“What am I going to do for the next two months?” is a lament commonly heard from newer fans at the end of each grand sumo tournament.
Such bemoaning of what is perceived as an extended sumo-free period always comes across as incongruous to veteran watchers, and those actually involved in the sport.
The reality is that, in contrast to virtually all European or North American originated games, there is no period of the sumo calendar that could reasonably be described as an offseason.
While the yearly schedule of Japan’s national sport, much like its famously grueling training sessions, may combine bursts of high energy with lulls in the action, even sumo’s between-tournament periods are jam-packed with activity.
Indeed, because of regional tours, charity tournaments and retirement ceremonies, ticketed events with bouts take place 12 months a year.
Rather than the regular six-week gaps with no sumo between official tournaments that neophytes see, the reality is actually a relentless, unending, physically and mentally demanding grind, that is sorely in need of a true offseason break.
Such a change, of course, is highly unlikely to happen.
For one thing, the trajectory of modern sport is in the opposite direction.
Ever-more crowded schedules designed to maximize profits, and take advantage of the 24/7 availability of online audiences, have been squeezing traditional breaks from both ends across the sporting world.
In European soccer, the concept of the offseason is almost extinct. English Premier League teams, for example, play from late August right up to the end of May with the FA Cup final in June, and summer tours or preseason friendlies are already well underway in July.
Similarly in North America, the NFL has turned what is ostensibly a five-month-long winter sport into a year-round, must-see spectacle. The world’s most profitable league has made activities as prosaic as selecting college players, physical health checks and training sessions into appointment viewing.
At least in the case of the latter sport, athletes aren’t required to participate in many of those offseason activities.
The NFL’s ability to extend its sport’s reach without sacrificing the health of its participants is something sumo would be wise to look into — particularly given the events of the past few years.
Tragedy in the ring and the death of a young wrestler named Hibikiryu has ushered in a change in attitude surrounding ringside medical assistance and better athlete care in Japan’s national sport.
But while improvements have been made in recent years, much work remains to be done.
For both the physical and mental health of rikishi, a month free of training and other obligations during Japan’s oppressive rainy season would be a godsend.
June is the only even-numbered month normally without a regional tour or Ryogoku Kokugikan-hosted one-day tournament, making it the ideal time for such a break from a logistical point of view.
A mid-summer pause would allow wrestlers to heal up ahead of the two most arduous and punishing months on the schedule.
For decades, the July basho has been notorious for its searingly hot and humid conditions. A move to a new venue — the currently under-construction Aichi International Arena — in 2025 should alleviate some of the difficulty during tournament bouts, but rikishi will still be training outdoors and living in tougher conditions while in Nagoya.
Hot on the heels (figuratively and literally) of the July meet comes sumo’s most draining regional tour. The summer jungyō is a monthlong trudge through central and northern Japan featuring almost daily long, cramped bus rides — and few opportunities for rikishi to catch their breath — before reaching a conclusion just ahead of the September meet.
From an athlete's health and welfare point of view, the need for a mid-summer break seems obvious, with June being the most logical candidate for a pause in activity, but sumo’s inherent nature makes even the possibility of such a move being discussed unlikely.
One of the main challenges is the fact that sumo isn’t considered a true sport, but rather a lifestyle. Unlike in soccer, American football or rugby, training in sumo isn’t purely a means to an end, but instead the continuation of traditional practices, and a goal in and of itself.
The idea of rikishi skipping daily training even when injured is already anathema to many in sumo. Extending such breaks to include physically healthy wrestlers would simply be inconceivable to many of the sport’s power brokers.
It’s a point of contention that is unlikely to go away, however. If anything, public understanding of the sumo lifestyle and a subsequent demand for better conditions is only rising.
In a sense, the battle to create better health and welfare for young wrestlers is just part of a larger struggle: That of a 2,000-year-old sport, whose traditions and customs have remained virtually unchanged for centuries, trying to find its place in a rapidly changing modern world.
Change, of course, is inevitable. It’s really only the pace that is unpredictable. Hopefully there will soon come a time when newer fans lamenting about “no sumo for a month” are actually right.
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