Nocturnal soccer fans have two options this month.
They can sit in their boxers and watch the World Cup unfold in the privacy of home, or they can join others with a need to publicly follow the world's most charged sporting event live. Insomniacs, shift workers and plain, simple fans of the beautiful game painted a fascinating international pastiche at 2:30 a.m. yesterday, when the United States took on co-host South Korea.
NBC showed patrons being turned away at bars in New York, the city that never sleeps. In Baltimore, the extended weekend had a manager at Canton's Kiss Cafe closing shop at 5 a.m., cleaning up after what he estimated as a crowd of 100.
When else but at 3 in the morning in a World Cup year would you find a man born in El Salvador sitting in a Korean restaurant arguing the merits of Germany, Argentina, Brazil and Spain?
Hugo Portillo came to the United States in 1984. He lives in Edgewood and works as a chef at a seafood restaurant in Fallston, but early yesterday he made his way to U Jung Restaurant on West 20th Street in Baltimore. He had a very late dinner, got a carryout order of jae yook gui - sliced pork marinated in special sauce - for his wife and soaked up the big match in the presence of fellow immigrants with a serious rooting interest.
"A lot of people are watching the games on tape," Portillo said. "To me, that's not fun, knowing the result. I've got a big-screen TV at home, but I like this place and wanted to be with other fans. I worked till 8 last night [Sunday] and then was playing cards with some friends, talking about the game. I was hungry, so I came here."
Portillo was the only patron at U Jung who wasn't openly cheering for South Korea. Gus Kwak, the sushi chef, said he knew it was going to be an interesting month in his restaurant on the morning of June 4, when a procession of men banged on the front door.
It was 7 a.m., 8 p.m. in South Korea, and a half-hour to one of the biggest sporting events in the nation's history. What had already been a grand accomplishment - sharing the host duties with Japan - turned sweeter when South Korea beat Poland, 2-0, for its first World Cup win ever.
"For the Poland match, I had men banging on the door. 'I want to watch the matches,' they shouted," Kwak said. "They had to drink coffee. It was too early to serve beer. There are a lot of Korean people in this area. Watching in their house, it's not too interesting. They want to see everybody. Korea is a very small country, but inside it has a very big ego."
Yesterday morning, Kwak served up an order of fried dumplings stuffed with beef and cabbage, then retired to the back dining room to watch the U.S. match in peace with a few other men. The front of the restaurant was considerably louder, where fans like Tony Ji and Dong Hyun had trouble staying in their seats.
When Clint Mathis, the brash young striker with the Travis Bickle-psycho haircut, put the United States on top in the 24th minute, there was acknowledgement of the American's ability to finish. With more than 68,000 fans cheering on the Red Devils in Daegu, the largest venue in South Korea, the home team controlled possession, and one of its forays resulted in a penalty kick. Ji and Hyun were up, and then down, as American goalie Brad Friedel turned aside the try.
"He's just longer," said Hyun, a student at Baltimore City Community College who's been in the United States for two years. "Everything in the U.S. is bigger than in Korea. The people [here] are bigger than the people in Korea."
The Baltimore area is dotted with Korean-American churches. One of its community groups occasionally takes over Herring Run Park on Sundays, as the men rest under massive picnic tents in between soccer games. The Korea Times, a local paper, reported that though middle-aged Korean-Americans favor their homeland in the World Cup, their children are more likely to root for the United States.
As the South Koreans continued to attack, Ji squirmed in his seat. His shirt bore a map of the state and Korean lettering that, translated to English, read, "Maryland Korean Soccer Team." The Harford County resident works at a store not far from U Jung.
"I'd like to win for my home country," said Ji. "The U.S. winning is OK, but my home country is first in my mind."
The men in the front of U Jung watched the first half on Univision, the Hispanic network, which is drawing better ratings in the United States than ESPN.
A group of women entered the restaurant at halftime, commandeered the remote control and switched to the American network. As the announcers offered alibis about the heat and humidity affecting the United States, Ahn Jung Hwan won what seemed to be South Korea's first head ball of the match and got the equalizer in the 78th minute.
As men and women said farewell at 4:35 a.m., the scene brought to mind an old sporting proverb: Nobody wins, nobody loses, everybody goes home happy.