Call me competitive, but I admit I watched the medal count in the Olympics every day of the events in Paris and, sometimes, multiple times a day. Two numbers mattered most to me: the USA and South Korea. When the events came to an end on Sunday, the numbers were fixed and there was a lot for us Korean Americans to be proud of.
First, the USA garnered the most medals of any nation. By a wide margin. In this time of excruciating political division in our country, seeing the images of so many American athletes from every part of the U.S. at the pinnacle of achievement was a blessing. Not just winning, but doing so with such class and substance. Could America have any better representation of character and commitment than Simone Biles, Katy Ledecky, or Steph Curry?
For Korean Americans, there is another source of pride: South Korea won 8th place in the gold medal standings. Eighth out of 83 nations, far exceeding some of the most populous, like India, and beating the most well-developed, like Germany, Spain and Italy. Yonhap reported on this feat, referring to the “overachieving South Koreans.”
But there was another story that also caught my eye. The NY Times reported that in the events involving “weapons,” South Korea won the most gold medals.
A “weapon” event means one involving a gun, sword, spear, or bow and arrow. In archery, of course, South Koreans are perennial champions for men and women, and they have excelled in this sport for decades. This Olympics was no different, as they totally dominated the sport. Hunger Games anyone?
If you consider the human body in martial arts to also be a weapon (and I do), that adds to the South Korean medal count. In taekwondo, judo and boxing, South Koreans added to their medal count. As befits the origins of taekwondo, South Korea won gold in both the men and women categories in two weight classes.
All of which got me to thinking: are Korean Olympians the most lethal athletes on the world stage? They basically excel in all the skills that James Bond might use to overthrow the bad guys. They are literally the world’s best in these events.
When considering how cool this is, you have to start with Kim Ye Ji, whose pistol shooting style went viral on social media. She won silver in the 10-meter shooting event, only beaten by her Korean teammate, Oh Ye-jin, who won gold.
Angular and sharp-edged, she is almost gaunt, a world-weary coldness to her steely stare when she is in the zone. Her pale skin is set against her all-black, one-eye blinder, hat and suit. Against that ninja severity, a gray toy elephant hangs from her hips. She cocks her head against her shooting arm, an arrow-straight extension of her long silver pistol. Her entire torso seems to crouch behind the sight of her pistol, except that her left hand casually sits in her pants pocket.
And when she hits her mark, breaking a world record, she seems almost bored, like she killed another evil-doer, one of many to go. People went wild, comparing her to James Bond and a manga character familiar only to the world of anime. Elon Musk piped in, suggesting that she star in an action movie, “no acting required!”
The fact is, she would be cool even without her compelling outward style. She is an Olympian in sharpshooting, after all. She was only beaten to the gold podium by the 19-year-old South Korean Oh Ye-jin, whom Kim reportedly loves like a younger sister. Oh has none of Kim’s style. Instead, she looks and acts like a typical Korean teenager: ebullient and modest while peering behind her giant glasses. A round face grins from ear to ear. You can imagine her giggling with her friends at a bubble tea café in Seoul, but in Paris, she smashed the Olympic record for shooting accuracy. If you’ve ever tried shooting a pistol air-gun at 10 meters, you know how wildly inaccurate it can be. Oh is more accurate than any human has ever been.
You would do well not to get on Oh’s bad side. Nor would you want to tick off another youngster who might also be found in that café, 16-year-old Ban Hyo-jin who won gold in the male 10-meter air-gun event. Or the archery champion, Kim Woo-jin, or Lee Da-bin, the taekwondo gold medalist. These people are deadly!
But I have a special fondness for the most classic “weapons” category of all, fencing. It is here that the South Koreans’ success is just unbelievable. Archery and taekwondo are deeply embedded in Korean heritage, but fencing? That sport originated in Europe as the training exercise for actual combat (think Alexander Dumas’ Three Musketeers). The modern sport features three weapons (and, yes, they are officially called “weapons” not swords): foil, saber, and epee.
Each weapon has its own distinct style, form and rules. Different people with different temperaments tend to do better with one weapon over the others. I was a fencer in college and chose saber as the weapon that best suited me. You can score with either the point or the edge of the blade (like a real sword!), and so its matches tend to be the fastest, generally rewarding speed and aggression. It is said to have originated with the cavalry swordsman who would slash their opponents as their mounts sped by.
South Koreans have shown a very specific interest and success in saber fencing. The Olympic gold medalist in saber this year is Oh Sang-uk, a freakishly good athlete who stands at 6’4” and moves like lightning up and down the piste (the strip that is the designated field you cannot cross, about 46 feet long and 5 feet wide). Built like Atlas, his boyish face and gentlemanly courtesy are now well known on the international fencing circuit. Even with a bad ankle that had been plaguing him this entire year, Oh destroyed the field on his way to the podium. He then led his other three Korean teammates to win gold in the team saber event, beating the fearsome Hungarians. Three years ago, in the Tokyo Olympics, the Koreans had won gold as well.
In the year 2000, Korea basically came out of nowhere to seize elite saber fencing status. Suddenly, at the Sydney Olympics in 2000, Koreans began winning medals; then in London in 2012, the Korean men’s saber team won gold, and the individual female saber gold medalist was Korean. According to KBS World, Korean fencers’ greatest strength is their quick and agile footwork. Most of them are not as tall as their European opponents and they rely instead on their speed and technical precision.
The popular Korean Netflix series “Twenty Five – Twenty One” features the life and challenges of a young female saber champion, and fencing is quickly becoming one of the most popular sports in Korea.
This all begs the question, why are Koreans so attracted to, and great at, weapons events? After centuries of defending themselves against more powerful invading nations, are Koreans hard-wired to turn to weapons for defense? Darwin probably wouldn’t buy that explanation. Or maybe it’s just that these events all require a combination of technique, extreme focus and individual commitment and Koreans tend to be good in those areas? Like the Korean women who constantly top the LPGA rankings (including Korean-New Zealander Lydia Ko who won Olympic gold!). I think there’s more to it than that, but I don’t know what.
In the meantime, imagine a team of Kim Ye-jin the pistol sharpshooter, Oh Sang-uk the saber fencer, Kim Woo-jin the archer, and Lee Da-bin the taekwondo champion, and tell me what country presents a more lethal team.