Winter is once again extending its tendrils of freezing wind south towards Jinbu again. I know this because I almost freeze to death every time I cross the river here. This impacts my life in three ways. One, I change back to my winter wardrobe of jumper, shirt and suit trousers (I almost typed 'pants' there, ick) from the plo shirt and chinos I attempted to beat the summer heat with. Two, I once more start to eat a weekly rotation of soup and stews, doenjang-jiggae (soy bean paste stew), kimchi-jiggae (fermented cabbage stew) and mandu-guk, so for a fortnight I repeatedly make bad Will Smith puns whilst cooking. Three, the cold drives all of my summer annual football buddies back inside to get fat, leaving me slogging away in the gym alone. I've just been for my first visit and it is, to put it bluntly, flipping depressing, though it doesn't really help that I work out to The Antlers.
Of course, football seasons don't just peter out, they usually finish with an FA Cup or Champions League final. Pyeongchang has it's own equivalent - the 노성제 (No-seong-jae), which I'd like you to believe is roughly equivalent. It's basically the end of season tournament for all of the towns in our area to compete at football, volleyball, dodgeball and traditional Korean wrestling.
As is becoming de rigeur for my Korean sporting endeavours, I suffer from problems with eating. Wary of the last tournament I played in I thought I would try to manage my social and sporting eating needs a bit better this time. I was strictly instructed not to eat breakfast as we'd be eating together as a team. Fair enough, I thought, making do with a banana milk before I left the house. We drive the 45 minutes down to Pyeongchang and then spend an hour or so messing around setting stuff up. Still no breakfast. The time ticks past 9.30. "What time's the first game?" I ask? "Not until 11 o'clock" comes the reply. "Shouldn't we eat then?" I ask. "In a bit". This is one area in which there is a complete lack of understanding between me and my team-mates. They can't figure out why I don't want to eat a meal an hour before I play football, and I can't figure out how they don't throw up every time they play. I reflect on this as I watch them wolf down big bowls of rice, while I fish the pieces of meat out of my soup and pick at a few vegetable side-dishes at what is now almost 10 o'clock. Still, at least there'll be lunch after the first game.
This being Korea, nothing can start without a great deal of ceremony and general poncing about. I do kind of enjoy it, but the procession was still streaming into the stadium half an hour after it started. I dread to think what the Olympics is going to be like if this much fuss was made over a county sports day. Have a look at the pictures below and see for yourself. Oh and yes, that is a dead wild boar.
I hate waiting for stuff to happen. I take after my father in this way, who would happily drive an alternative route taking three times as long than sit in a traffic jam. It must show on my face too, as my friend takes me off for some "medicine" which apparently helps calm you down. It largely has the effect of making me worry about having to give a urine sample later. Still, things get better once we start to warm up.
After a quick performance from the high school orchestra (below), it's time to take to the field. It occurs to me that this is by far the biggest crowd I've ever played in front of, probably numbering 1,000 people for the first game. I'm pretty sure that I'm the first foreigner to play in this tournament ever, and the crowd are extremely supportive, cheering every time I touch the ball (at least I think they were cheering, for all I know they were telling me to piss off back to England). 
They don't actually cheer that much at first though, as I touch the ball about twice in the first half. This is mostly due to to the strange 3-3-4 formation that teams here seem to favour. This involves a defensive midfielder playing directly in front of a back three with strict instructions not to advance up the pitch. In fact, it often involves picking up a spare centre forward. However, as almost every team plays this formation it leaves me free a lot of the time, but able to have almost no influence on the game as every time we get the ball it's hoofed gleefully forward. To be fair, this is not a bad tactic as our forwards seem to be all over their defenders, and we manage to create and spurn a host of good chances. 0-0 at half time.At half time I throw Confucian ideals to the side and tell the coach that there's plenty of space in front of me which I could quite easily be in. To my surprise, he actually agrees. Still, the half starts in the pattern as the previous one - lots of long passing, lots of chances, no goals. Finally, I get a chance to actually do something as my midfield colleague finally plays a short ball inside, allowing me to slip away from my marker, carry the ball ten yards forward and slip it through for a centre-forward to run free and finally take a chance. 1-0. That rather breaks the opposition's resolve and two minutes later we're ahead 2-0 thanks to a header from a corner. At that point I revert to my almost centre-back role. We get one more from a long ball forward and run out 3-0 winners.
Time for lunch I think, and not before time. At least I can get a bit of a feed in before the next game. We all sit down and a small tortilla-ish wrap (about two inches long) and a boiled egg each are produced. And that's it. There are times when I really, really don't understand this country.The second game I don't recall quite so well. I remember them being a technically decent side and our defence doing a sterling job. The game would have been a very even contest were it not for their keeper making two clownish errors (conceding from a free kick 40 yards out and then dropping a corner) in the first half to hand us a two goal lead. Once again, we shut up shop admirably and close out the game. The big problem is that 10 minutes from time I get cramp due to the complete lack of food in my body, with no substitutes left I'm forced to wander around up front aimlessly.
Our third and final match is an all or nothing affair against the neighbouring valley, who have looked by far the best team in the tournament. Seemingly able to stroke it around in midfield at will, they are going to be a tough proposition. Now, to my mind the best thing to do here would be to try to maintain a bit of possession, keep our tired legs from too much running and try to sneak a goal somewhere. Not to the rest of my team, who continue to hurl it long. This time though, every time we cough up possession we chase after it again for several minutes. Funnily enough though, we actually take the lead, our midfielder scoring with an unstoppable shot from about 30 yards. Still, I feel like the victory is a long way away.We go into half-time a little late due to a series of fouls by both teams, culminating in a scuffle (they started it, honest) and one of their supporters racing on to the pitch to try to fight the referee. The second half begins much as the first ended, us with no possession and soon the inevitable happens, due to some idiotic defending giving away a free kick on the edge of the box which is dispatched into the top corner. At 1-1 it's still pretty even, but then our legs start to give out. I get cramp in both calves at the same time, but by this point there are no more substitutes so I get stretched out and am sent back on. Sadly, just as I do get back on, a neat passing move cuts open our defence and we go 2-1 down. That's pretty much it for the game too. Jinbu legs are too tired to mount a comeback, and the oppo take the game and the tournament.
I do at this point have to say a huge thank you to the Jinbu team, and the tournament organisers for a really great day, despite the unfavourable result. I also won 50,000 won (about 30 quid) for something or other, which was nice. I'm assuming it was best foreign player. Anyway, I had a great time, made a lot of friends and didn't have to go to school thanks to a fax from the town hall to the school. After all that, I can't really count myself a loser.I've been trying to finish this post for ages, and it's late so I'm putting it up unproofed. If the writing and spelling is worse than usual please accept my apologies.
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