Man City Transfer Ignites Public Fury: Do Koreans Even Know They Demanded Hiddink's Firing Back in 2002? You Mad Bandwagon Fans
Just five minutes after Romano's SNS post went up, Korea's biggest soccer community server was already ablaze. Even at this late hour, the real-time best posts list was completely flooded with my name.
But the soccer fans' joy was short-lived. Flames started rising from one corner of the community: Mo Chanhee's fandom. The guy who was ruling as a pragmatic powerhouse, smashing in 15 goals this season for West Ham United in the brutal EPL and climbing the scoring charts.
I skimmed the community quickly and shut off my phone, shoving it in my pocket. The heat was raging, but the more it burned, the heavier the weight I felt to prove myself at Man City. Kinda burdensome. Just a natural human feeling, right?
I headed back to the room where Baek Ho-dol was waiting. Senior Baek didn't rush me at all, just stared silently until I spoke. That silence carried the savvy consideration of wondering if I had some awkward situation I couldn't share. His warm gaze loosened me up, and I smiled lightly as I answered.
"The Man City transfer thing I mentioned to you, senior. Looks like Romano just dropped Here We Go. My phone was blowing up."
Only then did Baek Ho-dol nod.
"Good thing it's nothing serious. Man City move— this level of commotion is par for the course. Just reconfirming news I already heard, so no big deal for me either."
He played it cool, draining his glass, but couldn't hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. I politely refilled his glass and changed the subject.
"Senior, I still haven't heard back. Among the final three candidates, who do you think will be the coach?"
Baek Ho-dol answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yoon Seungwoo."
It was the name I'd expected, but hearing it from him left a bitter aftertaste, and I found myself asking again.
"Why do you think that? Yoon Seungwoo failed miserably at the Brazil World Cup ten years ago, right? Back then, with the loyalty soccer controversy and rumors of him house-hunting, fans hammered the final nail in his coffin."
I wasn't thrilled about Yoon Seungwoo either. But coldly speaking, he's a more realistic option than tactical idealist David Wagner or Dash, who knows zilch about Korean soccer's ecosystem.
Baek Ho-dol gave a wry smile and continued.
"Still, among the candidates now, isn't he the best fit? Our national team is shattered internally before tactics even come into play. Conflicts between Europe-based and domestic players, juniors disrespecting seniors... We don't need a tactics teacher right now."
"True. But will the public accept it? Just check the communities— they'll explode with 'nepotism soccer' and 'revolving door hires.'"
Baek Ho-dol nodded at my words.
"Where in the world is a coach who perfectly suits the public's taste? You probably don't remember, but even 2002 hero Hiddink was once on the brink of the dismissal axe from public opinion."
He was right. I mentally replayed the brutal history of Korean soccer.
In the 2001 Confederations Cup, we got crushed 0-5 by France, then crumbled 0-5 again to Czech Republic in a friendly. Public opinion exploded.
The media slapped him with the humiliating nickname "Odaeyoung" (5-0).
The bandwagon fans' witch hunt peaked. "Doesn't understand Korean soccer sentiment," "Obsessed with fitness training"—voices demanding immediate sacking even echoed inside the technical committee.
If the association had caved to the pressure then, the 2002 miracle fourth place wouldn't exist. Hiddink emphasized fitness and physicality over technique. One of those infamous drills, the terror of the whistle sprints, is still legendary.
The bandwagon backlash focused on "Wasting time on basic fitness for technically deficient Korean players," "No creative tactics."
Hiddink diagnosed that Korean players weren't lacking technique—they just couldn't endure 90 minutes, lacked stamina and physical battle skills to showcase it. That power program became the driving force of the fourth-place myth, but midway through, he got mocked as "track coach, not soccer coach."
Hiddink benched or cut established stars, promoted unknown youngsters, and seeing strict senior-junior hierarchy hindering mid-game communication, he encouraged casual speech even at meals or during matches.
Veterans and conservative fans freaked: "Ruining Korean hierarchy," "Using unproven players." Now it's even worse. Mo Chanhee shows up to the national team spouting "hyung" and "senior" nonstop. Meals aren't even free—vets and seniors eat first, juniors wait till they're done. I suggested Spanish-style early free time after dinner, but got told "Follow Korean rules" bullshit. That's the ultimate reason I'm transferring to Man City to become a big-club symbol of authority. Why national team factions are a problem. Why foreign coaches can't grasp or fix this Korean culture and just watch. In the end, it's not soccer insiders making Yoon Seungwoo the coach—it's Korea's 50 Million Bandwagon Fans. That's the core. Even Hiddink grasping Korean culture fast and smashing bad habits to focus on soccer faced opposition from the 50 million. These people just flip-flop on whims. Preach principles and iron rules to others while being lax themselves. Bastards who don't do dishes right after eating. Set New Year's resolutions and break 'em in three months. Coaching principles shift with eras, trends, situations—not illegal, but they treat it like crime, dividing into black-and-white good vs. evil like it's the devil incarnate. Sure, breaking "principles" and "iron rules" deserves criticism—they're heavy words. But this mob psychology: not thinking objectively, just parroting claims, mobbing till it works out or turns positive—then they flip, washing their mouths clean like mad bandwagon fucks.
"I vaguely remember. If even Hiddink got that, imagine Yoon Seungwoo with his failure record. The public won't forgive him till results show."
I downed the last of my drink in one go.
"Like you said, we don't need a tactics guy now... Can't deny Yoon Seungwoo's the optimal pick. Especially seeing the national team's state."
Our conversation with Baek Ho-dol deepened, but a corner of my heart stayed heavy. Yoon Seungwoo's rejected the job multiple times—will he choose Korean soccer? This team, the process that made it, the association, the fickle bandwagon pots. No alternatives. No alternatives. Train barreling toward a wall.