'Hopping my way to a Futbology badge | OneFootball

Two years after belatedly acquiring my coveted Futbology completed K1 badge, last weekend I added K League 2* to my list of honors, thereby doubling the badges I have. It was a double-header weekend, starting at the Dragon Dungeon and finishing at Gudeok Stadium.

The journey began at 10am Sunday morning at Gwangmyeong KTX station. As readers in Korea will be aware, this is a holiday week, when seemingly the entire country is off. The previous day, every single flight from Seoul to Jeju was sold out. There wasn't a seat to be found. Anyone making a late decision to visit the island was required to pay up to 500,000₩ and endure a short layover in Busan.

Gwangmyeong station was chaotic. Families with suitcases boarded trains for Gwangju, Busan, Yeosu, and Pohang. All I needed was a backpack; a tumbler for all the coffee, earphones to drown out the sounds of screaming kids on the train bound for Yeosu, a laptop for Jeonnam Dragons, and a towel for Busan. As I stood on platform 2 watching train 507 approaching, I had regrets.Just think about the badge.

Traveling by intercity train or bus in Korea is a fascinating experience. Once you head south of Daejeon, you wiz by the countryside so stunning it forces you to return in the future. Heavily forested mountains dominate on either side of flood plains featuring wonderful wide rivers, flanked by bike lanes. There are beautiful bridges, camping spots, and traditional houses to marvel at. Yet, the blinds are down and everyone is asleep. The view of, say, Imsil-gun (a place I'd never heard of), is spectacular.

My plan was this; media section at Jeonnam Dragons vs. Seoul E-Land FC. Before kick-off, they stood 2nd and 3rd respectively in the table. FC Anyang had opened a five-point gap on Jeonnam the previous night. Seoul E-Land, meanwhile, were now 12 points off first, seven behind Jeonnam, and in danger of dropping out of the playoff spots altogether with a loss. At this juncture, it looks like a straight shoot-out between Anyang and Jeonnam Dragons for automatic promotion, and one from seven for the last playoff relegation spot.

Osmar at the full-time whistle. Would the K League legend be available for an interview?

Why the media section? A pre-match pitchside interview with Osmar. Because of the tight turnaround after the game, it was unlikely Osmar or anyone at Seoul would have time for a chat at the end of the game. They were heading straight back home. I also had to make it to Suncheon that night, to get the early bus to Busan. And the only way to make it to Suncheon in good time was to take the final train of the day from Gwangyang 40 minutes after the final whistle.

Busan IPark vs. Chungbuk Cheongju was to be my celebration game. A seat among the people, cracking a cold beer after a day's swimming to celebrate Futbology badge number 2. Given I'm nowhere near a K3 or K4 badge, this would likely be the last major badge obtained for a few seasons. Gwangyang is a little out of the way, but given I lived in Gwangju previously, it is a shame I had to wait 15 years to visit the Dungeon.

As for Busan......! Let's call it an embarrassment. I have visited Busan dozens of times; with family, and friends, for partying and baseball. I even caught the horse racing racing in Gimhae. But never Busan IPark (or any of their previous iterations) or Transportation. A tragedy. But it was finally time to right that wrong. For whatever reason, I've seen Cheongju so often that I'm now their #1 ranked fan on Futbology. They're a nice club, though, with good supporters and really helpful media staff.

Eventually, I reached Namwon Station somewhere in the Jeolla Province. Looking out the window, there was a strong sense of heat! With no rain forecast and little cloud cover, my Irish skin was going to be tested over the next couple of days. At this exact moment, a warning notification popped up. Extreme heat until 4pm. Gwangyang is by the coast, maybe it won't be so bad, I consoled myself.

I arrived at Gwangyang Station at 2pm. As my interviewees mentioned in a recent article about the K League community, visiting towns off the beaten track is one of the great positives of picking a club. Gwangyang might not be a small fishing village of 50 people, but the city's train station couldn't be any more different from my departure station. I was the only person to alight the Mugungwha that was bound for Busan.

The countryside by Gwangyang Station is sublime.

Two giant fans welcomed me and then I was out in the open, through the station's only exit. There was no line of taxis or families meeting relatives. There wasn't even an employee to bow to. But once you're through the doors, it is typically gorgeous Korean countryside. I passed a couple of farmers but otherwise, the only noise came from water sprinkles and cicadas. Every time I visit the Korean countryside, I imagine living in this small community; buying a small house, growing vegetables, and spending the rest of my life watching the seasons and the years slip by. It is idyllic and perfect but nowhere near (50 minutes to be exact) central Gwangyang.

The number 2 bus is supposed to stop by but the service is infrequent. The only way to reach City Hall is by bus 2 then a transfer. Bus 2 had just departed so there was no other option but to walk. This was not the day for walking but the scenery made it pleasant at least.

Sunday was indeed extremely hot and humid, and this was mentioned by both managers and several players before and after the game. Arriving at a new stadium, typically 90 minutes early, I love walking around the exterior taking photos, checking out the club store, and seeing if anything is interesting to observe. After looking through Jeonnam's typically overpriced and limited stock, I continued walking south. This is when I met the band. The Jeonnam Band. With flags and musical instruments, they attempted to whip up local support.

Who doesn't love floodlights outside the stadium walls?

The next time I saw them was when the players arrived. This was immediately after Seoul E-Land had done their walk around the ground banging their drums. With both teams now inside, and supporters milling through the turnstiles, it was time to enter. This is when the K League 2 experience really kicks in. "Hi. Where's the media section?" I asked a young, male employee. "I don't know," he replied. I've heard it all before. He gestured towards a side door. As soon as I entered, I saw the Referee's Room which, bizarrely, had glass walls.

Later on, to another employee, "Where are the media seats?" The answer was the same. Luckily the Media Officer spotted one of only four journalists (and the only foreigner) looking lost in the baking heat. "This way!" My dream of a pre-match preview with Osmar had been scuttled but he would be available after the match, I was assured. I reminded the club of my own predicament but this was the only way. Jeonnam confirmed their Uzbek centreback Mukhammadali Alikulov doesn't speak English but this allowed me rare entrance to the pre-match conference where I even asked a question to Lee Jang-kwan.

Jeonnam are gold standard! Half the matchday staff might not know where you're supposed to be, but at an official level, Jeonnam is on point. They even sent a translator to follow me around even though I speak Korean. Seoul E-Land, to their credit, are equally outstanding to deal with. After a breathless 2-2 draw (the best game I've seen in 2024), Osmar appeared for his interview as promised. Jeonnam Dragons and Seoul E-Land: rivals for the title, and rivals for most obliging clubs.

The purple night falls over industrial Gwangyang.

The question I asked Jeonnam manager Lee was if he thought on a weekend of unglamorous fixtures in K League 1, the table-topping clash would be a good reminder to football fans of the quality in K League 2. Lee admitted more attention goes to K League 1 but his division has some outstanding technical players "and he's proud of the league." His team salvaged a late point but this was the best game I've seen in 2024. Manager Lee was right.

12 stadiums down, one to go. Bedtime.

Saturday's ride to Busan was aboard a luxurious bus originating in Yeosu. The mega liners closely resemble modern aircraft inside. You have your own TV, a tray table, charging ports, and reclinable seats. But flying Korean Air in woeful turbulence would have felt considerably safe as the driver swallowed up the kilometers at dangerously high speeds. The average journey time from Suncheon to Busan Nopo is 2 hours 20 minutes. We did it inside two hours, with a stop.

Luckily, we were alive. Now it was time to hit the beaches.

Gwangali without the people.

As I sat on the hot sand at Gwangali, looking out over the magnificent bridge and the throngs of people enjoying their one-week vacation, I wondered how many even knew there was a game on, let alone considered going. Busan, like Gwangju, is a city that loves its local baseball club. The popularity is huge and even though Lotte Giants are struggling near the foot of the table, a weekend attendance of less than 20,000 would be a surprise.

Clearly, beach activities don't play a crucial role in the pre-game entertainment. I didn't see a single IPark fan until I had exited the subway. If the club or supporters' groups could manufacture a way in which the beach plays a role in pre-match festivities, it would be special. Obviously, I have no helpful suggestions just a thought. Nevertheless, it was approaching 6pm and I had a train to catch.

The view of the stadium from approaching roads.

I've been to South America, specifically La Paz, and something about Gudeok reminded me of Bolivia's capital city. Okay, the stadium was empty, and the color was concrete, but the mixture of high-rise apartments, cramped, traditional housing, and domineering mountains was unmistakably South American. The exterior walls are decorated with tens of thousands of different-sized tiles representing musical intersects, animals, bridges, and sports.

Along the east stand, tall trees blocked the sunlight overhead. At no point did the walk from the way end to the home end feel quintessential Korea. Gudeok is dripping with history. It opened during the Japanese occupation in 1928 and still hosts two teams. Renowned global stars like Jurgen Klinsmann (yeh, him again) and Ciro Ferrera are just two of the players laced up here during the '88 Olympics. If this stadium were in Europe, history would be front and center. Instead, we were showered with, admittedly pretty, mosaics.

The exterior of Busan Gudeok Stadium.

I made the last-minute decision to sit with the away fans. I quite like Chungbuk Cheongju. It might be their sharp navy and red home kit, or the NNN flags, or the chants, but apart from checking Suwon's results, I tend to keep an eye out for Cheongju. I don't think they have a realistic chance of going up, but they'll be close and will shock teams above them as summer fades to fall.

I don't care about sports in Busan. Last season's implosion was so horrendously bad I wonder why people bother. And given my baseball allegiance to the Tigers, who have a long-running rivalry with Lotte, I'd decided every team representing Busan would be the enemy. Cheonju didn't arrive in big numbers. 50 is probably accurate. But they sang, chanted, and cheered for 90 minutes. They were rewarded with a vital 2-0 win.

A day trip to remember for the traveling fans.

Aside from smelling history andmourning in a sporting arena struck by tragedy, Gudeok isn't worth a second visit. The running track is abysmal. We couldn't hear the Pride of Pusan and I suspect neither could the home fans. But it'll always be the stadium where I saw the 13th and final K League 2 home game.

Here's a photo of my badge:

*I did not receive my badge because Futbology only counts Busan Asiad as IPark's home ground. Still, I have awarded myself the badge in a secret ceremony behind closed doors, attended by nobody.