Sad Day for Soccer

I went and watched the match against Uruguay, not at City Hall but at a place nearer to home. I figured it would save me a long subway ride back in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, the Coex Mall venue was a lot less fun than the City Hall one. At that first game, everyone had been on their feet, jostling for position and cheering wildly. This game was far more... civilized, which is not a good thing for a screening of an international sporting event. I mean, obviously no one wants riots in the streets, but the spectators there might as well have been at a picnic.


Everyone was sitting on mats strategically placed in the areas that afforded a view between the camera towers and equipment vans. There were security guards everywhere telling people to sit down. I had found a place where I could see the screen if I stood, but not if I sat. I didn't want to sit anyway, since it was raining pretty steadily and I didn't have a mat of my own to lay out. The guards kept coming around, so I just dropped a knee whenever I saw them to keep them off my back. Finally some girls offered me a space on their cardboard box so I could sit down. The box wasn't much drier than the street, but I had pretty much given up on staying dry by that point anyway.

When the match started, everyone just kind of sat there and waved their blow-up hands. If we had stood, we could have packed three times the people into the same space with room left over, and it would have been much more fun and wild. At the City Hall game, people sang cheers nonstop; here they started a few halfhearted cheers every once in a while, but they always died out quickly. Even when we scored a goal, everyone only stood up and screamed for about thirty seconds before settling back onto their mats. I couldn't believe it. Where was the energy?

Everyone was so controlled that I think I surprised the girls with whom I was sharing a that cardboard box. Before the game started, we politely exchanged countries of origin in our limited English/Korean before falling silent due to lack of vocabulary. Then once the match started, I began screaming my head off and yelling obscenities. Who knew I could get so worked up about sports? In my defense, we missed a ton of shots on goal and they all warranted more screaming than they got.

Another thing - for people who live in a place that has something called a "monsoon season," Koreans are pussies when it comes to rain. It was coming down intermittently through the whole game, but never enough to get really uncomfortable. I was wet, but not dripping. But everyone around me (and I mean everyone) was wearing a plastic poncho, and whenever the rain began sprinkling a little harder they would all pull up their hoods in unison while I shook my head in disbelief. A guy in front of me didn't have a poncho, so he put up his umbrella. He was holding it very low, so I let him get away with it at first, but when it started obstructing my view I threw empty beer cans at him until he put it down. Yeah, sorry I'm not doing anything to improve our reputation abroad, but for God's sake you don't put an umbrella up when there are people behind you trying to watch a game.

So as you probably know, we lost. So did the USA, I gather, so that's both of my teams knocked out of the running in one fell swoop. I guess this means I'd better start rooting for Argentina on behalf of V, even though they did whoop Korea's ass in the group round.

Another day of teaching at Wizville. There was a fire drill that no one warned me about; when the alarm went off I had to be peeled off the ceiling. It's been fun for a few days, but I don't think I'm cut out to teach toddlers. Somewhere along the line I lost my patience for screaming children.

Eun-hyuk and I have reached some kind of compromise. He seems to like me now (at least, he greets me happily when I come home and he asks where I'm going when I leave). I like him just fine as long as he keeps his hands off my stuff. He's allowed to sit with me and watch me use my computer, which he likes, but he has a three-strikes policy. If he reaches for my iPhone, cell, or computer keyboard, I'll swat his hand away three times before I kick him out of the room. He's free to come back, but if I kick him out three times I lock the door. The door is now locked, and after listening to him slam against it and scream for a while I've finally been left in peace. If I keep this up maybe he'll figure things out.

Sorry this has been a complain-a-thon today! I'm actually doing pretty well; I just enjoy bitching on my blog. I'm planning on visiting Suwon again soon, and I'd like to go to the DMZ before I leave. Once I'm done with my teaching duties I'll have more pictures to post, but right now I don't have a spare hand to wield my camera.