Where the Heart is
The Story of Song Ju-Gong finding a new home, and IIHF team, away from home.

“If you go anywhere, even paradise, you will miss your home.” - Malala Yousafzai

How many young boys and girls daydream at night, watching their idol’s play hockey on a screen while dreaming they could live like those heroes? To score the winning goal, to make the winning shootout save, to have thousands and thousands of fans wearing your jersey, chanting your name, singing your praises. It was something out of a fantasy, something you could aspire to do, but only those superheroes on TV ever achieved. To be a Four-Star winning goalie, a captain of an exciting SHL team on the rise. What else could anyone want?

For Song Ju-gong that answer is simple. To be home.

To step out into the humid streets of Busan, to rattle around in the metro trains with their familiar lights and sounds, to enjoy a hot bowl of Dwaeji-gukbap on a winter's day.

To see his parents, to talk to them face to face, to belong in a way that only your home can provide.

You always feel when you’re somewhere new, and to be launched into the coldness of Quebec City as a teenager, this feeling was emphasized well to the point of homesickness. A new city, two new languages, and no friends or family around to share worries and concerns with - those were all half the world away, sound asleep. Everything from finding things to eat, all the way to taking out the trash, it was all so different. Even after his rookie season at QCC, Ju-gong wanted to be nowhere else but home, and two days after playoff elimination, was on a plane back to Korea as if escaping a plague.

He enjoyed hockey, he enjoyed the fanfare, he enjoyed every practice and spending time with his teammates. But this wasn’t home, and he felt it every day. By the time it came to return to Canada for his next season, enthusiasm was still underlined by a quiet sense of dread.

At least coming back for his second season, he had some routines - and more sense - to rely on. Navigating the westernized grocery stores became more of a seamless activity, he had more than a single jacket prepared for the bitter winter to come, and he knew a decent bit of English and even French to get by as needed. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to survive in a foreign country. The easier things became, the easier it all was to focus on hockey and stop thinking of home so much. From foreigner to visitor, every day spent stepping outside and seeing the cloud air of his breath made things feel all the more familiar.

The weeks would pass, the months would go, two seasons turned into three, then four, and then finally the move to Montreal came as the SHL was calling.

This time around, there wasn’t any grand new experience, no new languages, no new weather on his skin. It was all more or less the same as before, it was all familiar as it had been back in Quebec City. The only real change to adapt to was the cast of new faces he came to train with, a bunch of other talented J players he had battled before, graduated and now aiming for the ultimate prize. Undistracted by the change of scenery, this time Ju-gong was able to focus on hockey. As he reached his 5th year playing in Quebec, it never even crossed his mind that he had become eligible for Canadian citizenship - until a single call would question his foundation.

Canada needed a backup goaltender for the upcoming IIHF tournament, and they wanted the Korean born player to fill the role.

At first it made a lot of sense, South Korea was a long, long way off qualifying to such later stages of the IIHF tournament. He had seen it before at the youth levels of playing for South Korea, one goaltender could never stop a team of vastly talented skaters, no matter how hard he tried - and he had certainly tried. Canada would not only give him a team he could play for during the offseason, but he would be doing so against the best of the best, a sure way to improve and deal with pressure situations. But deep down something still felt wrong about it all, he was Korean, not Canadian. South Korea was home, Canada was… something else.

Playing out the rest of his season with Montreal, the question constantly weighed on his mind. A loop that went round again and again. “This is a great idea”. “Am I really Canadian enough to do this”? “I am Korean before anything else”. This battle raged on and on as the season carried on, even coming down to the final months of the campaign.

The turning point came after a dramatic home win against Hamilton, a flurry of three late goals sending the Patriotes onto a win in front of their faithful. Wrapping up in a black wool jacket and scarf, Ju-gong braced the frigid air with a casual pace to his steps. As he liked to do, he walked home from the arena to his apartment downtown. Bedecked in winter attire, only a few faithful fans would call out to him on his casual stroll, replying with a grateful “Merci beaucoup!” to all those praises for their win. Once home, he celebrated in his own way, munching on a few cheezies while setting up his computer for a Zoom call back home to his parents.

This wasn’t home, it never would be. But it was still something that mattered.

Nothing would ever change his roots, but roots alone don't make you who you are. For five long years Ju-gong had grown not just as a player, but as a person in Quebec. No matter where he moved or where he went from here, there would always be a part of Canada with him, forever part of his path in life. This place was ingrained in him, just as he was to all the fans of Quebec City and Montreal always cheering his name. A part of his heart would always be up here in the cold north, and by that measure, a little bit of his home was securely here too. Aside from the sweet sweet confines of a hot and humid day in Busan, there was no place else he’d rather be.

There was only one thing left to do. He picked up his phone, and sent a quick text - just a few simple words to change his world forever.

“I’m ready”

 

2x IIHF media