The Iceberg

Last night I went to a bar in Anyang (more specifically, in Sanbon) called Wild Bill’s No. 10 to drink some beer and play some darts. Back in my Seattle days my friends and I often went to sports bars for the electronic dart machines (and the beer, of course) and it was kind of nice to find one at Wild Bill’s. It brought back memories.

What also brought back memories was the bar itself. In 2001 I discovered a Wild Bill’s in the Gangnam area on my walk home from school. It was located on the opposite side of Gangnam station from the nightlife zone - a good ten or fifteen minutes walk - and as a result business there was bad to say the least. During the week there was a smattering of businessmen from nearby offices having a beer after work, but on weekends you rarely found more than five or six people at the bar. It was a shame because it was a pretty nice bar. I talked with the manager about hosting a weekend party for teachers and students of the academy where I worked. (Adult students, for all the haters.) I told him that, if he promised to open the bar only to members of our academy, I would deliver a hundred customers. He was up for it. We arranged a set price for all-you-can-drink draft beer. Other drinks were extra. Some friends and I put up posters and sold tickets at the school. The manager was kind enough to throw in two large “side dish” platters of french fries, sausages, and what have you for every six people or so. The party was a raging success. After a couple of hours of drink we moved the tables to the sides of the room and turned the bar into a mini-nightclub. It was good fun. We ended up having two more parties over the next couple of months.

The Wild Bill’s in Sanbon had a similar feel to the one in Gangnam, though it tended to wind around a bit more while the Gangnam bar was spacier. The bar in Sanbon appears to be quite popular with the locals, however. The place was bustling. And god! there were a lot of hotties there. Only problem was, with one or two exceptions, they were all with dates.

One final note - I wonder when Korea is going to finally ditch the whole music-blaring, Tom Cruise-in-”Cocktail”-style bottle spinning, fire-blowing cocktail show and come up with something new. I mean, that shit has been going on for at least ten years now. Enough already.

Hello again, everyone. I just finished a hellaciously busy week at work. The past five days I have listened to and evaluated approximately 70 student speeches, conducted over 100 four minute one-to-one speaking tests, written a final exam, and entered the semester grades of over 200 students onto a Korean government website. Oh yeah, and I managed to squeeze in a game of soccer yesterday.

I gave up a goal, but my team won 3-1. Concerning the goal, one of the fun things about learning a sport (or anything, for that matter) from scratch* is that you experience something new nearly every time time you do it.  Until yesterday, every shot that came at me was some variety of power or touch, high or low, deflection or point blank. I thought I had seen them all.  But I was wrong.

Though I have a long way to go to become a real asset to my team (my goal kicks, for example, while steadily improving, are still complete shite), the one “weapon in my arsenal” is a fearlessness toward throwing myself in the mix to get the ball. I’ve got the raspberries and bruises to prove it. As the nuances of positioning and timing have become more instinctual, my confidence has grown. You might even say I had become a little “cheeky” in front of the net. I slowly began to think, “I’ve got this game by the balls.” (In a manner of speaking.)

Yesterday’s conceded goal provided a needed dose of humility. We were playing a group of high school students. Though the students have a considerable advantage in conditioning (the little bastards never tire), the teachers are physically stronger, savvier, and more skilled (with the exception of one or two very talented student players). I approached the game with a mindset of, “No punk high school student is going to score on this goal!” (Note: The students are not really punks. In fact, they are good kids. It was just an expression of my cheekiness.)

But then it happened. Our team was leading 1-0 and the game was entering the final ten minutes. I grew increasingly comfortable, at one point thinking, “This game is in the bag.” Not more than two minutes later, one of the students found some space about ten meters in front of the goal and fired off a shot. The ball had good pace and started off to my right, but close enough to me that I wouldn’t have to dive for it. I instinctually lunged to my right to block it, but instantly realized that the shot was like what we call in baseball a “screwball”. It kept hooking back to my left. It was the first time since I started goalkeeping that I had seen a shot like that. I tried to stop my momentum and lunge back to left, but it was too late. I managed to get my hands on the ball, but not enough to deflect it to safety. The ball flew comfortably into the back of the net and the score was tied 1-1. Oh, the humiliation! Fortunately for my soccer self-esteem, my teammates quickly rallied to score two late goals to win, but the deed had been done. I was humbled.

One extra tidbit from the game to throw your way. We play these games during the students’ dinner time, so there are usually around 300 students watching the game. There was one moment during yesterday’s game when I tried to direct one of my aforementioned crap goalkicks to a teammate on the right side of the field but ended up shanking it over the sideline. I knew it was bad as soon as I hit it and, briefly lost in the moment, expressed displeasure with my effort. “Oh shit,” were my exact words. The sound of laughter emanated from my right. I looked over and saw about 30 male students sitting in the concrete stands with smiles on their faces . They were not laughing at my kick - they’re much too polite for that - but rather the fact that I had (so naturally) used profanity. They looked at each other and, giggling, repeated what I had said. “스캇쌤 ‘Oh shit’이랬어**…hahaha.” For the next two minutes I was entertained by chants of “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit”. I felt a tinge of embarassment that I’d unwittingly given the students license to swear, but mostly it was pretty funny.

*For those who haven’t read earlier posts, I played soccer for the first time in my life less than three months ago.

**Scott said, “Oh shit!”.

Here’s a little diversion for you. Britney Spears has asked her fans to name her new album.

I’m on it! How about “A Fanny Shaved is a Fanny Earned”…No? Then…”You Think I’m Bad? Lohan is a Skank!”?…or…”At Least I Didn’t Do Jail Time”…hmmm…Okay…then…”I Did a Month of Rehab and All I Got Was This Stinking Album”.

Britney’s new album cover.

Across the pond (in Japan), Pepsi has created a new soda called Pepsi Ice Cucumber.

Mmmmm. I should note that the soft drink contains no cucumber whatsoever. All artificial flavoring. That’s right. You drink this not for its nutritional value, but simply because you want to enjoy a nice cucumber-flavored soda.

As enticing as it sounds, I think I’m going to hold out for the Pepsi Ice Asparagus. Or…hey Pepsi Korea! Here’s an idea for you! Pepsi Ice Sweet Potato. Eh? Eehhhh?

I was riding my scooter to work this morning when I saw an ajumma - the big, strong, works in the market, get out of her way when she’s getting on the subway, type of ajumma - with a tat.  She had her sleeves rolled up and it was on her right shoulder.  Looked pretty cool, I must say.

I’ve never been a fan of Michelle Wie. Sure, the girl has incredible talent and may become the greatest female golfer before all is said and done, but at this point she’s not even close. But that hasn’t stopped the media and sponsors from treating her like she already is. Not that I blame her for piling up the cash. Given the opportunity, who wouldn’t? (Though it’s a bit sad that her father thought it appropriate to teach her the value of selling out.) I just don’t respect her. Actually, let me clarify - it’s not so much Michelle Wie that I have a problem with as much as it’s Michelle Wie, Inc. She is still just an adolescent, after all, and doesn’t really know any better. She’s pretty much a victim to the whims of those surrounding her, molding her into something that is going to take an awful lot of tournament victories to overcome when all is said and done.

Word has been circulating that her peers on the LPGA tour have been grumbling about her behavior for some time now. (Now that I think about it, are they her peers? She hasn’t officially joined the tour yet. More on that later.) Now Annika Sorenstam, the golfer whom Wie should aspire to emulate, has called her out. In this Yahoo Sports report on Wie’s pullout from a tournament due to a “wrist injury”, Sorenstam is quoted as saying,

“I just feel that there’s a little bit of lack of respect and class just to leave a tournament like that and then come out and practice here. It’s a little funny that you pull out with an injury and then you start grinding. My doctor told me to rest.” (Referring to a back and neck injury that she suffered.)

Beyond the quotes from Sorenstram, the Yahoo article was far from flattering to Wie. It opens with this doozie,

Phil Mickelson withdrew because of a wrist injury and flew home to San Diego for an MRI. He saw two doctors, had one cortisone shot and decided to withdraw from his next tournament.

Michelle Wie withdrew because of a wrist injury and went to the range to hit balls.

In fairness, at least she took a day off.

Now, back to the point that Wie is not a member of the tour. The Yahoo article later says that,

Sorenstam was quick to note that Wie received a sponsor’s exemption to the tournament. That means she was invited. The feeling on the LPGA Tour is that Wie has mistaken invitation for entitlement.

The fact that she was invited meant that, had she shot 88 or higher, she would no longer be allowed to participate in tour events for the rest of the year. After toughing it out through 16 holes (16 holes!), she decided she couldn’t play out the final two and the fact that she was only two bogies from shooting an 88 of course had nothing to do with it.

Sorenstam is not the only golfer casting a doubtful eye at the actions of Wie. Ron Sirak reports at ESPN.com,

“When Wie withdrew with two holes to play in the first round of the Ginn Tribute virtually no player believed it was because of an injury, as she said. The overwhelming consensus was that she walked off the course rather than risk being suspended from tour play for the rest of the year for failing to break 88 in a competitive round. Salt was poured in that wound when she showed up two days later practicing at Bulle Rock, where the McDonald’s is being played this week.” (Emphasis added.)

Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. You’ve been heading down the wrong path for some time now. Get yourself together before it’s too late. Otherwise, your career is going to fade out faster than you can say Anna Kournikova.

A couple of milestones have recently been reached at the Iceberg. The first is that this blog crossed the 100,000 visitor threshold a couple of days ago. Thank you, Google Search.

The second is that I received my first hate e-mail this morning courtesy of a Mr. Dong-wan Kim. Two of them, actually. Here they are for your reading pleasure:

The first:

From: “dongwan kim” <kimdwan@yahoo.com>

To: scott@icebergkorea.com

goddamn it, another asiaphile in korea. if i ever see you here i will punch your nose into your skull. my do-hyoen? give me a break. go pick up a hooker or something. or go back to your trailer park in your country. loser.

The second:

goddamn asiaphile. also, i’ve contacted yonhap since you’ve been using their photos without permission. hire a lawyer loser. or get your ass deported. nice.

Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Kim. Glad my blog stirs you in ways previously unimaginable.

Here was my reply to my new friend:

Wow!

You are one angry fella.

동완, you need to develop a sense of humor.  You may not have
gotten it, but the "my Do-yeon" comment was a joke.  Of course she is not
"mine".  Feel better now?

I'm sure Yonhap will be bangin' on my door any day now.  Hahaha.  Good
luck with that...and good luck with your hatred.  Thank god the vast
majority of Koreans that I meet are not like you.

P.S. - Check back with the blog.  I'm posting your e-mail.

By the way, Do-yeon, if on the small chance you read this, if that whole marriage thing doesn’t work out, drop me a line.