Sumo, as I see it

This post is not for the squeamish. Lot's of man breasts.


Well, forget about fully understanding all the nuances about sumo, might as well try to figure out cricket. The sum of my knowledge could be written on a postage stamp with a grease pencil. The tournaments or Bashos of which there are around ten a year, center around the wrestlers attempting to pin or most often push or throw their opponents out of a clay circle. And that is total of my absolute knowledge. The remainder of my post is based on observation and conjecture.

The sport is sacred to the Japanese, as only they can elevate sport (and war in past days), to a religious art form. Traditional Japanese cultural identity is reflected in the traditions of the match and in the wrestlers, themselves. Sumo salaries are fairly large, especially to a mongolian, who normally works on the side as a wrestler. Sumo though, is not so much a sport as a way of life, and that creates some problems for those not truly acclimated to Japanese culture. As a side game, the higher level matches are interrupted regularly by a parade of kimono wearing gentlemen carrying signs which advertise the various stakes on each participant. Took me a little while and a friendly Canadian to figure out what that was all about.

Mongolians seem to like the sport, because wrestling is big here and they can dominate the Japanese, if only because they tend to be larger. The Mongols are definetly the bad boys of the sumo world; Asashoryu, winner of 21 tournament titles, holds the top rank of megashira, and is considered to be in the top five of all time, is just returning from serving out a two basho suspension for not acting in a manner suitable for a sumo. He was busted playing soccor in a charity tournament while recuperating from an injury. Sumo’s do misbehave on occasion, but almost never at the level, so often seen in American sports. Mongolians are just to fun loving for me to believe they fully embrace the more gentlemanly aspects of sumo.

The ring is a shrine in itself with a large pagoda roof rising above the clay circle which makes up the allowed wrestling area. There was a huge gnashing of teeth during a basho this summer when a women protester attempted to enter the sacred ring, from which women are absolutely prohibited, less they profane it. As the news reports put it at the time, “there were no shortage of volunteers in keeping the woman away from the ring” The Japanese papers as translated here; referred to her as the "crazy woman"

Sumo is very fast moving when it is happening, lots of time and posturing (in a humble fashion) between matches. Leaving the bulging buttocks out of the equation, I enjoy watching these behemoths finally lunge at each other from the set stance. I always amused by the little nuances of leaving the set position to toss some salt on the ground and stamp about in an intimidating manner. They put Wade Boggs and Nomar Garciappara to shame with their little habits of scratching and patting the gut and other areas, before making the big push. Glad they wear those big belts, the amount of flesh on display doesn’t need any enhancement. The wrestling in itself is rather short lived and usually ends in a pushing match, although the better wrestlers have some pretty good throw moves. I never want to sit ringside though. Imagine having one of those monsters fall off the slightly elevated ring into your lap. Shaq’s elbow would be one thing, but an extremely large, presumably sweaty, nearly naked fat man??
With no baseball to watch, and even less football, I’m enjoying the whole sumo experience. I most enjoy the elegance and ritual to the matches. Everything seems to be set, right up until these huge guys push up and out towards each other. I would think; John Madden would be an awesome commentator for sumo. His comments on the line of scrimmage, seem to mirror what I see, when the matches are in their final stages. Beyond the gambling, there is no bs, no public comments, just two guys pushing. A clean sport to me.

Apparently, there are no clay sumo rings here in Mongolia, but Erdene promises to take me to one of many wrestling matches they have at the palace next door to our place. Mongolians groove on the whole wrestling thing, the pmpkn and I even saw sumo classes for nine-year old boys on the tube one morning.

to the right are the little symbols which announce the amount being bet on each contestant. Sort of like a seventh inning stretch.