A love letter to Korea원문과 그 요약

SEOUL -- Well, that settles it. From here on out, you can call me an honorary Korean-American. This is my 32nd straight day in this country, and it's still providing no end of amazements. Not just on the soccer field, either -- though South Korea's miraculous run to Tuesday's semifinal against Germany is an irresistible story -- but in everyday life.

Today, for example, I was waiting in the rain at a crosswalk here. Suddenly a middle-aged Korean man walked over, smiled and held his umbrella above my head. Last week a colleague told me a story about how she had collapsed into a subway seat one night after a game. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, only to feel a sensation on her right shoulder. The elderly Korean woman sitting next to her was giving her a massage. After that, she softly sang a lullaby in her ear.

Understand, back in December I was disappointed when I learned the U.S. team would be based in this country instead of in Japan. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was the food. Maybe Seoul somehow seemed less intriguing than Tokyo. Maybe I was just a little ignorant.

The fact is, I couldn't have been more wrong -- or more lucky. I always tell my Argentine friends that I wish I had been there in 1978 when the streets filled with joy after the home side won the World Cup. Before this year's tournament, I felt a loss knowing that I wouldn't experience the festive atmosphere that reigned in France when Les Bleus hoisted the Cup four years ago.

Wrong again. While taking the night off from work last Tuesday, I caught the South Korea-Italy match with an SI editor (and fellow soccer nut) at The 3 Alleys pub in Itaewon, Seoul's Yank-friendly entertainment district. The place was full. Half of the denizens were Koreans, and half were Anglos rooting for Korea. When Ahn Jung-Hwan's overtime header sent the Italians packing, this city erupted. Streets filled. Fireworks lit up the night. At Gecko's tavern afterward, Koreans and non-Koreans alike danced on chairs to the music of Bryan Adams and Bon Jovi. It was even more memorable than the night on the Champs-Elysées when I waded through two million victorious Gauls -- and this was after a second-round win.

(I'm still bitter that I was on deadline for the magazine this past weekend and missed the festivities after South Korea eliminated Spain in the quarters. Must have been off the hook again.)

I'm leaving the peninsula in two days, and you know what? If South Korea makes the World Cup final, I'll be watching the game at a stadium in Japan, wishing all the while that I were back in Seoul with the most fervent, good-hearted fans you'll ever see. Who knows? It may be Argentina '78 all over again.

What do I love about Korea? I love ...

... the way sweat starts beading on my scalp the second I swallow a bite of kimchi (which tastes way better than you'd think).

... the style of the South Korean team. Not only are they relentless, but they're also skilled and tough, and they know how to come back. (Ask the U.S. and Italy.) Have they gotten some breaks from the referees? Maybe, but guess what that's called? Home-field advantage, folks. The Koreans deserve to be in the semis, and all the whining Europeans should sit down and shut up.

(Does anyone think Duke doesn't deserve to win so much just because the Blue Devils get a lot of calls? No. I rest my case.)

... the soccer commentators for Korea's SBS network, who turn a game, any game, into high theater. In Korean, ne (sounds like nay) means yes. This still confuses the heck out of me, but it leads to a hilarious description of the action that goes like this:

Commentator 1: Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Commentator 2: NAY!

Commentator 1: Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Commentator 2: NAY!

Commentator 1: Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Commentator 2: NAY!

And so on. The SBS guys groan whenever a player, whatever his nationality, screws up, and scream over each other when the South Koreans score a goal. They even started to cry on the air after their quarterfinal victory. It's blatant homerism, of course, and yet here it's somehow endearing.

... how the masses of Koreans watching games in public squares pick up their own litter afterwards.

... the Korean fans' BE THE REDS T-shirts and KOREA TEAM FIGHTING scarves. (And while we're at it, the USA TEAM FIGHTING T-shirts I saw on Yank fans.)

... Ahn's speed-skating celebration following his goal against the U.S. (Wait: Sorry, that was bush league, pal. A question to ponder: What if Clint Mathis had done the same after his goal?)

... how the Korean organizers stocked the media center with fluorescent "happy lights" and free sports massages. (Let's just say this didn't happen in France.)

... Park Ji-Sung. The guy whose jaw-dropping goal against Portugal opened the door for the U.S. to reach the second round should have his own little spot at the U.S. Soccer Hall of Fame. Most Korean fans have Ahn Jung-Hwan on the backs of their jerseys. (He's their pinup version of David Beckham.) Me, I'm going to get a Park Ji-Sung shirt.

... the scene outside my hotel. Since the South Korean team moved in the other day, masses of fans and media have been gathering outside around the clock. As I carried my bag full of dirty laundry outside today, I got an ovation. Why? Who knows? Just realize, my new Korean friends, that I return that ovation to you.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Grant Wahl covers soccer for the magazine and will contribute frequently to CNNSI.com throughout the World Cup tournament.

▼다음은 요약▼

"이제 나를 명예 한국계 미국인으로 불러달라. 한국에 머무른지 32일째지만 축구경기장에서 뿐만 아니라 일상 생활에서도 한국이 주는 놀라움은 끝이 없다.

오늘 횡단 보도에서 비를 맞고 서 있는데 한 중년 남성이 다가와 미소를 지으며 우산을 씌워줬다. 지난주에 한 동료 여기자는 피곤에 지쳐 지하철 안에서 잠시 잠을 청하고 있을 때 옆에 앉은 한국 여성에게 안마를 받은 경험담을 들려줬다.

지난해 12월 미국팀이 일본이 아닌 한국에서 경기하게 된 데 대해 솔직히 실망했었다. 지금 와서 생각하니 행운이었다. 나는 항상 아르헨티나 친구들에게 '1978년에 너희 나라에 있었으면 얼마나 좋았을까'하고 얘기하곤 했다. 그해 아르헨티나 월드컵에서 아르헨티나가 우승했을 때 거리는 기쁨으로 넘쳤다. 이번 월드컵에서는 4년전 프랑스가 프랑스 월드컵에서 우승했을 때 프랑스 전역에 역시 흘러넘쳤던 축제 분위기를 기대하지 않았다.

또 틀렸다. 동료와 함께 이태원의 술집에서 한국-이탈리아전을 봤다. 술집은 만원이었다. 안정환이 연장전에서 헤딩으로 골든골을 넣자 서울은 폭발했다. 거리는 사람들로 메워졌고 불꽃놀이가 벌어졌다. 이는 4년전 200만이 모인 프랑스 샹젤리제 거리의 분위기를 능가했다.

한국의 어떤 점을 사랑하냐고? 김치를 한입 베어 물고 넘겼을 때 머리에서 땀이 나기 시작하는 것을 사랑한다.

한국 축구팀의 경기 스타일을 사랑한다. 이들은 투지가 있을 뿐만 아니라 기술이 뛰어나고 강인하다. 무엇보다 수비로 전환하는데 뛰어나다. 심판이 봐줬다고? 그럴지도 모른다. 그래서 '홈그라운드 잇점'이라는 말이 있는 거다. 한국은 4강전에 진출할만 했다. 그러니 유럽인들은 그만 징징대라.

SBS 방송의 축구 해설자들을 사랑한다. 이들은 경기를 오락으로 승화시켰다. 이들은 한국이 골을 넣으면 서로에게 고함을 쳐대며 8강전에서 한국이 승리했을 때는 심지어 울음까지 터뜨린다. 떠들썩하지만 사랑스럽다.

광장을 가득채운 한국인들이 경기가 끝난 뒤 앉았던 깔개를 치우는 것을 사랑한다.

한국 축구팬들의 '붉은 악마' '필승 코리아' T셔츠를 사랑한다.

안정환이 미국전에서 골을 넣은 뒤 한국 선수들의 '오노 세리머니'를 사랑한다.

박지성을 사랑한다. 박지성이 포르투갈전에서 터뜨린 '경악할만한' 결승골은 결국 미국의 16강 진출을 가능케 했다. 미국은 '축구 명예의 전당'에 박지성을 위한 자리를 마련해야 할 것이다."

미국 캔자스시티에서 태어난 왈 기자는 프린스턴 대학에서 정치학을 전공했으며 1996년 스포츠 일러스트레이티드에 입사해 대학농구와 축구를 담당하고 있다.

<김성규기자 kimsk@donga.com>