Mobis-uh!

I am now officially a fan of Ulsan sports teams. I knew long ago that my soccer team was fantastic, and that was enough for me. That was until I went to a basketball game. Oh man. Koreans put a twist on anything they adopt from the west, with deeply varying results. Sometimes it makes sense, and sometimes it's shambles. Korean basketball is, simply put, one of the purest examples of cultural fusion I've had the pleasure of taking in.

Let's start with the roster. There are some big Koreans on the Ulsan Mobis Phoebus (don't ask me what Phoebus means). This makes sense and allows the experience to be at once visually familiar to the uninitiated occidental. Then you encounter Gerard Dunston and Odartey Blankson. God knows their stories, but somehow these two black westerners ended up on a mediocre professional Korean basketball team. And damn do the Ulsan fans go berzerk over them. I found out later that most of the Korean teams imported "players of color," and sure enough the opposing team fit the bill. Subsequently I noticed two unfortunate things. One, any black player on floor was invariably covered by another black player, which created a disturbing visual dichotomy. Two, the black players were clearly the best players on their respective teams. I'm sure that's great for the teams themselves. Still, I found it disheartening that the Koreans couldn't count on their own countrymen as the focal point of the physical heroics. I also noticed this at the soccer games, when the Brazilian players always came away with the biggest cheers... and the most scored goals. Either way, I guess if the fans are happy then I'm happy as well.


Then we have the food. I find that sports in the US are inextricably linked with a certain brand of intense, sweaty food. Koreans, not being a people willing to forget about health even during a spectacle, snacked on decidedly unorthodox fare, at least for an American. While there were chips, popcorn, beer, and soda, some other snacks really threw me. Most notable among them was the squid fries. That's right. In fact, I would argue that 2/3 of that stadium consumed squid fries over the course of the game. Of course I tried them, and I can safely say that I get it. They look like fries, they're filling, and with enough salt and a vivid imagination, they almost taste like fries.



Lastly, we have the accents. One of the strangest things about Korea is that English is everywhere. Whether a Korean speaks it or not, he must live everyday surrounded by sayings, billboards, road signs, etc in english. Obviously these are all coupled with a Korean alternative. The result is hearing English words that you know, but not even know they're being used. Ramen noodles (or lahm-yen to Koreans) get at the point. The weirdest example of this during the game arose anytime Blankson scored a basket. The crowd cheered his last name in unison, but it came out roughly as "Buh-lack-us-uh," or to my ears as "blacks." Well, it was close enough to cause some smirks amongst my friends and I. Then you have the team name: Mobis. Anytime there was a lull in play, the stadium's hype man (yes that's right) began a chant of "Mo-bees-suh/mo-bees-suh/mo-bees-suh" with a corresponding clap,clap,clap. It's pure Korean to make a two syllable word into three with a simple "uh." Case in point, my name: Bu-rah-duh. 1 syllable to three. Though, I did hear a defense chant several times that was the same old "defense!!!" that we all know and love. Just like in the rest of life here: some western things stay the same (McDonald's) and some things just get Koreanized.