The 2002 World Cup was thirty magical days of thrills and spills for the international football community. For the South Koreans the World Cup was a revelation in sport and culture that touched down in ten magnificent venues. Paul S. Hendren explains with Patrick Dugas in Seoul.

ceptics about Asia’s first World Cup were having a field day pronouncing doom and gloom even before the first Adidas Fevernova ball had graced the splendid Kentucky blue grass of Seoul’s World Cup Stadium on the last day of May. 

How could a country that asked the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for assistance less than five years ago, stage such a prestigious event while at the same time saturate its own sporting landscape with ten brand new state-of-the-art football friendly stadia? How could a country, so tame in supporting the global game of bygone days, embrace the World Cup with the same vigour of the Europeans or the Latin Americans?
   

 Many pundits, leading up to football’s showcase, from the London Times to the New York Times, shuddered at the thought of staging the World Cup off the beaten track in a country recovering from an economic melt down. Someone forgot to tell the Koreans, who did everything in their power to demonstrate the true meaning of ‘Korea Team Fighting’ – a slogan that ran true from Incheon to Jeju, and all places in between, during a remarkable tournament that captured the imagination of anyone and everyone attached to the beautiful game. 

Incheon Stadium (58k), game day.

Kissing Cousins

It took several years of vociferous campaigning by two of Asia’s greatest rivals to convince the powerbrokers of FIFA to call the ‘Battle Royal’ a draw. During the hastily organised press conference in Zurich on May 31, 1996 former FIFA headmaster Joao Havelange announced to the world what many had been expecting all along – the 2002 World Cup would be shared by South Korea and Japan. Heated enemies on and off the football pitch would be forced to cooperate for the good of the game not to mention for a tad of self-preservation. Even when FIFA’s 21 member Executive Committee handed down their final verdict forcing Chung Mong Joon of Korea and Japan’s Ken Naganuma to publicly embrace one could sense that the years leading up to the 2002 Mundial might just turn into one of football’s grandest “pissing” contests. 

For the Koreans, many historically holding the self inflicted moniker as bridesmaids to the rich Japanese aristocrats, if you have to join them, then beat them and what better way to conquer your foes than to build magnificent sports monuments for the world to see. Weeks before the World Cup opened in Seoul a Samsung Economic Research Institute survey found that 50.4% of Koreans thought that – “the most important aspect of the World Cup is how it will boost South Korea’s image.” 
  

So it was off to the races for the proud South Koreans who subsequently poured 3 trillion won ($2.4 billion) into a series of magnificent football grounds. The residuals were ten brand new, purpose built stadiums in Korea as opposed to Japan’s eight. Korea had erected seven football-only stadia, in sharp contrast to Japan’s three and the international football community’s perception was that the Koreans had prevailed hands down in the wacky world of ‘one-upmanship’. For Korea the month long event was not just about football it was also a backdrop for a ‘CEO World Cup’ that brought more than 4,000 business officials to Korea and a ‘Cultural World Cup’ that marketed the cultural assets of a land steeped in tradition. 

Natural Harmony

Korean traditional architecture is mainly characterised by its harmony with local scenery and Koreans have been known for their special inclination towards nature, always finding a way to adapt to their environment. What set Korean World Cup stadia apart from facilities of bygone tournaments was the manner in which football grounds blended into the backdrop of their surroundings, never over powering their environments. 

The 42,256-seat Jeju World Cup Stadium situated in picturesque Seogwipo was recently described by UEFA President Lennart Johansson as one of the “most beautiful” football venues in the world. No flippant endorsement from a man who has a bevy of fine facilities at his doorstep. Looking down from Mt. Gogunsan (396 metres) on the northern side of Seogwipo, the new stadium seems like an island floating from the seashore. The design of the stadium fully embodies the traditions, culture and scenic beauty of the island. The stadium is best described as being in the shape of the small volcanic cones that dot the island. Its roof is reminiscent of a traditional Jejudo fishing boat, and the gentle lines of its entrance road resemble the road that leads to traditional Jeju House.

Design elements in the 64,728-capacity Seoul World Cup Stadium included traditional kite (symbolising hope, unity and peace in the new millennium), the ceremonial meal tray (reflecting hospitality to the international community) and the traditional sailboat (linking the stadium to the barges on the nearby Hwangpo river). 

Aside from Jeju and Seoul World Cup Stadia other Korean venues embodied the strong cultural aspects of Korea. Incheon Munhak Stadium, located a stone’s throw and subway ride from Seoul, was built on a 440,000-square metre site at the front of Mt. Munhaksan. The 50,000-seater has been inspired by a sail and mast, reflecting the maritime heritage of the port city. Gwangju World Cup Stadium has a dome like roof designed in a shape borrowed from the soft silhouettes of Mt. Mudeungsan, called the ‘Mother of Geangju’. 

Jeonju World Cup Stadium, a 43,000-seat football only facility, has a design inspired from the shape of a hapjukseon (traditional fan) with four huge columns that support the roof, resembling spirit poles that were traditionally placed at village entrances to protect the villagers from evil spirits. Even the heavily industrialised city of Ulsan was able to make Munsu Stadium blend into beautiful parkland complete with rolling hills, green space and a lake. The 68 masts that support the roof are no more imposing than the wildlife that finds sanctuary in the adjoining wetlands. 

Red Power

The splendour of South Korea’s spanking new football grounds was matched by the electricity generated by the Red Devils’ supporters network that produced one of the World Cup’s more memorable story lines in recent history. 
  
  

The English, the Brazilians or even the Argentinians may boast that they possess the true twelfth man helping their respective teams to victory but it was the Koreans who brought life to all the stadia they graced during a magical ride to the semi-finals. The Red Devils supporters club boasts a hard-core membership of 110,000, including South Korean President Kim Dae-jung, but their number multiplied thirty fold as the World Cup dragged on. In every Korean city the streets were packed with Red shirted supporters, factories and schools closed on game day, babies and pet dogs were dressed in red while old men cheered wildly on the streets. Young fans poured onto to the tops of buses and cars – which became platforms for the most brave yet the mood was never dampened by hooliganism or acts of public mischief. 

As the tournament wore on and the Korean team did its best imitation of David conquering Goliath the crowds in and around the Korean stadia swelled to unprecedented numbers as revellers demonstrated patriotism beyond recognition. South Korea, a country soaked in conservatism, suddenly became a place to celebrate – a nation uninhibited where young and old joined forces in a common purpose even allowing foreigners to partake in their fun. The energy that graced several football grounds in South Korea created tremors that could be heard in Korean cultural centres and restaurants that stretched from Los Angeles to Toronto. The samba beat of the Brazilians may have its place in football’s history books but the Korean chant of “dae han min guk” (Republic of Korea) was the unofficial anthem of the 2002 World Cup. 

Paul S. Hendren (left), a member of the International Sports Press Association and the Professional Soccer Reporters Association, is Associate Editor for Inside SOCCER Magazine. Patrick Dugas (below left), a self-confessed soccer nut who now calls South Korea home, is a feature writer for the same publication.

Seoul Food

By Patrick Dugas

It was a mystical month for this ‘cub’ reporter covering his first World Cup. I had spent several months absorbed in Korean culture leading up to opening night in Seoul, planning meticulously for my adventure with my bag filled with maps, phone numbers, cameras and my tried and trusted Korean/English dictionary. I attended thirteen matches, visited nine gorgeous stadia and partied with the masses, yet several highlights stood out.

Running late for the Korea vs. Portugal game at Munhak Stadium, my taxi driver was so enthused that I was wearing my “Korea Team Fighting” t–shirt that he refused payment. Take that to the bank cabbies of the world.

I watched three World Cup games in three days, completed the journey from Seoul to the Southern coast in Pusan and on the way even had time to try the ginseng and sulfur pools at the Bugok Hawaii Resort. Yes, covering the World Cup is a grind. (wink wink)

In and around the Munsu Football Stadium there appeared to be an abundance of supporters from Denmark and Uruguay. At closer inspection they were Koreans decked out in full regalia of their visitors. The truth be known: the Korean World Cup Organising Committee (KOWOC) trained the indigenous population on the customs of visiting supporters from chants to their national anthems. Kudos to KOWOC for adding to the flavour.

I missed the tenth stadium and one of the biggest games of the World Cup. It was in the City of Daejon for the Korea vs. Italy game. I was not able to finagle the time to see the game so my time was spent watching the game in Seoul with over a million of my closest Korean mates. What a sacrifice!

There was something very eerie about the massive crowds and celebrations by the Koreans but I never saw any injuries or criminal behaviour. After the Korea vs. Turkey consolation game I witnessed the unthinkable. A young Korean police officer was swept off his feet and tossed in the air as if he had scored the winning goal himself. As he was tossed about he lost his hat but after he returned to his feet a young Korean fan crawled out from the masses and respectfully presented it to the officer. Anywhere else in the world and the hat would be placed on someone’s mantle for display.

Curtain Calls

The 2002 World Cup is now part of football’s grand history, remembered for all the right reasons, but for the Korean people the celebration of sport is not about to end. From September 29 to October 14 the Asian Games will invade Busan – Korea’s majestic ocean city. Athletes representing forty-three Asian countries will converge on Busan not only to enjoy first class sporting amenities but also to take in the hospitality of a Korean people who now have a proven track record for welcoming the world with a warm embrace. The showcase of the Games will be Busan Asiad Main Stadium, a facility completed in July 2001, both for the Asian Games and the World Cup. The stadium, constructed on a 330,000-square-meter site with four stories above ground and one under, has a seating capacity of 54,534 people. Its grand roof, reminiscent of the open sky and giant ocean waves, symbolises the high spirit of the sun rising over the land, and its 48 arches and a deck that surrounds the dome, signifies the city’s openness.

The 22nd Universiade will be staged in Daegu Korea from August 21 to 31, 2003. The Summer Universaide is a sports festival specifically for university students and athletes from 170 countries are scheduled to converge on Daegu competing in thirteen sports. The upcoming games will utilise Daego World Cup Stadium, used for the 2002 Mundial as well as Exco Daego, an exhibition and convention centre, Daegu Citizen Gymnasium and the Duryu Diving Pool. 

After Thoughts

The debate could rage on for years to come. Was it all worth it? Was building those splendid ballparks, investing in that elusive World Cup jackpot, the right formula to propel an economy back to the golden days of Asian might and power. Could the strength of the South Korean people overcome the predictions of many economic analysts who warned that going for broke with ten new expensive football facilities would result in one serious hangover?

One of the biggest beneficiaries of the World Cup has been the K-League – Korea’s answer to big league pro football. The World Cup fever that swept across South Korea resulted in record crowds entering through the turnstiles at several new homes for K-League teams. Baseball, traditionally Korea’s national past time, had been quickly replaced by professional football (soccer), which has gobbled up the spotlight. 

As for the splendid Seoul World Cup Stadium (a facility without a full-time football tenant) its legacy will spearhead the development of a new suburb in Seoul known as Nanjido – the Orchid Island City. Amenities within the stadium, which include a ten screen movie theatre complex, large discount stores, swimming pools, fitness centres and restaurants will be the focal point of this newly developed community. The Seoul Metropolitan Government is pushing to see Nanjido become a model for the whole of Korea in terms of energy conservation and recycling, as the houses, offices and parkland will be constructed on reclaimed land that was formerly a garbage dump. 

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