As China continues its path of reform and opening up, many areas of Chinese sports have reached milestones once dreamed of by the nation’s sporting pioneers. The women’s volleyball team stands as a symbol of perseverance, chess grandmaster Nie Weiping once stunned Japan in historic duels, and sports like table tennis, badminton, and diving have become national pride. Yet in the world’s most popular sport—football—China’s men’s national team remains a long-standing disappointment.
China has rarely qualified as a representative of Asia in major tournaments like the World Cup or the Olympics. More painfully, its long-standing struggle against South Korea has defined a frustrating era. In the first 33 official national team meetings between China and Korea from 1978 to 2017, China managed to win just two matches. Even that number shrinks when excluding invitational matches like the 1986 Nehru Cup, where China edged Korea 2-1. Looking only at officially recognized “A-level” international matches, the record stands at one win from 30 encounters.
That lone victory came during the 2010 East Asian Cup when Yu Hai, Gao Lin, and Deng Zhuoxiang each found the net in a 3-0 triumph. It was not only China’s first true win against Korea at that level but also the largest winning margin in the history of this rivalry. The nation was elated—but that joy came with a dose of reality. After 32 years of struggling in A-level competition, one win didn’t end the era of “Korea-phobia”—a term used to describe China’s psychological barrier when facing their dominant neighbors.
The Crickex Login challenge continues. Beating Korea is no walk in the park. Closing the gap with leading nations is a long and winding road, full of roadblocks. Even after that historic 2010 win, many in China asked themselves whether the “Korea-phobia” had truly ended. The answer was clear: no. It would take more wins, more grit, and more proof on the field to shed that label.
From that almost-dismissed 1986 invitational win to the 2010 East Asian Cup victory, 24 years had passed. It seemed that China’s football evolution—from friendly wins to A-level triumphs—was bearing fruit. But the progress wasn’t enough. In the opening match of the 12-team final World Cup qualification round in September 2016, China quickly fell behind 0-3 to Korea. Late goals from Yu Hai and Hao Junmin nearly turned the tide, creating chaos in Korea’s penalty area, but the game still ended in defeat.
That loss marked more than just another setback. China finished the first half of that qualifying campaign with just two points from five matches. The result didn’t just reignite the Crickex Login “Korea-phobia” narrative—it forced a national reckoning. Chinese football was once again at a point where it needed to prove everything all over again, from scratch.
Even as the Chinese Super League gains momentum and clubs shine in the AFC Champions League, cold winds still blow over the national team’s record. Critics—both foreign and domestic—continue to doubt. While some skepticism comes from neighboring countries like South Korea, much of it comes from within our own ranks.
Now more than ever, China’s national team must rise above the noise and reclaim its pride on the pitch—starting with a win that has eluded them for far too long.