Even as offseasons across the sporting world are squeezed by exhibition games, expanded schedules and an increasing number of promotional events, sumo still stands apart in terms of the time commitment required of its participants.
While the action in any given sumo bout lasts mere seconds, the length and intensity of the training in Japan’s national sport far surpasses that of pretty much every other athletic endeavor.
In addition to countless training fights and hours upon hours spent repeating the same fundamental drills for hundreds of repetitions each morning, sumo wrestlers — particularly in the lower divisions — have an endless series of tasks, chores and obligations that eat into their time.
Throw in regional tours, retirement ceremonies and other special events, and there is little to no free space in the calendar for those involved in sumo.
The month of June is arguably as close as the sport gets to an offseason. While most of the activities listed above still continue, the pace slows somewhat, and, with many of the main players in sumo away at training camps in far-flung rural locations, now is as good a time as any to answer some of the fan questions that crop up with regularity.
While it’s widely known that life changes dramatically for rikishi upon promotion to sumo’s second tier and that falling back to the lower ranks results in a loss of salary and privileges, many fans have asked whether or not demoted former sekitori also have to move back into their stables.
The first thing to bear in mind when considering such things is that many sumo “rules” would more correctly be described as traditions or customs. Not only that, but stables have a lot of autonomy when it comes to day-to-day life and internal regulations.
Those factors result in a lot of case-by-case and common sense decisions. A newly promoted sekitori who has only spent a basho or two in a private room in the stable is easily moved back into the common sleeping area, while a 15-year veteran with children and a mortgage would almost certainly have to retire and find an alternative source of income (if they are ineligible to become a sumo elder). For those in between those two extremes, it’s a call the stablemaster will make after considering the particular circumstances.
Another question that often arises is how wrestlers address each other in daily life.
It may come as a surprise to some, but the use of shikona (ring names) isn’t all that common in stables. First names and nicknames are heard far more often when someone is talking to, or about, another wrestler. Of course Japanese life is infused with the senpai-kōhai seniority system, which is in place from early childhood, and that adds a layer not seen in Western society. Even so a sumo stable sounds very similar to a football dressing room in many respects.
That leads to a common misconception: Because sumo tournaments, official events or TV variety show appearances constitute the vast majority of the content foreign fans are exposed to, there is a belief that wrestlers are in traditional clothing all the time.
While it’s certainly the case that a rule about clothing exists and yukata (light summer kimono) are worn to and from tournaments, the vast majority of a rikishi’s life is spent in T-shirts and shorts. Not only that, but given the limited options for sizes 4XL and above, much of the clothing seen in day-to-day sumo life in and around stables tends to be emblazoned with cute characters or cheesy slogans.
If you are in a supermarket, bank or fast-food restaurant in Tokyo’s Ryogoku district, you have a far greater chance of seeing a wrestler in an anime-inspired shirt than a kimono.
On the topic of misconceptions, none of the online Anglosphere conspiracy theories regarding the treatment of various individuals in sumo or their antecedent assumptions about how the Japan Sumo Association works have any basis in reality.
The “Game of Thrones”-style maneuvering that sometimes takes place around elections (or the ownership of elder stock) is almost always a self-contained and short-term situation.
Believing that there are grand designs put in place years ahead of time to advance various agendas or sideline certain actors is simply folly and displays a lack of understanding about how sumo actually works.
A question newer fans often ask is what is in the white envelopes given to winning wrestlers in top division bouts and why is the size of the stack always different.
Simply put, each envelope contains a portion of the prize money connected to one of the banners that were paraded around the ring prior to the bout.
For those sponsoring the banners, each one costs ¥70,000 ($445) with a minimum order of 15 per basho totaling ¥1,050,000. A total of ¥10,000 from each banner is taken to cover various fees and costs, while half of the remaining ¥60,000 goes into an account to cover the wrestler’s income tax etc. The remaining ¥30,000 is inside each envelope.
Sumo’s growing popularity abroad has also led to an increase in inquiries from fans about how easy it is to meet or interview wrestlers.
The surprising answer there is “very easy.” With the pandemic in the rearview mirror, stables are not only open again, but seem willing to accommodate both amateurs who wish to train and fans just hoping to see their heroes in action.
Indeed access to sumo can sometimes seem easier to get than information about the sport. Thankfully there is a growing number of people around the world with a solid understanding of how sumo works who have personal connections to those involved.
For any questions you can’t find answers to, however, feel free to contact me on Instagram (@johngunningisj) and I’ll endeavor to provide the information you need.
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