Go You Spurs!

I have never been to a pro soccer game. To be completely honest, I think it's kind of a dumb sport with not nearly enough scoring (although who does't love tie games?) and I fail to understand the rest of the world's obsession with it when baseball and basketball and curling are far more exciting. Reports that my antipathy towards soccer can be directly linked to the day in first grade when Chris Hegarty kicked me in the shins could not be confirmed.

Soccer is really popular in Korea, however, since they co-hosted the World Cup in 2002. And so when I learned that a soccer tournament called the Peace Cup was to be held here during my stay, I figured I should go. The Peace Cup is an eight-team tournament contested by clubs from a bunch of different countries. They've been playing some sort of elimination tournament for the past week or so, and yesterday was the final match, between the Tottenham Hotspur of England (motto: "Go You Spurs!") and Olympique Lyonnias of France (motto: "Ow! Not in the face!").

The game was sold out, but because the Korean team failed to make the final, tickets were readily available from scalpers. In fact, we were able to get our seats at a discount, paying a little more than half price for two seats up in the stratosphere. Undaunted, and motivated by a desire to promote cross-cultural understanding, we introduced the American custom of "sneaking downstairs into the good seats" to Korean society. I await the call of the Nobel Peace Prize committee.

Not knowing anything about either of the two teams, my friend and I decided to root for Tottenham. Our reasoning was twofold. First, how can you not root for a team called the "Hotspur?" And second, we couldn't possibly support a team from a country that hates freedom.

Turns out we made the right call. The Brits absolutely dominated the first half, scoring two goals about 5 minutes apart and then a third one with about ten minutes remaining in the half. The second goal came on a chip shot over the French goalie who did not even try to stop it and seemed only vaguely aware that a soccer game was taking place. This stood in marked contrast to the English goalie who may have supplanted Takeru Kobayashi as the greatest athlete of my lifetime. This guy was an absolute beast. He was jumping, diving, and putting on an absolute show, making magnificent save after magnificent save. Bear in mind that the French players were kickinig the the ball very hard. And yet instead of doing what any sensible person would have done and getting the hell out of the way, this guy actually moved towards the ball. Inspiring.

Down 3-0 to begin the second half, Olympique Lyonnais found itself in the most dire straits faced by a Frenchman since Jean Valjean. I assumed they would simply play out the half and go home. But to the surprise of all, the French refused to surrender (raise your hand if you think I didn't make that joke 50 times throughout the half). They kept up the attack, and even secured a penalty kick at one point, which they converted to make it 3-1. They kept up the effort for the rest of the half, but the Brits held them off to take the title. Still, a valliant effort. I almost felt bad about trying to teach the Korean kids sitting in my section to call them "cheese-eating surrender monkeys."

A few final notes and observations:

--I've decided that, as a whole, I don't like soccer players. Way too many of them fake like they're hurt and then "gamely" continue on. On three separate occassions, a player went down and called for a stretcher to take him off. Once on the sideline, he stood up and then re-entered the game. You should have to have either a broken bone (and a big one, not just one of the little ones in your foot) or have lost a leg completely to warrant a stretcher. Here's the rule I propose: if you leave the field, you can only return and keep playing using the same method you used to leave. So if you walk off under your own power, you can come back on, but if you get stretchered off, the four guys who bore the stretcher need to carry you around for the rest of the game. Once you're off your feet, you're off your feet.
--Like in baseball, nobody boos. So even when the French goalie pulled a Manny Ramirez and ignored the shot going over his head, the French fans (or rather, the Korean contingent rooting for the French) just cheered louder and banged their thunderstix together.
--Oh, that's right. They have thunderstix too. And dried squid.

Anyway, overall it was a very exciting day, made all the more enjoyable by the fact that I did not spontaneously combust, the sweltering heat notwithstanding. The good guys won, freedom prevailled and I gained a slight degree of respect for soccer, even though I think the players are a bunch of (expletive deleted). Well worth the 15,000 won.