Ssireum - pronounced like "see room" - had its heyday in the 1980s and early 1990s, when there were as many as eight professional teams and the top wrestlers became household names. Since then, it has been squeezed by tighter budgets and a public quick to move on to new trends.

Twenty-year-old Lee Eun-soo, who began training at the age of nine, is taking part in this year's Lunar New Year tournament, the showcase event for the more than 1,500-year-old sport.

Lee lamented that at his former high school, the ssireum team currently has no members and there is talk of disbanding it.

"I once tried to imagine my life if I hadn’t done ssireum," Lee said. "I don’t think I could live without it."

A ssireum match involves two wrestlers facing off in an eight-metre (26.25 ft) sandpit ring, gripping each other by a cloth belt called a "satba" and using strength, balance, timing and stamina to force the opponent to the ground.

Ssireum was inscribed on UNESCO's Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2018, but that international recognition has not translated into commercial success.

Its relative obscurity contrasts with the high profile of Japan's sumo, another centuries-old form of wrestling. Unlike sumo, which is supported by a centralised professional ranking system and six major annual tournaments - or Olympic wrestling, with its global reach - ssireum remains largely domestic.

"Sport is something people won't come to watch if they don’t know the wrestlers or even the sport itself," said Lee Tae-hyun, a former ssireum wrestler and Professor of Martial Arts at Yong In University, who has promoted the sport overseas and believes it has commercial potential with the right backing.

Lee Hye-soo, 25, a spectator at the Lunar New Year tournament, said many Koreans are now unfamiliar with ssireum.

"My grandfather liked watching ssireum, so I watched it with him a lot when I was young," she said.

"I like it now too, but I think it would be even better if it became more famous."