Scarves pulled tight and breath fogging the air, more than 50 people ranging from teenagers to those in their 30s gathered at Seoul’s Olympic Park around 3 p.m. on Saturday, stamping their feet against the sub-zero cold.
After a brief exchange of casual greetings, the group split into two teams. Minutes later, office workers in padded coats and teenagers in sneakers were sprinting across the pavement, slipping on uneven patches and shouting warnings to strangers as they played Cops and Robbers, a childhood game of tag.
“It’s a trend these days on social media. I saw this particular group meeting on Karrot and decided to join,” said 34-year-old Lee Jeong-min, pausing to catch his breath. Karrot is South Korea’s largest neighborhood-based secondhand marketplace.
“At first, I thought it would be weird because of the wide age range,” Lee added. “But in the end, it was fun for everyone.”
Since late December, recruitment posts for Cops and Robbers meet-ups have flooded Karrot, while short-form videos and reviews of the gatherings have gone viral on social media. Many groups impose age limits, often restricting participation to those in their 20s, framing the events as a chance for young adults to briefly return to childhood.
This meet-up, however, was open to all.
Laughter echoed across the park as participants spent more than an hour rotating through familiar playground games, including Freeze Tag and Red Light, Green Light. Jackets were tossed aside, faces flushed red, and knees bent cautiously as players sized up competitors decades younger or older than themselves.
After a quick group photo, the crowd dispersed as easily as it had formed. A few exchanged social media handles, but no future plans were made; the commitment, like the game itself, fleeting.
Later that evening, a separate group gathered at Ttukseom Hangang Park in eastern Seoul. Around 40 participants, mostly high school seniors and people in their early 20s, arrived around 6 p.m., some already dressed in athletic gear.
This group was more systematic. As soon as participants were divided into teams, robbers were handed glow sticks to mark their side. The playing field stretched across a wide plaza and an adjacent playground, significantly larger than the Olympic Park setting earlier that afternoon.
“There aren’t many opportunities to run around and play when you’re in your thirties,” said 36-year-old social worker Kim Tae-hoon, rubbing his hands to fight the cold. “It gives us a chance to return to our childhood innocence.”
The evening’s games were led by 32-year-old Park Hyo-beom, who began organizing such gatherings before they gained widespread attention online.
“I started organizing these events here in Gwangjin-gu right before Christmas because I wanted to do aerobic exercise while still having fun,” Park said.
Since late December 2025, Park has organized six such meet-ups and plans to host another this coming weekend.
He said participants have ranged in age from teenagers to people in their 50s, adding that the games offered a rare space where people from different walks of life could casually interact without formal introductions or expectations.
Park’s group rotated through the same playground games, but on a much longer timeline. The event lasted nearly five hours, with participants finally limping home around 11 p.m.
“At first I was a bit drained, but it was really fun,” said 26-year-old Jung Jeong-mog, who stayed until the end. “Now that I’m in my late 20s, it’s definitely more of a strain,” he added, laughing.
However, as the games stretched into the night, concerns also surfaced. Around 9 p.m., a park security officer approached the group, explaining that complaints had been filed about noise and disturbance.
The group scaled down its activities and moved to the adjacent playground, away from other park goers. But noise was not the only issue raised by bystanders.
“People playing Cops and Robbers at parks, please don’t tag me while I walk my dog!” one onlooker wrote on social media, explaining that players had mistakenly approached passersby with toy hammers, assuming they were part of the game.
Similar incidents occurred at Ttukseom Hangang Park that evening.
“I had to hurry to apologize after I crept up and tagged someone because I thought they were one of us,” said a high school senior surnamed Ahn. “They were really surprised.”
As participants gradually headed home, opinions differed on whether the trend would last.
“I think I’ll keep coming once or twice a month,” Jung said, half jokingly suggesting I join next time.
Others were more skeptical. “You see how everyone joined running crews last year, and now no one runs,” said a participant surnamed Koh. “I think this will follow the same course.”
Still, on Saturday night, questions about how long things would continue seemed beside the point. As tired legs carried people home, the park returned to its usual quiet.
For a few hours, strangers of different ages had run, collided and laughed like children again, before dispersing just as easily back into adult life.
seungku99@heraldcorp.com
