When asked at a post-tournament news conference on Monday if January’s title win felt different in any way from his eight previous victories, yokozuna Terunofuji replied, “A championship is a championship, so I’m just happy.”
After three straight missed tournaments, joy at returning to the mountaintop is an understandable emotion for the veteran grand champion, particularly when his poor physical condition had left the ability to participate in January’s meet in doubt right up to the last moment.
But while Terunofuji’s latest triumph may indeed not have been his best, or even among his most memorable, it has put the Isegahama stable man on the cusp of reaching rarified air.
Sumo, as it's practiced inside the ring, has existed in roughly the same easily recognizable form for almost two millennia, but constant changes in structure and organization have been a feature of Japan’s national sport throughout history.
One of those changes, made over half a century ago, will impact how Terunofuji is viewed by future generations of sumo fans.
In 1958, a July meet in Nagoya was added to the schedule, starting the six-tournament-a-year system that continues to the present day.
Out of the thousands of young men to have joined the sport following that change, just 21 have reached the rank of yokozuna.
Less than one-third of that exalted assemblage managed double-digit title wins before retiring.
Terunofuji’s most-recent victory therefore, puts him ahead — in terms of silverware won — of all but eight wrestlers to have made their debut in the past 65 years.
Hakuho, Chiyonofuji, Asashoryu, Kitanoumi, Takanohana, Wajima, Musashimaru and Akebono — it’s a list that contains some of the greatest and most notable names in sumo history.
Should Terunofuji lift the Emperor’s Cup for a 10th time and join that select group, it’ll almost certainly spark a discussion over whether or not he should be referred to as a dai-yokozuna.
Although not a formal title, dai-yokozuna (great grand champion) is a commonly used designator in Japan’s national sport to differentiate truly great yokozuna — whose impact echoes down through history — from the merely elite.
As with anything lacking codification, there is a large amount of subjectivity as to what kind of career warrants the use of the term dai-yokozuna.
In some cases, it’s due to achievements that exceeded the norm by so wide a margin as to make dissension laughable.
Futabayama’s 69-bout win streak that saw him move from undecorated sekiwake in January 1936 to five-time champion yokozuna by January 1939 is the obvious example. Three years without losing a single fight is a record that may never be broken.
Taiho winning almost 84% of his bouts in the top division over an 11-year stretch, while claiming 32 Emperor’s Cups, also comes to mind. Even with a huge increase in the number of yearly tournaments, almost tripling the previous record total of 12 (held by Futabayama) made Taiho a star in the 1960s.
Terunofuji, doesn’t have numbers that compare with those giants of the sport, nor do his successes in the sumo ring come close to matching the silverware-laden careers of Mongolian predecessors Asashoryu and Hakuho, but the 32-year-old does have factors in his favor.
One is time.
A major consideration when it comes to bestowing the label of dai-yokozuna is imperial era.
While Japan favors the Gregorian calendar for everyday activities, the use of imperial year counting still remains widespread.
Just as western society tends to group cultural trends, music, and fashion by decade — often with unique monikers such as the swinging sixties or roaring twenties — so too is nostalgia in Japan frequently tied to imperial era.
Dai-yokozuna similarly are often associated with the era in which they were most prominent.
Futabayama, Taiho, Kitanoumi and Chiyonofuji are names that frequently occur in discussions of the Showa Era’s (1926-1989) greatest wrestlers, while Takanohana and Hakuho come up most often when talking about Heisei Era (1989-2019) dai-yokozuna.
Asashoryu’s troubled history at sumo’s top rank and ignominious exit from the sport remain fresh in the minds of many fans and commentators, often resulting in exclusion from consideration — despite having more titles than all but three men. Time though is a great healer in sporting nostalgia, and Asashoryu’s legacy will undoubtedly be viewed more favorably in decades to come.
For Terunofuji, the fact that a new imperial reign began in the middle of his historic comeback from sumo’s lowest reaches, means he is without question the greatest wrestler of the Reiwa Era (2019-present).
Eight of the yokozuna’s nine championships have come since the current emperor ascended the throne. Terunofuji is also the Reiwa Era’s sole yokozuna promotee to date.
In Monday’s news conference, Terunofuji restated his ambition to reach double-digit title wins. Should he do so, that benchmark, and the leading role he has played (albeit intermittently) in the Reiwa Era could well see the Ulaanbaatar native begin to be described as a dai-yokozuna.
Counting against the powerful grand champion is the fact that he has reached the final day just seven times (in 15 tournaments) since being promoted to sumo’s highest rank.
The comeback story, which has added two encore performances in the past year, is an integral part of Terunofuji’s legacy, but may also have prevented him from putting together the kind of dominant run needed to be considered a dai-yokozuna.
A 10th Emperor’s Cup though would put a very different complexion on things and certainly spark argument. Terunofuji’s win in Japan puts him on the cusp of greatness and sets up the possibility of a fascinating debate later in the year.
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