To Hell or to Hwaseong | OneFootball

"No others were there" confirmed Futbology when I checked-in to the app for Saturday's K League 2 match. Hwaseong is difficult to reach, the stadium is massive, the club has no fans, and the atmopshere is non-existent. But, should you go?

Hwaseong Stadium appears like a gigantic stainless steel rice bowl as you come off National Road 43 two km shy of the stadium. The structure is a modern facility, city built, on the edge of nowhere. The similarities with Yongin Mireu are plentiful. 35,270 seats, mostly empty, behind a running track. The exterior is as grey as the rainy season clouds overhead.

Like several other stadiums in Korea, Hwaseong doesn't possess any stand alone floodlights that mark the initial sighting to most of the world's stadiums. Instead, the lights are attached to the underside of the roof. And because the arena is one continuous, sweeping concrete bowl running uninterrupted, this doesn't resemble a football stadium until you've made your way inside. Well, that's probably because it isn't a football stadium.

I'm here on a hot and humid Saturday evening in late June. It is week 18 of the K League 2 season and new boys Hwaseong FC are welcoming former K League and Asian champions Seongnam FC. The visitors started the match in 8th, four places and eight points above their Gyeonggi-do neighbors.

Outside the stadium, cars pulled up and parked on cracked concrete now on the verge of being overrun by invading weeds. Finding a space in Hwaseong isn't difficult. Lamp posts feature portraits on the players in the squad. This isn't unique in Korea. You see the same posters from Bucheon to Jeju. A half dozen food trucks sold chicken, churros, coffee, and steak. Smaller orange flags featuring the club's crest fluttered in the gentle June breeze. Next to the trucks, the oversized but understocked club store looked to be doing minimal business. The only customers were three Brazilians, who, like me, purchased nothing.

It was 20 minutes to kick-off and the concrete walkways up to the second level were deserted. Behind the large stand, music was blaring as the teams were read out. There was definitely a match on, but without any excitement.

Seongnam fans dodged the heat and the cheerleader show at half-time.

Hwaseong displayed their runners-up trophy in the club shop from 2024. They weren't promoted because of that finish. They could have finished bottom and still gone up. The local city hall had a big stadium and nothing to do with it. The solution? Apply for a K League license and turn your amateur club fully professional. Hwaseong have followed the path of Gimpo FC, Cheonan City, and Chungbuk Cheongju. Next year, Yongin, Gimhae, and potentially Paju will do the same.

City officials know attendances below (and sometimes, in) the top division are poor. By applying for this license, football is unlikely to take off in the city. Suwon borders Hwaseong so any existing K League fan is likely a Bluewings supporter anyway. So why set up a team? Who knows. Have stadium. Have a club. Have some players. Let's go. They added Cha Du-ri on a two-year deal, and swooped for Suwon's media team. All that was left was for the club to hire some foreign players.

Inside the ground, tens of thousands of seats remained empty as kick-off approached. The North Stand, behind the goals to my left, wasn't even open. The visiting Seongnam fans, numbering around 300, where opposite that in the sole uncovered stand, under the TV. The upper tier of the East Stand was completely vacant and the only people in the upper west were media. From my vantage point, a crowd of less than 1,000 was entirely possible. In the end, the figure was confirmed on screen at 1,519.

The pre-match playlist at K League grounds never changes. Music blared from the PA system. The MC screamed and wailed into the microphone. It was obnoxious, ridiculous, and entirely unwarranted. When the players emerged, he (and it is always a male) screamed 선수 입~~~~~~~~~장 (Player entry) to the tiny number of spectators. This happens all across the land. You wonder if stadium MC's are forced to attend K League's version of Hamburger University to learn how to use their voice to pierce through your ears and into your brain for maximum effect.

In this corner, the home team would celebrate their dramatic winner. Unfortunately, no-one was there to see it.

It was obvious which club has the history, tradition, and genuine support base. Hwaseong might get there in the future, but all the noise was coming from the away end. With their collection of flags, banners, chants and boos, Seongnam's Great YRU made their presence felt. Hwaseong's idea of atmosphere centered around six cheerleaders, a couple of flags, and bright, orange thundersticks."You Can Do It Hwaseong" was their primary chant.

If you look at a map of the surrounding area, it is hard to make sense of the decision to construct the stadium here. There's nothing but mountains and lakes to the north until you reach the edge of Gunpo. Behind the main stand, 30 kms of unbroken farmland stretched to the coast. The landscape to the east is similarly empty until you reach Osan. There's a small built-up area south but Hwaseong Stadium is far from a subway line or intercity train station.

Home and away fans have no option but to come via car. Building a new club into an already existing local community would appear to be the most important factor to consider when the plans are written up. Hwaseong FC is the complete opposite of that. As K League grows in size (but not popularity) what future does Hwaseong have?

As for the match, the drama was saved for the 94th minute. Woo Je-wook leapt highest and glanced in a cracking late winner. It was his ever professional goal, and Hwaseong's first shot on target. Manager Cha Du-ri, sporting a very noticeable orange cap, sprinted off in the direction of the corner flag. Woo and his teammates followed him. It was an electric end. But it was very noticeable that the players and management had no fans to share the moment with. In that corner, only dusty grey seats and cobwebbed railings are visible. Shame.