RED TIDE

Sunday, 13 June 2010. If you think World Cup mania reaches a fever-pitch in Toronto, along College Street for instance, or St. Clair West, think again. South Korea played its first game last night, and in the hours leading up to it a red tide swept over the city: thousands of fans wearing red t-shirts of many designs, waving red scarves, hats, banenrs noisemakers, were everywhere. their enthusiasm wildly infectious and lots more fun than a flu virus. We’re on the lookout for our own red t-shirts because we’re definitely fans of the Korean team now.

We were downtown with our friend Nancy after the Pride Parade as red washed through the streets and alleys. Nancy led us to a Korean barbecue restaurant, commenting that the place would empty out quickly as people left to claim space in front of one or another of the giant outdoor television screens mounted all over downtown. And she was right—in about half an hour we were the sole (!) diners still there while the staff settled at a table near us and ate their own meal. But I’m not blogging about food here—though it was fabulous—but mania.

When we strolled out of the restaurant alley onto Cheonggyecheon it was twilight and we had to thread our way around sidewalk tables crammed close together and sheltered (somewhat) under awnings, with red shirts all facing towards televisions. Many people sported illuminated red devil’s horns—“Red Devils” was the original name of the cheering squad for the South Korean Soccer Team. Now they are known simply as “The Reds”, in deference to Christian discomfort at alignment with a devil of any colour.

With other walkers we headed towards City Hall and Seoul Square, the most desired spot to be. The crowd thickened till we were worming our way through a surging mass of people (astonishingly, no pushing or cursing), as we snaked behind bleachers completely jammed. Occasionally over heads we could glimpse a football field on a huge screen. Rain misted down, noise crescendoed, more and more people crammed onto the narrow walk, lights made misty halos, it was harder and harder to keep moving. When we made it to a street crossing opposite a subway station, we headed downstairs for the train. But that didn’t free us from the red tide. Hawkers of all sorts were lined up on the stairs and along the sides of the passageway, their noise and excitement almost as extreme as at the Square. We were offered t-shirts, noisemakers, banners, souvenirs, Cass Beer (“that’s so illegal” Nancy said), and lord knows what else, on our way to the ticket machines.

Back at the residence we tried to pick up the game on the snowy tv—no luck. Then I noticed it was being projected onto an enormous building many blocks away. The image was partly masked by a leafy tree next door and some buildings, but Peter used the binoculars to watch for a few minutes and saw the beautiful Korean goal scored by Park. (Now he wants a t-shirt with Park's number 7 on it.) A great roar of glee went up all over the neighbourhood at that moment.

It’s made me happy this morning to find Korea won the game—the weight of gloom from Seoul Square, had they not, might have been enough to alter the earth’s axis a degree or two.