A TAVERN called Players Sports Restaurant and Lounge, on West 32nd Street near Broadway, is unlike most sports bars. You can choose from a selection of soju (Korean vodka) or order oh jing uh (dried squid) to go with your beer.
West 32nd Street is the heart of Koreatown, of course, and on Tuesday night, the entertainment suited the setting. On a large projection screen and seven television sets, the South Korean national baseball team was facing its archrival, Japan, in the second round of the World Baseball Classic.
“We usually come here to celebrate birthdays or just to party,” said John Choi, a Columbia pre-med student with a toothy smile. He and two friends sat on plush white benches in the middle of the noisy room. Two low tables were laden with shot glasses, a carafe of Coke, several bottles of Corona, a bottle of Johnny Walker Black and a plate of tong-dak, or fried chicken.
As the friends picked at the chicken with chopsticks, the South Korean batters picked apart Japan. At the end of the third inning, the score was South Korea 3, Japan 0. “I’m pretty sure we’re better than them,” Mr. Choi said.
One of his friends, a Princeton student named Jin Hyun Cheong, shed some light on the game’s historical context.
“Japan colonized Korea,” Mr. Cheong said. “They didn’t teach in Korean in the elementary schools. A lot of people in my grandfather’s generation only speak Japanese.”
At another table, Michael Yoo, a hedge-fund employee who played third base for a Little League team in Forest Hills, Queens, had this to say: “It’s a much bigger rivalry than the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees.”
Back at Mr. Choi’s table, three small glasses were filled with beer, and everyone drank. “When we watch baseball games,” Mr. Choi said, “it’s a combo of fried chicken and beer, not pizza.”
How about Cracker Jack? “We eat Saewookkang,” Mr. Choi said. “It’s a shrimp-flavored chip.”
During the regular South Korean baseball season, Mr. Choi roots for the LG Twins (of Seoul — Korean baseball teams are generally named after the companies or conglomerates that own them). On this night, a Twins pitcher, Jung Keun Bong, was on the mound. Mr. Choi and his friends respectfully referred to him as Mr. Bong.
Mr. Bong and his teammates would eventually win, 4-1. But at the moment, it appeared that the pitcher was in trouble: men on first and second, one out, top of the fourth. Then Seiichi Uchikawa, the Japanese designated hitter, grounded into a double play: Park to Jeong to Kim.
Mr. Choi and his friends celebrated American style, with high fives.
“Byung sal-ta,” Mr. Choi said.
Translation? “Side-by-side kill hit.”
