Korea's Home Run

The

dream had been lovely, a crescendo of victories that catapulted the South Korean team into the quarterfinals of the World Cup. But sitting in a Seoul movie theater watching the historic match between Korea and Spain, 23-year-old university student Jo Aram pinched herself as regulation time ended without a goal. Then two halves of extra time slipped by scoreless, after a linesman controversially disallowed a Spanish goal. Suddenly, the biggest game her country had ever played was to be decided by penalty kicks. Jo knew this was the part where she was going to awaken, because dreams always end before you get to the really good stuff. This time, though, a miraculous reality intervened. After Spanish midfielder Joaquin muffed his side's fourth penalty, Korean captain Hong Myung Bo drove the ball into the top of the net, clinching victory. "I am not sure what is real and what is a dream," said Jo, as more than 1 million red-shirted fans overran the streets of Seoul in glee. "It's like the whole world has turned upside down."

Only in the most magical of reveries would Korea, a team that had not won a single World Cup match in nearly five decades, cruise into the semifinals of this year's tournament. An insular nation used to squatting on the international sidelines has discovered that the whole world is watching—and Korea can glare right back. "We've never been proud of our country before," says Sue Park, who runs her own public relations company in Seoul. "We've had so many political problems, corruption, wars, even being divided between North and South. But today, I am so proud to be Korean."

		LATEST COVER STORY Being Tom Cruise  Minority Report: The review  Philip K. Dick: The future is now July 1, 2002 Past Issues Asia's World Cup Jun. 24, 2002 ----------------- China's Labor Lost Jun. 17, 2002 ----------------- Asian Medicine Jun. 10, 2002 ----------------- A Bombshell Memo Jun. 3, 2002 ----------------- World Cup 2002 May 27, 2002 ----------------- China's Dope May 20, 2002 ----------------- Saddam's World May 13, 2002 ----------------- Star Wars May 6, 2002 ----------------- Asian Heroes Apr. 29, 2002   ASIA  Malaysia: PM resigns — or not  Philippines: Davao's Dirty Harry  Korea: Football saves the MDP? WORLD CUP 2002  Korea's home run  Team USA: Doormat no more  Ghosh: Lay off the refs BUSINESS  Sony vs. Honda: Robot wars! TRAVELER  Thailand's big little airline NOTEBOOK  Person of the week CNN.com: Top Headlines

The team's ascent largely comes courtesy of one gray-haired Dutchman: Guus Hiddink. So popular is the national coach that newspapers have half-jokingly suggested he run for President. Never mind that he isn't Korean. After transforming the country's ragtag side into a power that beat favorites Spain, Italy and Portugal, Hiddink has become the country's favorite adopted son.

Only last year, Korea's football team seemed as bedraggled as the country's political system. The team had one of the worst records in World Cup history. Yet the 55-year-old coach managed to energize the Korean side after just 18 months on the job, despite constant barbs from a press and a public skeptical of his unorthodox (for Korea) coaching methods. "At first, people didn't know how to react to him, because he was different from Korean coaches," says phenom Ahn Jung Hwan, who has headed in two of Korea's World Cup goals and connected in Saturday's shoot-out as well. "But it was his unique style that made our team so confident and prepared."

When Hiddink first came onboard in January 2001, Korean football, like the country's ossified corporate conglomerates, was straitjacketed by Confucian tradition. The seniority system in place permeated the locker room, the dining hall and even the playing field. Older players determined the pace of Korea's game. Many of the junior set felt intimidated just looking their elders in the eye when talking to them, which hardly promoted teamwork.

Hiddink discarded the gerontocracy for a performance-based system that nurtured players like 21-year-old speed demon Park Ji Sung, who provided some of the juice in Korea's fluid offense. Cognizant that his inexperienced squad could not match the artistry of, say, a Brazil, the former coach of Real Madrid and the Dutch national team prescribed a punishing training regimen that would enable the Koreans to simply outlast greater soccer powers. Seasoned players like captain Hong who couldn't keep up with the rigorous practices were threatened with dismissal, much to the horror of team officials used to putting loyalty before talent.

The same sports bureaucrats were still calling foul when Hiddink's methods seemed to be leading to humiliation. In a series of international matches against teams such as reigning champions France, Korea lost and lost and lost, even falling to the lowly rated Czech Republic. Newspapers called for Hiddink's head, railing at him for cruelly pitting the Koreans against superior sides. But the controversial strategy paid off, as the team learned how to sustain its stamina against mightier squads. Three of Korea's key World Cup goals have come late in the game, when Portugal, Italy and the U.S. were simply too exhausted to defend themselves. "The Koreans are so fit they could go out and win a track meet right now," said American coach Bruce Arena, after the Koreans tied the U.S. late in the second half. "No team here is in better physical shape than they are."

But fitness alone doesn't win. Indeed, what the Dutch coach may have contributed most to his side was a sense of confidence. "Most people have never heard of these Korean players," says Luis Figo, the legendary Portuguese striker. "But they believed in themselves, and that strength has carried them very far." So popular has Hiddink's "can do" approach become that his advice is being heeded even in Korea's boardrooms. Conglomerates like Samsung and LG are clamoring to have him speak at company retreats. Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul is even offering a course in "Dutch Leadership," whatever that is.

Hiddink has profited from the adulation. In addition to his $2 million coaching contract, he has been awarded $3 million-plus in bonuses for having brought his team this far in the Cup. So loved is Hiddink that he has been offered honorary citizenship, a landmark in Korean history. "People say I took a risk by coming to Korea," says Hiddink. "But this country has offered me more than I could imagine in return."

Perhaps the only thing that could spoil Korea's party now is a refereeing controversy that has tainted Korea's victories over Italy and Spain. During the latter match, a potential game-winning Spanish goal was disallowed over a debatable offside call. But even if the team goes down to defeat at the hands of Germany in the semifinals, few Koreans will be complaining. "I don't know if we have felt like this since we gained independence from Japan," said Hahn Juho, a lawyer in Seoul, as he joined the after-game jubilation. No matter what happens in the last stages of the World Cup, Korea will be partying long after the final whistle blows.