Kotaku
Jim Rossignol, from PC Gamer UK, reposted his excellent write-up on Korean gaming culture for PC Gamer on his website. The rather lengthy article chronicles his trip to South Korea and research into why Korean gamers are both fanatical and so very different from the rest of the world's gamers.
Seoul, South Korea. To a fanfare of Asian nu-metal and the sound of a thousand screaming fans, a young Korean man enters a dazzling arena. Like an American wrestler at the heart of a glitter-glazed Royal Rumble, he strides down a ramp towards the stage. Adorned in what appears to be a space suit and a large white cape, he heads out to meet his opponent on the stadium s ziggurat focus. Amid a blaze of flashbulbs and indoor fireworks he climbs the steps, and is exulted by the thronging crowd. Only twenty years old, and with no less than half a dozen TV cameras tracking his progress, this bizarre figure seems to be unfazed by his predicament. Diligently he waves to the crowd.
My interpreter, the amiable Mr Yang, leans forward. To my brother he is a great hero. My brother can t get enough of this. He has been to see him play many times.
So this guy has a lot of fans? I say, knowing the answer but nevertheless incredulous.
Hundreds of thousands in his fan club, says Yang. Impossible to track the number of people who watch him play.
Impossible, because the man on the stage is on Korean television almost every day. He is about to sit down and play what is close to becoming Korea s national sport: Starcraft. His name is Lee Yunyeol, or in game [RED]NaDa Terran. He is The Champion. Last year his reported earnings were around $200,000. He plays a seven year-old RTS for fame and fortune and to many Koreans he is an idol. Every night over half a million Koreans log on to Battlenet and make war in space, many of them with dreams of becoming like Yunyeol. But his skill is almost supernatural. Few people who play all day long will be able to claim a fraction of his split-second timing and pitiless concentration. Practicing eight hours a day, Yunyeol s methods and tactics are peerless. Well, almost peerless. In fact there are two or three other players who command similar salaries. They might not hold the crown now, and one of them will probably take it from him soon, but for now at least, Yunyeol is king.
While the story is a worthy read and offers some interesting insight into how gamers and game publishers act in Korea, it never really figures out why.
I'm personally fascinated with this topic because I lived in Seoul for a few years back in the early 80s and there didn't even seem to be a sign of the PC gaming boom that has since swept the nation.
I mean, I had trouble finding arcades and there certainly weren't any Net Cafes. I'm guessing that Rossignol is right on at least one reason for the explosive growth, nationalized broadband.
Sex, Fame and PC Baangs: How the Orient plays host to PC gaming s strangest culture [Thanks Jim and Tim]
