Naturalization? - 6
The Son Jinho naturalization story that exploded in Germany was first covered in Asia not in Korea, but in Japan.
There were far more Japanese reporters on the ground in Germany than Korean ones, creating a wild variety of perspectives.
They quickly wired back stories about Son Jinho—known as Shinji Kagawa's close friend and a handsome player with tons of fans in Japan—regarding his potential naturalization.
It wasn't even that Son Jinho had naturalized; it was just German media mentioning the idea once.
To them, boring facts didn't matter—what pulled in readers was juicy gossip.
The articles gradually twisted into something more sensational to suit their tastes.
Japanese netizens unleashed a torrent of mocking reactions to the Son Jinho naturalization rumors.
"Whoa!?! Son Jinho naturalization rumors are blowing up in Japan!"
Korean reporters, who were tuned into Japanese news, naturally caught wind of the rumors and the Japanese reactions.
"What are you waiting for! Copy-paste and post it! This is gonna rack up views!"
Was it because this was peak anti-Japanese sentiment, the era when you couldn't even lose at rock-paper-scissors to Japan?
"Hey! What's with that title?! It's boring! How about 'Traitor to the Nation Son Jinho'? Let's go with that."
"Wouldn't '21st Century Yi Wan-yong Son Jinho' be better? And, what about the article content?"
"If he naturalizes, write that he's a traitor to the nation, the 21st-century Yi Wan-yong."
Korea's ragtag reporters ignited a sense of mission: they couldn't lose to Japan's hacks.
The naturalization news from Japan and Japanese netizen reactions were reshaped to Korean reporters' tastes.
The articles were written during rush hour, but as most people had switched from feature phones to smartphones, commuters encountered Son Jinho stories on their way to work, and internet communities exploded with reactions.
And with that, three days passed.
"...What the hell is this."
I let out a sigh as I looked at today's newspaper.
The naturalization rumor that started in Germany, went through Japan, and hit Korea was now being reverse-exported from Korea through Japan back to Germany.
Judging by how fast the fire was spreading, I figured I needed to do an interview with the press ASAP.
If word got out that the German Football Association had actually offered me naturalization, who knew how far this would spread.
As I stared at the paper with a serious expression,
"So, what're you gonna do about nationality?"
Han Gyeowol, who had snuck up and hugged me, asked cautiously.
"Dunno. Think I'll stick with Korea."
I answered flatly. After mulling it over from every angle,
choosing my home country, Korea, still felt like the best call.
No matter how messed up the soccer association was, it was where I was born and raised—there was some affection there.
'They say you become patriotic when you go abroad. Is that it?'
Yeah. Plus, the benefits of naturalizing in Germany weren't as huge as I'd thought.
Gerard Asamoah retiring from the German national team due to racism was just five years ago.
He'd become a symbol breaking racial barriers as a black player on the team, sure.
But I had zero interest in becoming an icon of anti-racism resistance like him.
'Not like giving someone a disease and then the cure. What kinda nonsense is that.'
Well... I could end up like France's Zinedine Zidane, an icon of social integration, but everyone knew that road was full of hardship.
I messaged Mino Raiola, then stroked Han Gyeowol's hair. I didn't want the people I cared about getting hurt because of my choice.
With that interview to the German press on naturalization, I committed to the Korean national team.
'But why the hell haven't these guys contacted me yet?'
For some reason, the association—my one nagging worry—still hadn't reached out.
'What fresh screw-up are these bastards plotting to stay this quiet?'
Their eerie silence only made me more anxious.
One month before Son Jinho's interview with German media on the naturalization rumors.
The Korean Football Association was, quite literally, five minutes from total chaos.
After the Sapporo disaster, coach Park Kwang-rae was sacked, and the association president and top execs were arrested for breach of trust, plunging the KFA into turmoil.
Unable to even appoint a new national team coach, they drew a dismal match against Kuwait, enraging the public.
Fueled by public outrage, politicians started piling on the association.
After imprisoned ex-president Jo Yeon-jong, new president Jeong Do-jun purged all his allies, dumping all blame on predecessors.
"What about Choi Gi-hyeon?"
Choi Gi-hyeon, lumped in with Jo's faction, came up in discussions.
"You know how tight he is with Son Jinho? Why keep messing with a kid killing it abroad! Leave him be!"
Thanks to his ties with Son Jinho, the guy in charge of his Germany stint kept his job.
The association shifted blame to the ex-president and his crew—minus Choi—but
public fury at the association showed no signs of cooling.
As public opinion soured and political pressure mounted,
news of Son Jinho's naturalization buzz from Germany hit.
Execs laughed off the clickbait headlines at first,
But when the reverse-exported Korean story hit German media again,
"This has to be Choi Gi-hyeon and Son Jinho colluding, right? No smoke without fire!"
The panicked association heard the truth from Choi but couldn't believe it easily.
"He's just one player! He needs to sacrifice for the organization!"
Some pushed to scapegoat Son Jinho to break through.
To them, protecting their positions mattered more than Korean soccer's growth.
New president Jeong Do-jun, who first dismissed it as unverified, faced a shoddy construction scandal at his company.
Desperate to divert attention, he ordered a smear campaign against Son Jinho.
As the association-orchestrated articles flooded the media and public anger turned toward Son Jinho,
Son Jinho's German interview hit domestic news.