Korean Baseball Experience

Naturally, it could only be so long before I had to experience Korean baseball. Well, as chance would have it, the first Korean baseball I experienced was an amateur baseball game in which I played centerfield for the last two innings and was subsequently asked to join the team. I'll tell you more about that later. What I want to tell you about is the experience that is a professional baseball game in Korea specifically between the first place SK Wyverns and the last place Doosan Bears (GO DOOSAN!).

So I'm sitting at work and one of the Korean teachers rolls over to my desk. "Hey, what are you doing this weekend?"

"I don't know. What's up?"

"Do you want to go to a baseball game?", she asks.

"Umm, hell yeah?"

There's a confused look on her face. "What's that mean?"

"It means, yes, yes I want to go to a Korean baseball game."

So, cultural vernacular peculiarities aside, I get the info, the number, tell my brother and another teacher at school, Bryan, and make plans for my first professional Korean baseball game. I'm stoked!

Baseball is baseball. Korea and the US are different in a lot of ways, but you can't change the game of baseball. And in fact, this holds true. Korean baseball as a game played, is very much what you would expect to find on any field in America. However, Korean baseball as an experience very much differs from American baseball as an experience. Now, no matter where you live in the world, I can honestly say "go watch a baseball game." I know many people worldwide rag on the sport as boring and uninteresting, and though I have played and loved the sport practically my whole life, I cannot argue with these people. I must add a qualifying clause to that statement, however. Baseball, as watched on TV, can be boring. Baseball as seen in a professional or semi-professional stadium is exciting (and based on my recent experience, I would say) no matter where you are in the world.

So, what's different about the Korean baseball experience?

Answer: The vendors, stadium situation, naming system, price, cheerleaders, fan participation, and the experience as a whole.

Let's start from the beginning. Walking up to a professional stadium in America, you are guaranteed to find vendors outside of the stadium selling many of the same items that you would find inside the stadium. For example, hot dogs, barbecue sandwiches, bags of peanuts, sodas, baseball hats, and t-shirts with team logos on them. Walking out of the subway stop up to Jamchil Stadium (home of the Doosan Bears and LG Twins), we are bombarded with vendors much the same way as I would expect in America. However, there isn't a bag of peanuts or a hot dog to be seen among the stands. There are, of course, rice cakes, squid, and kimbop being sold everywhere. I was cracking up laughing because it felt so very much like the atmosphere outside of a baseball stadium in America, however it was bitterly different, as I couldn't quench my strong desire to wolf down a chili dog smothered in ketchup. Kimbop and squid just don't hack it.

You may have noticed that Jamchil Stadium is home of both the Doosan Bears AND the LG Twins. This is a true statement, and apparently these two teams are bitter rivals, so it would be similar to someone saying home of the Redsox and the Yankees. However, it would not be the same as saying home of the Boston Redsox and the New York Yankees, because Boston and New York are different cities. The Bears and the Twins are both hometown teams of Seoul, along with the Unicorns (yes, the Unicorns). As we know, the land area of Korea is significantly smaller than that of the land area of America (refer to Korean Hiking Experience article). This makes it hard to have 30 teams from 20-some different cities like in America. So in Korea, instead of having 30 teams, they have 8 teams, 3 of whom are from Seoul, 1 from Incheon which is just outside of Seoul, and 4 from other cities in Korea.

You also may have noticed that I did not say the Seoul Bears, or the Seoul Twins, or the Incheon Wyverns. No, the teams are not named after or sponsored by cities - they are sponsored by companies. This may have been more apparent if I had said the Hyundai Unicorns, or the Samsung Lions, or maybe the Kia Tigers. Yes, Hyundai and Kia which you may know as car companies, or Samsung which you may know of as an electronic company, are all sponsors of Korean professional baseball teams. This would be equivalent to having the Microsoft Mariners, the Chevrolet Cubs, or the Ford Tigers in America. This is not completely true as the three companies I just mentioned are the equivalent to what you (probably) know of the Korean companies. In Korea, these Korean companies aren't what Americans think they are in America. They don't just make cars or TV's. Almost all of them are actually huge holding companies in Korea that made most of their money in construction (my 31-story apartment building was built by Samsung). Thus, it would be more like saying the Sears-Roebuck Mariners, the Berkshire Hathaway Cubs, and the Citigroup Tigers. How about that for a little background on the KBO (Korean Baseball Organization)?

Okay, so we walk past the vendors and get into the Stadium area. Immediately we spot three things - a KFC, and Burger King and a batting cage. I take a picture of the KFC and BK, and head over to the batting cage. We pay chon won ($1) a piece and all take a couple hacks in the cage. Then we head over to the ticket window to purchase our tickets. Quick overview of Korean prices: everything costs about as much as you would pay in America - everything except American imports and Korean products that you can only get in Korea. For example, sodas, candy bars, and bags of chips all cost similar prices in America and Korea. However, American dinners (TGI Friday's and Outback) are super-expensive while Korean dinners (galbi, bi-bim-bop, and jjigaes) are relatively inexpensive. This rule apparently applies to baseball as well. I would say that it is not an American import as you can only see Korean baseball in Korea. Apply the rule, and thus it is relatively inexpensive to attend a professional Korean baseball game. Tickets to American baseball games on Sunday's can range anywhere from $35 to $150 depending on how bad you want your nose to bleed. Well, good seats to a Korean baseball game cost $7, and you can sit almost anywhere you want! Ask any Boston native how much a day-game ticket to see the Yankees-Sox a few rows back on the first-base side cost and you'll probably hear "It'll cost you somebody's life."... and they won't be laughing. So, we graciously purchase our $7 tickets and head into the stadium.

All 10 of us (Koreans and North Americans alike) grab our seats and check out the sights. Immediately we notice another difference between American baseball and Korean baseball - cheerleaders! Yes, indeed. In between every inning, 4 smoking hot cheerleaders jump up on top of the home team dugout and entertain the crowd during what is usually the down time of an American baseball game. No, no... in Korea, you do not want to miss the time in between innings.

Lastly, the main difference between the Korean baseball experience and the American baseball experience is the level of participation of cheering during the game. During practically every moment of the action during the game, there is a gentleman dressed in a uniform on top of the dugout with a whistle leading the crowd in what appear to be planned and practiced cheers. He's like a conductor to a symphony of fans all playing "thunder sticks" (you know, those two columns of plastic filled with air and smacked together to make a loud noise, as seen at some college basketball and football games in America). It's amazing to see this guy wave his arm, blow on his whistle a certain way, and a couple thousand fans all responding in sync to his cheering command. It blew my mind. There's a cheer that includes the players name and beckons for him to get a hit, a cheer that sounds like the slow clap, and a soft cheer that seems to be a conciliatory cheer after one of our players gets out. Honestly, it was bizarre, and you can best understand it by experiencing it. The cheering and fan participation was intoxicating and I found myself on my feet from the third inning on, yelling out my version of the cheers - "(clap, clap) Kim Dong Hu, haaaawt... DOG (clap, clap)!", or "(clap, clap, clapclapclap, clap clap) DOOSAN!" Or "(clap, clapclapclap) He no hitter, he naCHO! (clapclapclap)." Oh man, it was awesome. I didn't know any of what they were saying, but I would yell out syllables that sounded similar and hit the beat, and I don't think any Koreans around me knew any better.

This went on for 12 innings strong, as our beloved Doosan Bears were losing 7-4 in the seventh when they decided to score 2 runs and then tie it up 7-7 in the bottom of the 9th to push us into extra innings! Then when SK scored one in the top of the 11th, Doosan fought back and tied it up again in the bottom of the inning. However valiant, our beloved Bears fell behind another run in the top of the 12th and didn't have it in them to come back. All and all it was honestly one of the most exciting baseball games I've seen in my life and was all the more fun experiencing all the cultural differences!

Korean Baseball is where it's at. I'll be taking orders for Doosan Bears hats.

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