How the KFA Went from a "God-Hidden Workplace" to a "God-Forsaken Workplace"

Korean football is divided into before and after the 2002 World Cup. Prior to that, football was just one of many sports, and the Korea Football Association (KFA) was no different from other sports governing bodies.

However, in June 2002, when South Korea reached the semifinals of the global tournament, the nation was painted in red, and countless lives reached a turning point. Corporate investments poured into the football world, and exceptional talent flowed in. Numerous jobs were created, and among them, the KFA became the top workplace in South Korea's sports sector. While the organization previously struggled to fill top positions by drafting veterans from conglomerates (mainly the Hyundai group), it soon overflowed with young people who quit large companies to dream of the future from entry-level positions.

The peak came between 2009 and 2012. In 2012, the starting salary at the association was 42 million won. At the time, the Korean Sport & Olympic Committee, a prize-awarding body, offered 25 million won, and Samsung Electronics offered 41 million won. It is no wonder people called it a "workplace hidden by the gods."

This was during the term of President Cho Choong-yeon. As the successor to Chung Mong-joon (MJ), who had led the association for the preceding 16 years, he aimed for a paradigm shift from the "era of corporate chiefs" to the "era of sports figure chiefs." President Cho drastically increased the association's budget, which had been a mere 3 billion won when he served as secretary-general, ushering in the "100 billion won era."

Abrupt growth and expansion are always accompanied by side effects. Above all, the "moral hazard" of leadership was severe. Money was spent recklessly. The prevailing mindset was, "Since I contributed to growing a 3 billion won association into a 100 billion won one, I have the right to spend this much." Labor union figures who tried to check this were immediately penalized, and instead of fighting back, the union shifted toward leveraging the situation to increase their own "practical gains" (wages and benefits).

At the same time, the morality of football figures hit rock bottom. Match-fixing occurred on the pitch, and con artists masquerading as agents ran rampant as overseas transfers became active. Clubs engaged in secret dual contracts with foreign players to pocket kickbacks, some of which were funneled to referees under the guise of "bath money." Looking back, it was a chaotic mess where not a single place was functioning properly, but back then, it was masked as "customary practice."

After completing his term, President Cho expressed a strong desire for re-election, but decided to step back under Chung Mong-joon's mediation. Thus began the era of Chung Mong-gyu. Reflecting his personality and the environment at the time, President Chung pursued quiet and safe improvements rather than loud and bold reforms. His first term is regarded as the best-evaluated period of his tenure.

Nevertheless, President Chung Mong-gyu's ambition to open a "3000 billion won era" turned out to be empty promises, and Korean football is now receiving the grim bill of that corrupted "era of glory." An exodus has already been underway at the association for several years. Many of talented and capable young employees have already left or are considering changing jobs. COVID-19 and the relocation to Cheonan accelerated this phenomenon. Internally, self-deprecating complaints circulate that "escaping is a measure of one's ability."

Looking at the football association these days, it feels like a "workplace forsaken by the gods." Those who entered the association with ambitious dreams, captivated by the power of football in 2002, are now in their 40s and 50s. Although they bear no small share of responsibility, most of those enduring relentless bombardments—including parliamentary hearings, police search and seizures, and past misconduct controversies day after day—are individuals who have done their utmost for the development of Korean football in their respective positions. Lumping them together with football figures steeped in a false sense of privilege and those who coexisted with them makes every day feel like a punishment.

Are there any who are free from this responsibility? The media is no different. German journalist Thomas Kistner pointed out, "Journalists passionately report on football as if it were their own business, only pushing the heavenly play of Blatter [former FIFA president: serving from 1998 to 2015] even higher," and his self-reflection remains valid even a decade later. Just a few months ago, they hyped up Infantino's heavenly play as the greatest global football festival in history, sometimes even resorting to falsehoods, and now they are joining hands with the political sphere and law enforcement agencies to wield an "omnipotent sword."

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