Sumo
Having first seen sumo wrestling last August (they televise the tournaments daily on NHK), we've been big (no pun intended) fans. Despite knowing next to nothing of the rules, it hasn't stopped us watching the last hour of competition daily at 5pm. It's such an event - these massive wrestlers, each topping 150kg, trying to psych the other out by slapping their bellies, throwing salt and stomping around. If nothing else, its great theatre!
Our favourite wrestler is the yokuzuna Takanohana. He made an amazing comeback from a career-threatening knee injury in August (runner up to Musashimaru), sat out November's tourney, and hasn't been his usual dominating self in this tournament.
The young buck knocking at the door is 22 year old Mongolian Asashoryu, who is ranked ozeki. He won the last tournament, as Takanohana and Musashimaru nursed injuries. If he wins this tournament, he is likely to be promoted to yokozuna, possibly to replace Takanohana, who is expected to retire.
We had a scare last week, when Takanohana withdrew from the tournament with a shoulder injury - it wouldn't be the same if he wasn't there - but he became the first yokozuna in 50 years to return to the same tournament after an injury!
On Sunday, we went to Tokyo's kokugikan, home of sumo in Japan. The top-flight professional wrestlers start at 4pm, but arriving early lets you see everything that goes on. At Ryogoku station, we saw some minor league wrestlers, dressed in cotton kimonos with their belts in a small bag, and showing proper disdain for the ordinary punters.
Colourful banners in the street announce the names of the wrestlers, and a beautifully written board shows the roster - a smaller framed copy sets you back upwards of Y20,000 ($300). Even the ticket attendants are living breathing sumo - former wrestlers adding to the amateur feel of a professional, multi-million dollar industry.
Walking in the front gates, the first thing you see is the Emperor's Cup. It's as big as the Ashes are small (had to explain that to the Americans in the group!).
The lower level is laid out so that you sit picnic-style in groups of four, eating while watching the wrestling. Tickets near the front rows can reach Y100,000 ($1500) for a day. We took advantage of the early hour to experience the ring-side seats. Even though the wrestlers were minor level, it was an amazing experience to be so close to the ring.
The ring itself is made of clay, packed so solid it resembles concrete, raised 4 foot of the ground. Getting thrown out of the ring would definitely hurt, not only the wrestler, but also any judge or spectator unlucky enough to be sitting so close. Ringside spectators, judging by television, appear to be mostly elderly Japanese - maybe it's an act of bravado for them?
One judge sits at each side, in addition to the main referee, and each has an attendant whose only role is to drape a blanket over their knees should they have to get up to discuss a close call. We saw one guy knock his head on the way down, and another do his AC - just like football, sumo can be unforgiving.
Wrestlers lose if they step outside the ring, or if they touch the ground with any body part other than their feet.
By the time the professionals hit the stage, we were back up in the top deck, with our birds-eye view. The wrestlers are introduced to the audience in groups, dressed in their elaborate ceremonial skirts. As yokozuna, Takanohana appears separately from the other wrestlers. He's by far the most popular wrestler, a native Japanese, as the crowd reaction proved!
Asashoryu won his bout convincingly. Takanohana was wrestling a maegishira, 3 ranks lower. It must certainly be daunting to face such a legend, especially given that 99% of the audience are barracking for the other guy. But Aminishiki came out strongly, grabbing Takanohana by his arm, swinging him around and pushing him unceremoniously out of the ring before anyone, Takanohana included, knew what had happened. As it happened, this would be his last ever bout - and we were there to see it!
The cushions got tossed in the ring, and the day was over. As my students would say, "I will remember this memory."
