Images of the attendant Eusebio dominated the beginning of the Portugal v. North Korea coverage as this fixture had everyone harking back to his incredible performance in Portugal’s comeback after going 3-0 when they played North Korea in 1966. It’s always worth another look, if only for those crazy curved cut-outs behind the goals at Goodison, installed to stop fans chucking sharpened coins and other missiles at the away team’s keeper, I’ll have you know:

It was doubly apt to see Eusebio I thought, as he was the first African footballing superstar really as despite making a name for himself with Portugal, he was actually from the former Portugese colony of Mozambique that borders South Africa.
Ronaldo may have been cattle-prodded after the first game as to his duties as captain because instead of bowing his head in apparent discomfiture at how lame and unfashionable national anthems are, he was seen reluctantly mouthing a few lines this time. Meanwhile, next to him, the goalkeeper Eduardo finished belting it out passionately and let out a motivational roar which suggested he may have just snorted a couple of lines.
There was no blubbing this time from the previously overwhelmed Jong Tae-Se who instead shut his eyes tight and thought of their long-deceased ‘eternal president’ Kim Il-Sung. I’ve done a bit of research into Jong Tae-Se’s background and remarkably, despite being moved to tears when standing for the national anthem against Brazil, he’s never actually lived in North Korea. Born in Nagoya and playing his football in Japan, he attended a private ‘Chongryon’ school in Japan that’s funded by the Korean Residents’ Association so that people can be brought up the ‘North Korean way’. Hmm…You too can have that human rights-bereft Totalitarian Stalinist Dictatorship experience in the comfort of the free world. Sounds like fun! That residents’ association also doubles up as the de facto North Korean Embassy in Japan who sorted out a passport for him in compliance with FIFA eligibility criteria. It all seems extremely sinister to me but, like the inaccurately-named Democratic People’s Republic of Korea itself, is oddly fascinating.
Also of interest are that six of the squad play for the snappily-named April 25th FC (military foundation day apparently) and that the team are nicknamed The Chollima, after a mythical flying horse, as pictured below here:

Although I’m certain they ultimately wished they’d never bothered, I’m not entirely sure when the North Korean people would’ve got to see this game. Their previous game against Brazil was shown on TV a full 17 hours after it had finished because the game kicked off in the middle of the night over there and, as there’s no television transmissions allowed at that time, they instead showed delayed coverage at prime time the following evening.