'My whole department is here': Coworkers, crowds come together to watch World Cup match at Gwanghwamun Square

Lim Chang-ho still had his work badge around his neck when he arrived at Gwanghwamun Square on Friday morning. So did the roughly 20 colleagues who came with him from Copenhagen Offshore Partners' Korean office in Jongno District, a short walk from the square.

Their team's senior director, Ryan Colbeck, had made the call after watching staff repeatedly sneak glances at their phones during Korea's opening match against Czech Republic last week.

This time, he said, they would do it properly.

"The other departments were jealous they weren't invited," Lim told the Korea JoongAng Daily.

Colbeck gave everyone the morning off.

"They work very hard," he said. "Anyone who wanted to come could come."

On a Friday in June, with temperatures climbing toward 32 degrees Celsius (90 degrees Fahrenheit) and a heat advisory in effect across Seoul, tens of thousands showed up anyway — on a workday, before noon, to watch their team face Mexico at the 2026 FIFA World Cup in Guadalajara.

The area was awash in red jerseys, scarves and more, with Seoul city government officials estimating at least 18,000 people in the square by 11 a.m., an hour into the match. The cheering zones were filled beyond capacity. Overflow crowds spilled onto the adjacent road, forcing organizers to expand the viewing area.

Korea lost to Mexico 1-0, with a goal in the 50th minute serving as enough to decide the match.

The square fell quiet when it went in — a brief, heavy silence before the Red Devils' cheer squad called out: "It's okay. Let's cheer louder." The Red Devils, who have led the crowd at Gwanghwamun for every major tournament since 2002, kept up their drums and chants through the final whistle.

The KT Building's giant billboard loomed directly above the main viewing area, the morning sun sitting just above it, searing into the crowd.

Staff handed out bottled water and stationed a medical tent for heat-related illness. Fans arrived armed with sunglasses, hats, arm sleeves and portable shade. The usual Korean viewing ritual — fried chicken and beer, or chimaek — gave way to iced coffee and water bottles. It was that kind of morning: too hot and too early, but nobody was complaining.

Gwanghwamun wasn't alone. Similar viewing parties drew crowds all across Seoul in Yeouido, Myeongdong and other city hotspots, where fans gathered through the morning heat to watch the match. 

The noise in Gwanghwamun came in waves. When the broadcast feed carried the roar of Mexican fans in Guadalajara cheering, the square answered back even louder.

Here and there, though, scattered throughout the red, a few green jerseys nevertheless stood their ground.

Lee Jae-min, 35, an office worker from Yongsan District, central Seoul, had taken the day off.

He had done the same for the Czech Republic match, and already planned to return for Korea's final group game against South Africa.

He came alone the first time, but his first experience was apparently good enough that this time he brought two friends — one of whom had taken a dawn train from Cheonan in Gangwon to make it on  time.

Asked why he keeps coming out to Gwanghwamun instead of just watching at home, he instantly replied: "I'm Korean," he said. "Of course I'm here."

Susan Park had flown in from Boston — on vacation with her husband, her younger daughter and her mother-in-law, who is over 90 years old. She had been to Gwanghwamun for a World Cup match roughly a decade ago, with her older daughter.

"Today I brought my mother-in-law who has dementia," Park said. "Being back in Korea, in a crowd, among the noise — it brings things back."

Kang Soo-han drove in from Paju, Gyeonggi, with two other parents and their children — members of a youth football club, aged 10 to 12. He had skipped the Czech Republic match.

"It's a host nation match," he said. "I thought the atmosphere would be different — and I wanted the kids to feel it."

In one corner of the square, staff from the Embassy of Panama were handing out bottles of ice-cold water to anyone who wanted one.

Panama's Ambassador Diego Manuel Villanueva Martinelli, who is on his second year in Korea, said the idea came naturally as he knows this kind of heat from his home country.

He added one small request in return: "I just hope that when people get home [in the afternoon,] they google Panama once."

Also standing out in the crowd: Carlos Peñafiel Soto, Mexico's ambassador to Korea, who came with his wife and nephew in bright green El Tri uniforms to watch a Folklórico dance performance staged on the square before kickoff.

He invoked a debt that Mexican football fans have not forgotten.

In 2018, the Korean side, already eliminated from the tournament, defeated defending champions Germany 2-0 in stoppage time — a result that sent Mexico through to the round of 16.

"After that," Peñafiel said, "Mexicans have thought of Korea as brothers."

He added, "Maybe 1-1 today would be fair."

It might have been, but it was not to be.

After the final whistle, a small cluster of Mexican fans gathered near the center of the square — strangers to one another, brought together by the scoreboard. Someone played Mexican music on a portable speaker and they danced.

Among them was Pauline, who has lived in Korea for 12 years and whose Korean husband was at work.

"We love Korea so we were happy to support either side — but happy our motherland won," she said.

One angry Korean supporter approached the group and told them to go back to their own country. But others came closer and took photos. An older woman even came by and said chukahaeyo, or "congratulations."