“Chinese football is saved!” Such was the jubilation expressed by some netizens during the recent inaugural Jiangsu Football City League. Having weathered years of heartbreak in China’s less-than-stellar domestic football environment, dogged by corruption scandals and match-fixing, the provincial grassroots competition provided a glimmer of hope for what Chinese football could be, grabbing massive attention online and sparking excitement across the country.

The amateur competition, which kicked off May 10, was nicknamed the “Su-per League (苏超 Sūchāo),” a playful abbreviation of the local official league’s name: the Jiangsu Football City League. And as a mark of its popularity, some fixtures drew larger crowds than those of the Chinese Super League. The second round alone attracted over 59,000 fans, with individual matchups like Xuzhou versus Lianyungang and Yancheng versus Huai’an bringing in 22,000 spectators.

The enthusiasm was in part fueled by the league’s inclusive nature, with each of Jiangsu’s 13 prefecture-level cities sending a team to compete. Embracing the spirit of “If you’ve got what it takes, you’re in (你行你上 Nǐ xíng nǐ shàng),” the amateur players spanned from small business owners to college students, and even high schoolers, sparking a football frenzy in the province.

Viewers lauded the competition for its authenticity and fairness:

Fans quickly abandoned their cordiality, even discarding a famous sports motto from the height of Ping-Pong Diplomacy in the 1970s:

Instead, they embraced a harsher creed:

In terms of football infrastructure development and established fan bases, cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Liaoning, and Guangdong are home to bigger teams. But the popularity of the “Su-per League” spoke to more fundamental sentiments in the region, becoming a cultural carnival and conjuring Jiangsu’s particular, longstanding inter-city rivalries.

When Wuxi, whose citizens are famously sweet-toothed, lost their away game against Taizhou, fans joked about the reason:

As for Taizhou, they won because of a 主场优势 (zhǔchǎng yōushì, home-field advantage), playing up the fact that it’s Jiangsu’s only prefecture-level city still without a high-speed rail connection:

Meanwhile, the match between Xuzhou—hometown of Liu Bang (刘邦), the founding emperor of the Han dynasty (206 BCE – 220 CE)—and Suqian, birthplace of warlord Xiang Yu (项羽), Liu’s arch-nemesis, was hailed as a “reenactment of the banquet at Hongmen (复刻鸿门宴 fùkè Hóngmén yàn),” where Liu famously escaped an assassination attempt by Xiang. Now, a millennium-old rivalry (跨越千年的宿仇 kuàyuè qiānnián de sùchóu) between the two cities has found new life on the scoreboard.

As for the match between Taizhou and Nantong, the rallying cry went:

It is because Taizhou takes pride in its traditional morning dim sum, while Nantong is renowned nationwide for its academic excellence, as reflected in its usually superlative gaokao, or college entrance exam results. Known as one of the most competitive exam regions, Nantong has developed a running joke that test papers are its prized “specialty.” Some even say night markets there sell nothing but test papers (南通夜市不卖别的，卖试卷 Nántōng yèshì bú mài bié de, mài shìjuàn).

To outsiders, the intense rivalries began to make it seem like Jiangsu’s citizens had forgotten that they were provincial brethren. The uncompromising feuding could be summed up with the refrain:

Netizens joked that only Jiangsu could come up with such a brilliant idea, pitting city football teams against each other purely for the spirit of competition. Long been dubbed “散装江苏 (sǎnzhuāng Jiāngsū)” or “loose-packed Jiangsu,” the province is known for its strong, independent city cultures shaped by diverse geography, distinct historical traditions, and varied economic strengths.

Jiangsu stretches north to south across the lower reaches of both the Huai and Yangtze rivers, natural boundaries that have long divided not only daily life but also political powers throughout history. Additionally, the region’s varied climate has fostered a clear cultural divide between northern and southern Jiangsu. Given the distinctive culinary traditions and local dialects across the province, it’s practically impossible to generalize what a Jiangsu person should be like, prompting netizens to conclude:

As the second largest economy in China after Guangdong, Jiangsu is also the only province where every prefecture-level city has a GDP exceeding 400 billion yuan. This economic strength has helped nurture a fierce pride across the region, and a healthy dose of competition. Some netizens stoked the conflict, saying:

Widely known as the “13 Guardians (十三太保 Shísān Tàibǎo),” a term originally referring to the fierce sons of Li Keyong (李克用), a military governor during the late Tang dynasty (618 – 907), Jiangsu’s 13 prefecture-level cities each have their own unique identity, pride, and cultural quirks.

This online frenzy not only sparked a flood of memes and jokes but also translated into a real-world boost for local culinary scenes, tourism growth, and intercity exchange. For example, ahead of a home game in Changzhou, the city offered free admission to its A-level scenic sites for visiting fans from Yangzhou, resulting in over 60,000 visitors flooding the city on game day, with even more tourists arriving during the subsequent Dragon Boat Festival. Meanwhile, the provincial capital Nanjing offered discounts at 30 tourist attractions, 80 restaurants, and 20 shopping malls for anyone with a match ticket.

As the fourth round of the league kicks off on June 14, the “Su-per League” is fast becoming more than just a competition—it’s a unifying force where Jiangsu’s diverse communities come together, rallying behind their cities and embracing a shared identity through football.