Pyongyang-based Naegohyang FC won the 2025-26 AFC Women’s Champions League in Suwon on Saturday. That tells only a small part of an inconceivable and historic one-week sojourn below the 38th parallel.
When the final whistle blew at Castle Park and Naegohyang were confirmed AFC Women’s Champions League winners, one question lingered: would Naegohyang reveal emotions previously locked away?
Up to that point, the club from Pyongyang had gone out of its way to avoid any soundbite or gesture that might have been mistaken for warmth, praise, or even gratitude.
They arrived at Incheon Airport the previous Sunday, greeted by several hundred South Koreans waving banners and flags. Heads down, they marched expressionless to their waiting bus.
On the eve of the semi-final against local side Suwon FC Women, manager Ri Yu-il sat with folded arms at the press conference, batting away any invitation to acknowledge the cheering crowd that had welcomed them at the airport.
Korean media reported that the local city government had lined the streets from Naegohyang’s hotel to the stadium with flowers. It was also reported that normal protocol had been broken — AFC rules stipulate that all four teams should share the same hotel.
In Suwon, that did not happen.
I attended Wednesday night’s semi-final, which Naegohyang won 2-1. Conditions were monumentally bad, arguably the worst I have ever experienced at a football match. As a result, it was difficult to fully appreciate the level of strangeness inside the stadium.
As I made my way home through the pouring rain, I caught a glimpse of the Naegohyang team bus. Several supporters were gathered nearby, perhaps hoping for a rare opportunity to see North Korean athletes up close below the 38th.
Security shut down any possibility of that. Before the players emerged from the dressing room, the Suwon FC bus was parked directly in front of the visiting team’s vehicle. Suddenly, there were no sightlines.
To reinforce the point that nobody was welcome to linger, the car park was cordoned off and more than 20 security officers pushed back those still braving the conditions.

Those Naegohyang supporters, of course, had not flown from Pyongyang to watch the match. Many of those inside Castle Park on Wednesday were elderly. As The Washington Post reported:
“In the inter-Korean cheering section were descendants of families separated or displaced by the war and North Korean escapees, waving flags representing both teams and singing old North Korean songs.”
Naegohyang’s narrow victory extended their stay in Korea until the weekend. Standing between them and the trophy were Tokyo Verdy Beleza, who had dispatched Melbourne earlier that day.
Other than the venue, little about Saturday’s final resembled Wednesday’s slugfest.
A 2 p.m. kickoff in late May raised eyebrows, particularly as Castle Park offers no roof cover.
It was hot. Boiling.
Some supporters sought shade in the shadows cast by Suwon’s magnificent floodlights, which towered above the complex into the brilliant blue sky.
There was more colour in the stands, too. Naegohyang’s supporters gathered behind the goal beneath the television screen in the South Stand. They banged red, blue, yellow, and orange thundersticks. Some waved lime-green flags. Others held yellow scarves.
Tokyo supporters wore green and brought two dozen banners to fill the empty seats, draping Japanese flags across chairs and over their shoulders.
And this was when things started to get strange.
A young couple near me, sheltering from the piercing sun, opened an umbrella in the colours of the South Korean flag. They sat alone, far from either the Japanese contingent or those supporting Naegohyang.
They were told to put it away.

The only goal of the match arrived just before the break. A two-on-one break was clinically finished. Naegohyang’s white shirts sprinted towards the corner flag in front of their supporters and celebrated.
They stopped well short of acknowledging that support.
Then came the final whistle.
Most of the 22 players on the pitch slumped to the turf. Tokyo’s beaten stars were slow to rise. Naegohyang’s players sprinted toward their dugout to embrace staff and substitutes.
Then came the moment everyone had anticipated.
The North Korean flag was unfurled. The players danced beneath it under the main stand. It was time for the lap of honour.
Would they clear the advertising hoardings, cross the running track, and celebrate with their adoring supporters?
They did not.
Staying strictly within the white lines, they covered only half the playing surface before returning to their dugout. In their joy, they remained ice-cold toward everyone in the stands.
One final moment of potential solidarity awaited.
Korea Football Association president Chung Mong-gyu was on hand to congratulate both teams.
He extended his hand.
It was ignored.
Standing beside him was Culture, Sports and Tourism Minister Chae Hwi-young. Several Korean outlets reacted sharply.
One newspaper described the atmosphere as leaving “a bitter aftertaste to the very end.”
Another, OSEN, was more scathing:
“From the semifinal onward, Suwon Sports Complex was already close to the atmosphere of a North Korea home stadium.”
OSEN also criticised the use of taxpayer money to support Naegohyang rather than local side Suwon FC Women.
Some have argued the players were placed in an impossible position.
We simply do not know what repercussions, if any, might have awaited them upon their return to Pyongyang had they stopped for selfies or warmly embraced South Korean officials.
However, there are certain guidelines they must surely adhere to. The Asian Football Confederation’s statutes place unity, solidarity, and friendly relations at the heart of its governing framework.
Article 2(b) states that one of the AFC’s primary objectives is “to foster friendly relationships between and amongst stakeholders.” Article 2(a) further requires the confederation to promote football for its “unifying, educational, cultural and humanitarian values.”
From the welcome party to the flowers to the organised cheering section, events in Suwon ultimately fell short of those ideals.
There will be no punishment for that.
One suspects everyone — from the Korean government to the KFA to the AFC to Suwon FC Women to Naegohyang — is simply relieved that it is over.
And what of those flowers, planted so carefully by the roadside? Did the visiting team even notice them?
Korea is currently gripped by election fever. Lamp posts are plastered with campaign posters. Volunteers in red and blue sing and dance for their candidates on street corners.

Did the Naegohyang players see any of it? And if they did, what must they have made of it?
As their manager said, they came to play football. Naegohyang did exactly that — and they did it exceptionally well. Unfortunately, beyond the 90 minutes on the pitch, nothing meaningful was achieved.
That is a shame.


Leave a Reply