From China: Hockey pioneers on a path toward ’22 Olympics

SOUTH KENT — The 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing are years in the future, but for three hockey players at South Kent School the games glisten on the horizon. 

In their native China, rinks are popping up like carnival tents. Meanwhile, nearly 7,000 miles away, Zimeng Chen, Songyuan Shi and Yufei He — all three are students at South Kent School — are honing their skills with zeal, hopeful of donning their country’s colors and taking the ice in Beijing.  

“That’s the ultimate goal,” said Chen, 18, the oldest of the three. “Not many kids have the chance to compete in the Olympics. To do it on your home soil with your fellow countrymen would be incredibly special.” 

It’s a starry vision for Chen, Shi and He, but not one that’s out of reach. The three boys are strong hockey players with limitless room for improvement; at South Kent, they play up to 70 games each year against some of the best junior competition in the U.S. Moreover, the thin player pool back home means competition for spots on the national team isn’t especially vigorous.  

‘Manly and cool’

It’s the latter factor that makes Chen, Shi and He unlikely hockey players to start with. Though often at the forefront of athletic competition, China has never been known for its prowess in hockey. Even as sports like speed skating and figure skating rose to national popularity, hockey remained in the shadows. 

But Chen, Shi and He weren’t concerned with popular opinion or past sentiment. They refused to overlook the sport simply because so many of their compatriots had before them. To them, hockey was appealing for its high speed, creative maneuvering and expressions of strength, and it wasn’t long before the three boys hopped over the boards and joined the fray. 

Chen was first inspired by one of his mother’s friends, whom he had the pleasure of watching one afternoon in a small rink in one of Beijing’s many shopping malls. 

“I saw him get into his gear and just fly around on the ice,” Chen recalled, smiling at the memory. “I thought it was manly, and cool, so I decided to give it a shot.” 

For He, 15, and Shi, 16, the initial lure of the sport was the same.  

“When I saw the kids with all their gear on, skating really fast and shooting pucks, I knew I had to try it,” said He, before the focus turned to Shi. 

“I thought the goalie pads were like a transformer’s,” he smiled, his boyish nature peaking though his formal school attire. “It was heavy, but I got used to it.” 

As much as the boys loved to play, there were few rinks in Beijing and competition was hard to find. Youth leagues were only just beginning to take shape, and with no more than a handful of teams in the city, opportunities for organized games were few and far between. Often, the boys had to fly to Hong Kong for tournaments and Chen recalled inviting teams from Korea, Japan and Singapore to China for friendly exhibitions.

(For youth hockey parents tired of being dragged throughout New England, try being flung across a continent.)

Academics above all

Beyond the logistical limitations, the boys were up against a culture that expected academic success at the expense of everything else. As Chen, Shi and He remember it, school was to come first. Period. Hockey wasn’t looked at so much as a pursuit or a passion but as a distraction, a disruption to the educational process. Their teams only practiced once a weekend, twice if they were lucky, and never Monday through Friday. 

“It was hard to find time for sports because of the emphasis on school,” Chen explained. 

‘Greatest sport on the planet’

Finally, there was the frustration of playing a sport that was struggling to gain respect. Hockey was still very much on the outskirts of China’s athletic landscape when Chen, Shi and He began playing, and references to the sport were mostly met with blank stares and confusion.   

“When you mentioned hockey, no one knew what it was and you had to explain it to them. That really pissed me off,” He remembered. 

Chen empathized with him, but was also quick to clarify that the lack of recognition wasn’t discouraging. 

“We played the game because we loved it, we didn’t expect attention from anyone. Hockey is the greatest sport on the planet and that’s all the reason there is to play.” 

But as they continued to improve, they outgrew Beijing’s fledgling youth hockey system. Before he was even 13 years old, Chen was playing in beer leagues with full-grown men because he “simply wasn’t willing to give it up.” It was around this time he began seriously considering the idea of high school in the U.S., realizing he could no longer chase his dream back home.  

He, though three years younger than Chen, was mulling the same decision at the time. He wound up attending sixth- through eighth-grade at a boarding school in Minnesota, while Chen enrolled at the Brooks School in Andover, Mass., at the start of ninth grade. Shi followed them to the U.S. in 2015, after a South Kent hockey coach watched him play at a showcase in Beijing this past summer and offered him a scholarship. (He, who was home at the time, served as the translator between player and coach.)

The three boys finally came together just over a month ago, when Chen transferred to South Kent for the second semester of his senior year. 

Opportunity and a burden

They’re here to grow as people and they’re here to grow as students. Chen has enjoyed the creativity in American classrooms, Shi has seen his language skills improve exponentially, and all three boys speak to an increased feeling of independence. 

But they’re here, most directly, to grow as hockey players. 

It’s an endeavor that transcends their own desires. Chen, Shi and He are at the forefront of a movement, and their performance stands for something greater than themselves. The viability of Chinese hockey is measured through its North American ambassadors, and the trio from Beijing is striving to make a positive impression.

“When we’re here we represent our country, so we need to show our best so people will respect Chinese hockey,” said Shi, as Chen and Ye nodded in agreement. 

“It’s hard to be a pioneer,” added Chen, “but also an opportunity.” 

On top of trying to validate Chinese hockey in the U.S., Chen, Shi and Ye must justify their move to America among their countrymen back home. In leaving China to pursue their goals elsewhere, it is expected that they will return home with something to show for it. 

“There’s a lot of pressure because everyone’s watching, and you have to continue to improve, otherwise people will question your decision to leave,” explained Ye. “If you don’t, they’ll say, ‘Oh, you went to America but you didn’t get better. What happened?’ It’s important to meet expectations back home.”

As pioneers in their sport, Chen, Shi and Ye don’t have a road map to follow or a role model to take after. Their motivation, unlike so many young athletes, is not to become like someone before them but to become like no one before them. It is not to fulfill a vision but to create one. 

‘A lonely process’

“There isn’t really anyone to look up to [among Chinese hockey players], so you have to make your own way,” said Chen. “You’re trying to become the person that one day the later generation will look up to. That’s the inspiration for me to work harder.” 

In some ways, Chen has already become that figure for Shi and He. The senior plays on South Kent’s top hockey team — the U-18 Tier-1 Midget squad — and looks poised to land a college scholarship either this year or next. For Shi and He, Chen represents their high school aspirations.  

“When I was 15 and 16, I was in their shoes,” Chen said. “It can be a lonely process, but I hope I can pass on some advice. I’d love for them to look up to me.”

Beyond that, their hockey goals differ. Shi hopes to play in college. Ye would like to play professionally in Europe. Chen’s focus on the present keeps him from gazing too far into the future. But their dreams all intersect in the same place: Beijing 2022. 

As Chen, Shi and Ye push further and further into the unknown, they draw closer and closer toward home.