It Was Fun While It Lasted....

Well, they fought a fairly good fight, but the fortunes of the mighty Daehan Minguk came crashing to an end at 6am on Saturday morning. Having done my usual, and not made this post straight after the event, I will just post an abridged version of the evenings events. By leaving it too late, I always forget things that were fresh in my mind, and then get newer more recent things, worthy of a wee blog. I aim to rectify this from now on, and really try to stay on top by posting smaller, more regular topics.


There's no need to get into the technicalities of the importance of this match. Those that care about the World Cup will already know, and those that haven't given a shite from the beginning, will no doubt care even less now. Suffice to say, Korea needed to secure a victory againt the Swiss. As previously reported, we planned to get into the spirit of things and dress up like buffoons, but in the end, I decided I couldn't wear a bandana for any occasion as they are possibly the most uncool item of clothing ever, apart from maybe those sad t-shirts in Dundee that inexplicably have things like "Scarface" with Pacino's image printed on them. I never understood those, but anyone wearing one was usually a twat, I know that much.

After the bandana desicion, we started drinking like maniacs and having fun painting flags on ourselves. Why does the South Korean flag ("Taegukgi") have to be so difficult? It was the one and only time we regretted not living in bastard Japan. If you've never looked closely, each of the 4 corner symbols are different, and considering the intricacies, I think I did a half decent job. Also, taking into account I was smashed by that point, hardly the steady hand of a surgeon!

After getting to a good level of drunkeness, we went to the bus stop, only to realise the last bus had already left for Seoul at 11pm. It's lucky our Korean is getting half decent, or we would have been standing there like red retards for half the night. This gave us a proper moment of panic, as we were fairly sure the last subway was at about 11.15, and getting a taxi all that way would be a fair dent in the wallet. With some quick thinking we nabbed a taxi to the subway station, narrowly making the last train, and taking our seats beside an army of Red bound for Seoul City Plaza.

Upon exiting Gyeongbokgung station, the first thing to greet our ears were the familiar chants of "Daehan Minguk". Only this time, it was a little different! You could tell that these disembodied voices hailed from almost a mile away from where we stood, but due to the sheer mass of people involved, the volume was mightily impressive. In a way, it was almost intimidating, like some kind of Red Godzilla laying waste to the City Hall area. The picture below was as we approached the crowds, and the sky was filled with spotlights and lasers. On the left you can see some big boards filled with post-it notes of support for the national team.



However, before joining this many-legged red beast taking over downtown, a more pressing matter was at hand. Two to be exact, where to find a toilet before I had a massive accident, and where to find more beer. You'd think that by finding one, you'd find the other, but not in Korea. Eventually, bladders emptied, we found a little Hof which appeared to be a converted loft-space, as you had to stoop down when you stood up in it. We were invited to join 3 Koreans, and share their fantastically disgusting "anju" (side dishes in bars). Always being up to a challenge, I chewed a fair whack of dried cuttlefish, but did not enjoy the little fish that you used to fish out of ponds and keep in a tupperware box when you were young. I did anyway. Just like bees and wasps in jam jars, seemed fun at the time. Anyway, this Korean lady, in between clinging to my arm far too much for comfort, took it upon herself to forcefeed me more fish, heads and all. The best thing about drinking with Koreans, is that you both understand each other more and more as you get drunker. It's always a quality laugh.



It was time to join the masses, and we still had a problem. It was only about 1am, three hours until kick-off, and we needed beer. Turns out there was no need to worry, as in amongst the estimated 1 million people sitting around, there were numerous beer-vendors. We stocked up on Hite (pictured below) and carried on into the belly of the beast. Trying not to stand on too many people on the way.


Below is an action shot. Either Lynne had a drunkenly unsteady hand, or these people were in as much of a rush as me to find some beer.


Now, we had presumed that there was only big screens at the one spot, outside City Hall. This made me question the reports of how many people had turned up for the previous games, as the area is big, but not THAT big. It turned out, there were about 15 massive screens, not just outside of City Hall, but at the start and end of EVERY downtown street as far as we could see. It was truly jaw-droppingly awesome. Walking between areas was fairly time consuming, and a combination of over-population, and lack of logic, led to some pretty dangerous congestion at some points, neccesitating some old school space-making moshpit tactics! Fortunately, the contingency plan of windmilling everyone with a carrier bag of Hite was never required, and we fought safely to a good vantage point. (Which was very close to a screen, not where the following pictures are taken from!)



As you expect here, everyone around us were very friendly, and kept us supplied with bland rice crackers and newspaper to sit on. It's hard to imagine 1 million pissed western people even sitting down together, let alone managing to enjoy an entire night with not one visible fight or harsh word between them. And, even as the final whistle sounded, and a wave of depression swept through the streets, there was no animosity directed at us or any of the other "Whiteys" milling around. Which is a good thing, because we already had to face "The World's Most Horrible Subway Journey!" for the next 40 minutes. It seemed like 5 hours. The hangover was so pounding, that in between dozing and drooling on some mans shoulder, I thought I was on a train to Hell. Below is a shot at 6am, hometime for the fans, and unfortunately, hometime for the team too.