Today is Under Construction: Sumo Sunday

I have a list of things I must do before leaving Japan. The list changes in length all the time as I learn about new things and continue to complete them, but Sumo has been on there from the beginning as one of the quintessential Japanese experiences that can't be missed. I was really excited to go and the day did not disappoint. The crew on this fine Sunday consisted of Glen, Steff, Matt, Beth, Jen, Lisa and Drew. We arrived at the stadium pretty early, and were thrilled to have the place to ourselves for the first few hours. Our tickets were in the nosebleeds but we managed to sit pretty close to the action for most of the day until the major players entered the stadium around 3:00.

The seating arrangements at Sumo matches are rather perplexing, as the most expensive seats are cushions on the floor at the base of the raised clay ring which enormous men repeatedly tumble out of onto the guests in the VIP section. We were pleased with our decision to set up camp along the rail of the first tier rather than ringside shortly after seeing this:

After an hour or two we decided to take a long lunch and return in time for the opening ceremony at 2:30. We wandered into a restaurant very near the stadium that featured its very own ring in the center of the room. The ring had slippers nearby so that patrons could enter the ring and take some photos with friends, as long as they were not women, that is. Beth and I found out the hard way that the Shintoists are the spiritually enlightened version of the neighborhood pack of adolescent boys complete with 'no chicks allowed' signs on their clubhouse. The restaurant staff were quick to give us the all-too-familiar 'X' sign with the arms that the Japanese use to express the word no to foreigners. It's clear enough, although only slightly less patronizing than being smacked on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

So, the ladies had to retreat back to the table while our Y chromosome friends had all the fun. We stealthily exacted our revenge by drinking their beers while they were gone. My friend Drew recruited an old man from an adjacent table to teach him all about thigh slapping. They made a cute pair.

Jen, Beth and I managed to get a picture with a few baby sumo outside on our way back from lunch. We made it back to the venue in time to see the ceremony of champions were the afternoons most famous wrestlers parade in a circle wearing brightly colored aprons, adorned with jewels and said to be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The second half of the afternoon felt like an entirely different experience. The stadium was packed and the excitement level grew exponentially with each match. Also, the 6 beers we each had during our long lunch didn't take away from the experience at all. Stripping the sport of its rich cultural history for a moment, watching fat guys throw each other around is far more entertaining with a buzz.