Hey, long time no blog, busy, blah blah blah, anyway: fat men in ridiculous costumes. Not only is it an apt summary of Harry's Sophomore through Senior years of college, it's also how we spent an afternoon last March. Osaka hosts the annual Grand Sumo Tournament at the prefectural gymnasium right near our house, and there was nothing that could keep us away this year! The only thing that kept us from going last year was that the tournament was suspended due to some technical bylaws nonsense involving organized crime and match rigging.
As if the inherent drama of all this wasn't enough.
Sumo has been much discussed in various professionally-written accounts of Japan, which would render useless any cursory effort on our part to encapsulate this centuries-old, highly ritualized cultural practice. Still, that hasn't stopped us yet, has it? Sumo is a sport where half-naked fat guys slam into each other (stop me if I get too technical here).
Sometimes there's singing.
Sumo is the preferred spectator sport of old guys, many of whom keep up with the latest sumo matches on their car TVs whilst driving (car TVs: one of those gadgets they have here that we really wish they didn't). The old guys were there in force that Tuesday, filling the stadium to partake in Japan's twin recreational jewels of sumo and drinking. Like most of Japan's cultural traditions, there is much, much drinking involved; the spectators drink, the wrestlers receive a drink of sake before the match, and we can only guess what the ref is on. I mean, look at him.
Sumo may seem strange and exotic to our Western eyes and ears (and, unfortunately, noses), but it has a great deal in common with many of the sports we enjoy in America. For instance, did I mention the drinking? Also, much like baseball and football, about 90% of a sumo tournament is spent standing around and performing various meaningless rituals.
Here, the wrestlers perform a ceremonial "Wave."
The tournament's daily schedule began at 8 a.m., when pre-tournament rituals to sanctify the arena ran until the first matches at noon. When the first group of wrestlers enter the ring, they perform a group ritual to honor one another and their respective houses. Then there is a ritual word from their sponsors.
And here we see a sumo wrestler still in its pupal state.
Then, at last, time for some action! Having stretched, prayed, saluted their trainers, salted the ring to purify it, drank some water, had some snacks, and taken a nap, the sumo wrestlers are prepared for this, the most important match of the year. The wrestlers square off in the ring, ready to collide in brutal combat like the powerful titans they are. They slam the earth menacingly, preparing to begin their grapple...
...And then retreat to their corners for a drink break and some more salt.
According to the English pamphlet helpfully provided to us at the door, this can happen as many times as the wrestlers choose, usually around three or four false starts before a match begins. Though, it adds, matches of greater import demand much more gravitas, delivered in this case by even more salt, drinking, high-fives, etc. You can see where the audience finds time to get its drinking in.
Finally, the match begins, this time for sure, no backsies. They charge at one another like enraged beasts, slamming together thunderously, each hoping to best the other in a contest of pure muscle and will and--
Aaaaand it's over. After all the buildup, the match goes on for between 3 and 10 seconds. Just in time for another round of rituals!
We think this guy might have been in the wrong room. Involuntary sumo, perhaps?
Well, the minutes blurred into hours, getting significantly blurrier with each passing hour (if you'll recall the earlier mentions of drinking?). So, enjoy this documentation of the Agony of Defeat, the Thrill of Victory, and the horror of Sumo-on-Sumo Violence.
And the crowd goes wild!
