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| Courtesy of Gabriel Bassino |
By David Tizzard
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When Hwang Hee-chan smashed the ball into the back of the net, the team, the country, the fans went crazy. This was more than a goal. It was more than 3 points. And more than another victory over Portugal on football's biggest stage. It was catharsis. It was ecstasy. It was that national dopamine that the country has come to expect from its cultural outputs of late. From Grammys to Billboards, it now wanted its sports players to remind the world just what South Korea is all about.
It was fitting that it didn't come from Son. If South Korea were to achieve anything at the tournament, it would be through a united squad trusting in each other. Hwang had missed the first two games through injury and only managed a 30-minute cameo here. The defensive monster Kim Min-jae missed the game entirely because of his own injury. And the country's new number one heartthrob, Cho Gue-sung, had had a quiet game up front. Even the South Korean manager, the Portuguese Paulo Bento, was up in the stands following his red card in the previous game. In so many ways, this was about more than an individual. This was about the squad. This was about the nation.
It of course nearly wasn't that way. All eyes quickly turned to the match between Uruguay and Ghana. The Uruguayans had survived an early penalty scare and then taken Ghana slowly apart with smart finishing and astute play up front. Luis Suarez had gotten into the African players' heads, using all his tricks to frustrate, cajole, and influence the game. The South Americans were two-nil up and heading through to the last 16. Yet as news came through of Hwang's goal, Suarez suddenly looked distraught. Having been substituted earlier in the match believing the work to have been done, he was now hopelessly looking on from behind his jersey. He was crying because his World Cup dreams were over. The South Korean players were crying because their dreams were still alive.
And cry they did.
Courses in Korean Studies often look at the differences in attitudes towards beauty, individualism, plastic surgery, drugs, democracy, history, and other such factors. There's room to look at how football unfolds here too. It's the same as everywhere else, just more so. In the post-match interviews captain Son Heung-min was crying as he spoke to Korean reporters. The nation's captain is not a stoic and reserved modern athlete trained in media communication and cliches. He is someone that feels what it means to represent his country.
After their defeat to Ghana, players were apologizing to the nation and the citizens of the country. It wasn't enough to simply say they had given it a good go, scored a couple of great goals, but ultimately come undone. Instead they were 'national representatives'. They had let the country down by not winning. They had to say sorry for not bringing victory to Korea. When you watch such interviews in Korean on Korean television, you get a sense of the weight of expectation around these players. Just how much pressure and stress is placed on them: 51 million eager citizens cheering them on…but, importantly, also expecting great results. Few sporting experts were expecting them to get through this group, yet it's that drive, that determination, the competitive nature, and that feeling that they should be the best that continues to come through at all levels of society.
When I show my students global soft-power rankings with South Korea in 10th place, they look at me somewhat confused. "Professor," they ask, "Why aren't we number one? Is the data wrong or something?" It's not enough to just be good. In South Korea, you have to be the best. Last night, in Qatar and in Seoul, they felt that way. They will go into their next game against Brazil, for many favorites to win the tournament, with another sense of expectation. And I will be supporting them again. Korea Fighting!
Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the Korea Deconstructed podcast, which can be found online. The views expressed in the article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.
