitory town.
HWASEONG FORTRESS
Dominating downtown is the walled Hwaseong fortress that is well worth the two hours or so it takes to walk around. Built at the end of the 18th century to house the tomb of the father of Choson emperor Chongjo, it is, according to Unesco, who designated it as a World Heritage site, an ‘outstanding example of early modern military architecture, incorporating the most highly developed features of that science from both east and west’.
LOCAL DELICACY
After a walk and an insight into regional history, you can refuel with Suwon
Kalbi. This is a delicious variation of the increasingly popular Korean-style barbecue. The marinated short beef ribs are a perfect pre- or post-match meal (restaurants can be found close to the stadium), especially when washed down by the ubiquitous, and cheap, Korean spirit, soju. The food is placed on grills over hot coals on your table and you eat when ready.
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