17/10/2009

North Korea’s players are the Willy Wonkas of world football.
Bear with me on this one …

For those unfamiliar with the Roald Dahl classic, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, an eccentric chocolate-maker (Willy Wonka) closes his factory to the outside world as his secret recipes are being stolen by rivals.

“… nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out …”

North Korea is also shrouded in mystery. Few people visit, especially from the West … and certainly if you‘re a journalist. Those that do are given a sanitised tour of the country, as I was during a trip in 2005. I left feeling a little cheated, as though I’d not seen the real people of North Korea, or heard how real people live. Furthermore, I’d been granted scant access to the football team - who were the main focus of my trip.

And, although I spoke with North Koreans, these were sport administrators (who would only talk about football) and my guides (of which there were two, plus a driver). My ‘guides’ insisted they worked for the National Olympic Committee, however to my knowledge National Olympic Committee staff don’t, with a swift display of their ID, have the power to make an armed soldier lower his rifle at the entrance to the Embassy compound in Pyongyang!

So, as a result of being hampered by the North Korean FA and the country’s secret service (let’s give them their proper title), I returned home determined to finish what I’d started.

It’s taken more than four years, but when the chance came along to follow North Korea’s footballers on a short tour of France, I instantly felt like little Charlie Bucket (the main character from “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”). My curiosity was heightened. I had to be part of that tour, to see for myself what kind of footballers were produced by this most secretive of states.

Here was a chance to witness North Korea playing football in Europe for the first time since 1966. That year they appeared in their first - and, so far, only - World Cup finals, when it was staged in England. This time, their appearance on European soil was part of a fact-finding mission. Whilst hiding away from the outside world may suit some within their country, it’s not ideal for footballers going into only their second-ever World Cup finals. Starved of contact with other footballing styles, aside from Asian, they recognised the need to improve their knowledge.

Saint Sebastien-lur-Loire served as their base for the 10-day tour, and I was in France for a week. And, without the secret agents monitoring my every move, here was the chance to go where I want, when I want and speak to whomever I want. Or that was the theory.

As previously mentioned, I had seen the team play back in 2005, in what was a World Cup qualifier. They lost 2-1 to Bahrain, and would ultimately just fall short in their bid to reach Germany 2006.

Their record in the World Cup is - shall we say - patchy. They qualified for the ‘66 finals, and reached the last eight, having shocked Italy in the group stage.

Since then, the North Koreans have withdrawn from two, failed to qualify for six and refused to enter two (in 1998 and 2002 - when co-hosted by bitter neighbours Japan and South Korea).

My week-long trip to France involved watching North Korea play two friendly matches, against Ligue 2 team Nantes and the rather average African nation of Congo. Both games ended 0-0.

At the start of the trip, the North Korean backroom staff were icy, suspicious and guarded. There had been some thawing of relations by the end, and the coach was even encouraging me to ask questions in the press conferences when they threatened to tail off - I had become a familiar face at their training camp.

No such change, though, with the players. None of them spoke English, and most were not even able to offer me a courteous smile, never mind a full-blown interview. The coach insisted his players - “pleasant boys” - enjoyed a laugh and a joke … just not with foreigners, and certainly not with foreign journalists.

So, yes I did get far better access to the North Korean footballers than on my trip to Pyongyang. I was able to share conversations, on and off the record, with the backroom staff, though never about the latest missile test off the Korean peninsula. And I now have some knowledge of the kind of opposition North Korea will pose when they feature in South Africa next year. Whipping boys? Probably not, as they will improve, but I doubt whether the boys of 2010 will quite have the class of ‘66.

To hear more on my attempt to get up close and personal with North Korean footballers, listen to this week’s World Football on BBC World Service.