Go with the Flow

by Cho Hunhyun

  The Chinese Go now stands firm on its own feet without any need for external support. It has become the visible big hand in international Go, hosting major large-scale international championships, while internally China’s professional league continues to flourish with its own momentum. The rise of the Chinese Go was intimidating to Korean Go but I felt it was a necessary growing pain. Korean professional Go players would have had to worry about their livelihood without the opportunities offered in the growing Go market in China.

  The era of Chinese dominance will continue for the time being. But I also believe that Korea and Japan will not just sit back and watch important opportunities pass by. Korea and Japan will work hard to turn the current crisis into an opportunity. Who knows? We may be surprised by the debut of a fresh face- a genius who shifts the paradigm of the existing landscape of Go. And this genius may come from other countries like the U.S., Russia, the EU, or North Korea.

  Should one be intimidated by or feel envious of the growth of one’s rivals? No. Acknowledge and accept their success. Learn from their experience and build one’s own stepping stone to become more competitive. Bigger stages and huge opportunities will come along the way.

  Master’s Legacy 1972

  I returned to Korea after studying Go in Japan for 9 years. I was waiting to be enlisted to do the mandatory military service. One day, a reporter who was also a close friend of mine, came up to me cautiously.

  “Look, I just got the news that Master Segoe passed away…”

  What? What did he say? I could not believe it. It had only been 4 months since I left Japan. Master Segoe was over 80 years old, so he was frail, but not fragile.

  “How… How did he pass away?”

  “Don’t be surprised, Hunhyun. Master Segoe, he killed himself.”

  I came over all faint and dizzy. My legs folded under me.

  Next day, every major newspaper in Korea covered the story of Master Segoe’s suicide. Master Segoe chose to end his life by strangling himself with his two hands. His body was neat and clean, and two suicide notes were found next to the body; one for his daughter-in-law, Mama zzang, and another one for his friends. Master Segoe wrote to his daughter-in-law that he decided to take his own life because he could not stand being the old man that needed to be looked after constantly. In the other letter, Master Segoe asked his friends and colleagues to bring Kunken back to Japan, and to give him all the necessary support to become a Master of Go. Master Segoe called me Kunken, by my Japanese name.

  I was not allowed to leave the country prior to completing my military service. So I asked the people from the Korean Go community who were going to Japan to pay their respects to the deceased to pass my letter of condolence to Mama zzang. There was nothing else I could do. A few weeks later, I went to the army.

  The training in the boot camp was arduous. It helped me to endure the shock and the grief of Master Segoe’s death. In fact, it had not hit me yet. I could picture him greeting me in his kimono, sitting on the toenmaru like a painting if I paid him a visit to his old house in Japan. Two months later, I received a letter from Mama zzang when I was stationed at the Seongnam airfield.

  “Dear Kunken, Benkei passed away a few days ago. He was very depressed since you left to Korea and he stopped eating at all after father passed away. He seemed to have lost the reason to live as two of his masters he loved so much left him one by one. Without you, father and Benkei, I find it unbearable to be the only one left in this empty house…….”

  I collapsed. It suddenly hit me that Master Segoe and Benkei were gone. Tears poured down my face. Benkei was a black Akita Master Segoe got me when I was 16 to keep me company. Benkei was a small 3-months-old puppy when he came to our house but he grew quickly into a full-size dog. Every day, I started my routine by cleaning up the mess Benkei had made in the yard and walking him around the neighborhood. Benkei was very loyal to me that he followed me everywhere and barked at any stranger who came near me to protect me. An Akita lives up to a decade or longer on average so I could not believe Benkei was already gone. Perhaps he was too sad from losing his two masters.

  The news of Benkei’s death reminded me of Master Segoe’s suicide. It was only then that I began to realize what Master Segoe felt when he had lost me. And the sense of loss had thrown him into deep mourning. Master Segoe was terribly shaken when I was forced to return to Korea to do my mandatory military service. I had never seen him look so confused. He wrote to the Korea Baduk Association and the Military Manpower Administration in Korea to complain about the draft. He pulled every string he could in the Korean political community for help. He tried everything he could. But to his despair, nothing worked.

  In the morning when I said my farewell to my Master, I noticed the sadly vacant expression in his eyes. His eyes seemed to be saying that there was nothing to hope for any more. The look of relinquishment. That was the last look of my Master that I remember.

  Master Segoe chose to strangle himself to death with his two hands. Most who attempt to end their own lives in this way are likely to let go before they suffocate to death because it is too painful. But nothing could stop Master Segoe. That was the kind of man he was. Once he made up his mind about something, he saw it through.

  I was told that Master Segoe lived in complete seclusion after I left. He never went out the house. He was so devastated that he could hardly eat or talk. He was heard murmuring to himself once.

  “It must take at least five years for Kunken to come back …….”

  Five years was too long for Master Segoe. He was not sure he could wait that long. At a time when he was heartbroken, his close friend, Yasunari Kawabata, left him. Yasunari, who was a Nobel literature laureate, suddenly committed suicide by putting a gas tube in his mouth. His death could have been the trigger for my master’s suicide. Master Segoe left, perhaps to accompany his friend.

  I did not realize how much Master Segoe loved me until I heard the tragic news of his suicide. I was a student who had no idea how much I was loved by my teacher. Master Segoe never articulated his love for me. It was all embedded in him. And I did not have the maturity to realize the power of his love that was kept inside him all those years.

  I am not in the position to judge Master Segoe’s decision to commit suicide. What I intend to do is to remember what he left for me. I shall inherit his love for Go and his disciplined and deep mind.

  Master Segoe devoted his entire life to the game of Go. His country, his people, his honor, his personal interests were all second to Go. It was his idea to bring Go Seigen from China and train him to become the kind of player who would surprise the Japanese Go community with an exciting disbelief. It was also Master Segoe who made the arrangement for me to study under him and play professional Go on the world stage. Master Segoe would have also done very well for him in the academia or the arts. I was told that he was intelligent as a boy and was a high-achiever. Master Segoe was also an extraordinary amateur painter and calligrapher. His exquisite artwork became well-known and traded at high value in Japan.

  Master Segoe played Go well enough to study in Honinbo House, which was one of the four major Go houses in Japan. But he chose to join the Hohenscha1 , which was a strong rival of the Honinbo House back then because he thought it was important to keep the rivalry going between Honinbo and Hohenscha to ensure that the overall level of Go in Japan remain competitive. In 1908, Master Segoe joined Hohenscha in.

  1) A Go house that served as a bridge between modern and contemporary of Japanese Go. It vied with other prominent Go houses for the dominant figure in the community in early 20th century. Hohen (方円) means a square land and a round sky, i.e. a universe. Go is often considered as a universe because of its round stone and square board.

  Master Segoe’s game record was amazing. In just a few months, he had a total of 39 rounds of games with 30 wins, 6 defeats, and three incomplete. In 1910, he played with Nohsawa 4P, who was frequently called by his nickname, the ghost-like general, beca
use he was notorious for being vituperative to other players. “Your game style is so tacky that I’m demotivated to play,” spat out Nohsawa. Master Segoe felt so insulted and mortified that he had to excuse him to the restroom to shed a few tears. He collected himself together and returned to the game, bulldogging it through and beating Nohsawa.

  Master Segoe played against Master Honinbo Shusai, the last successor of the hereditary title, Honinbo, during which two handicaps were given. That game became a legend. In the past, when the compensation rule did not exist, handicaps were given to begin with an even game and keep the game even. Master Segoe won 11 rounds in a row when he played against the famous Shusai, and had his handicap adjusted two notches up. The fact that his handicap was adjusted twice meant there was a wide gap in their skill levels. Master Segoe earned 3P from this match, but Nihon Ki-in issued a new rule that readjusting back the game record of every player. This decision was faced with fierce resistance from many players who decided to withdraw from the Japan Go Association, except for Master Segoe. Master Segoe accepted the decision of the Japan Go Association believing it was more important to have a united Go community. To him, the right-or-wrong debate was not worthy of risking the solidarity of the Go community.

  Since then, Master Segoe focused solely on training young players. Master Segoe’s first student was Utaro Hashimoto who was respected for being gifted in Go and had a great personality that was no less than that of his teacher, Master Segoe. Hashimoto formerly belonged to the Kansai office of Nihon Ki-in but he was not happy with how the Association was wielding authoritarian influence over its members. Utaro decided to co-found Kansai Ki-in with other professional players from the Kansai office who felt the same way. Since its foundation, Kansai Ki-in has functioned as one of the two major associations that led the Japanese Go community. Kansai Ki-in’s clout in the Go community abated when Hashimoto passed away, but even today it is still the cradle of talented players like Satoshi Yuki, winner of the Judan Title Match and the Tengen Title Match. Daisuke Murakawa who was the champion of the 2013 Agon Cup was also trained at Kansai Ki-in.

  Go Seigen became Master Segoe’s second student. Go Seigen was admired for his liberal mind and outstanding leadership that was deemed ahead of his time. Master Segoe went out of his way to bring the young Go Seigen to Japan. Master Segoe and Go Seigen exchanged more than 50 letters over the two years that took to make the arrangement to bring Go Seigen to Japan. Master Segoe reached out to Inukai Tsuyoshi, the then Prime Minister of Japan, who was also known as an avid Go player, to help him invite the young Go Seigen to Japan.

  “What are you going to do if the boy later extorts the Meijin Championship Title from Japanese players?” The Prime Minister asked.

  “That is exactly what he has to do,” replied Master Segoe.

  The young Go Seigen developed into a competitive player by leaps and bounds under Master Segoe and rose above every professional player in Japan. The 19-year-old Go Seigen was the first to dared to challenge Master Honinbo Shusai with a new opening. Another well-known episode involves Go Seigen playing the ‘mirror game’ with Minoru Kitani, where he copied his counterpart’s every move during the game. The story behind devising the ‘mirror game’ was that Go Seigen found Kitani nearly impossible to defeat. In the ‘mirror game,’ Go Seigen placed his stone symmetrical to the position where Kitani placed his. Go Seigen was not scared of being called a coward for mirroring Kitani. He just wanted to find out how the game would unfold. The Go Seigen vs Kitani game continued into the 62nd move. Go Seigen seemed to turn the table around at one point but he slipped, letting Kitani win the game by three points.

  The ‘mirror game’ brought Go Seigen and Kitani closer like brothers. Together, they invented the innovative new opening pattern called ‘Shinfuseki,’ which was published as a book entitled, “The Revolutionary Opening Strategy for Go,” which completely transformed the way Go was played in Japan. Kitani was 25 and Go Seigen was only 20 at the time. Go Seigen later defeated Kitani in the spectacular series of Jubango matches and every one of his contemporaries. Master Segoe retired when Go Seigen became the undisputed number one player in the country. He gave his own house to Go Seigen while he himself rented a small room and moved out. Master Segoe stopped accepting students until we met 20 years later.

  Master Segoe’s legacy lives on through the history of the Japanese Go. The Chinese-borne Go Seigen endured through all disadvantages imposed on him because of his nationality. But he was the one who inherited Master Segoe’s spiritual heritage and succeeded in becoming the first ranking player in Japan. Today, Go Seigen is one of the players most respected by the Japanese public as evident in his nickname, ‘Go Saint.’ Go Seigen paid it forward; he taught and trained Rin Kaiho from Taiwan to become the best of the best in Japan. Go Seigen took in Rui Naiwei, who was expelled from the Chinese Weiqi Association, and provided the necessary protection. In 2000, when Rui defeated me and became the first woman in Korea and the world to earn the title of Guksu, Go Seigen was heard saying, “I owe it to Mr. Cho Hunhyun.”

  As for me, I contemplated on how to continue the legacy of Master Segoe. I met Changho in 1984. I believed it was the opportunity for me to redirect what I have been graciously given to someone as talented as Changho. I knew it was too early for me to accept a student but I did not want to miss the opportunity. I accepted Changho with no strings attached; there was no exchange of a written agreement, not to mention a single penny of tuition fee. Changho was already the perfect candidate when he came to me; he was talented and had the right mindset and the attitude to become successful. I thought I was lucky to have him as my student. Little did I know that the 10-year-old Changho would become a full-sized tiger at 15 and covet my place. Meeting Changho was experiencing both heaven and hell.

  If I had only waited for a few more years before taking in Changho, and if Changho’s learning curve had only been more gradual, we could have avoided being tangled in an awkward and complicated rivalry and kept our teacher-student relationship simple and easy. Our mentor-mentee relationship posed a challenge we both had to overcome. We did endure and we did come out on the other end of the tunnel safe and relieved. And today, I am proud that Changho carries on, and will continue to carry on, the legacy of Master Segoe, Utaro Hashimoto, Go Seigen, Rin Kaiho, Rui Naiwei, and mine. In this pedigree of Go masters, Changho is the one with the singular radiance. Changho is my legacy.

  But my work is not done yet. The legacy of Master Segoe is to keep giving. Now that I am preparing to retire, I spend more time thinking of leaving a legacy. I do not know what it is going to be. I could train another gifted young mind, or I could start a project that could in some way contribute to the Korean Go community. Whatever it may be, I do hope it leaves a lasting footprint and be remembered as a good legacy. I hope I remain strong enough to do my best to leave a legacy. I also hope lady luck on my side.

  Master’s Legacy 1977

  One autumn day in 1977, the phone rang. It was Master Shuko.

  “Kunken, I’m at the Gimpo Airport. Come and get me quickly.”

  It was a pleasant surprise. Master Shuko came without any notice. I did not know what to say but I could feel a smile spreading across my face. It was so typical of Master Shuko!

  I found Master Shuko waving his hand and shouting my name “KunKen” as I was arriving at the airport. He looked half-sober, half-drunk. Master Shuko was wearing a sloppy shirt and pants. He came without any luggage except for a bottle of Santori beer that was sticking out of his back pocket. He was so delighted to see me that he gave me a quick hard squeeze.

  “Master Shuko! How did you get here?”

  “I came to see you, of course.”

  Master Shuko got on the first flight on impulse. He was drinking until dawn and suddenly realized he missed me very much.

  “Kunken, my boy! You will get into trouble with me if you have been lazy playing Go!”

  Master Shuko and I went straight to check-in to a hotel near the Che
onggye creek and we did not leave our room for three days. We spent most of the time playing Go and going over game records, occasionally being interrupted by guests from the Korean Go community who came to say hello to Master Shuko. We also played a few quick games and Master Shuko made me rub his stiff shoulders and arms every time I lost. Master Shuko took the time to look at every game record I had accumulated.

  Master Shuko did not stop drinking for three whole days. He also did not stop analyzing and evaluating my game records even when he was as drunk as a fish. He did not get tired at all whereas I was exhausted from playing and analyzing for three days straight and I only had mineral water to drink. I was wondering how such a small man could be so strong.

  “I was going to scold you if your skills had deteriorated. But I am relieved that you still play well. Now I can go home.”

  If Master Segoe was the head coach, Master Shuko was the technical skills coach. I learned to play Go from Master Segoe but I was also a member of the Fujisawa study group too. I was a 12-year-old Go prodigy at the Japan Go Association when I met Master Shuko for the first time. We ran into each other and played a round of game. Master Shuko invited me to come to his study group after the game. Ever since that day, Master Shuko became my second mentor. Master Shuko was always surrounded by a lot of people. Rin Kaiho, Koichi Kobayashi, Cho Chikun and I went to his study group to play Go whenever we could. The study group was always on the move because Master Shuko never had enough to afford a permanent place. But that did not matter to us. When it was time to move, we carried the game boards and the office furniture ourselves to the new place. We never got tired of moving.