The Japanese race as a whole, however, may be said to be well adapted to the sport of Sumo. The reason is that the Japanese, if I may be permitted to use such an ungraceful term, are rather "low in the water." By this I mean, of course, that they have been endowed by Mother Nature with long bodies and short legs.
In Sumo the point of balance or fulcrum must be as low as possible. It makes a man so much more difficult to topple. Generations of squatting on the tatami (straw mats used to cover the floor) instead of sitting on chairs have perhaps more than anything else developed the Japanese type of body. In this connection it is of interest to note that an improved diet through the increased intake of meat, bread, and dairy products, together with a greater use of chairs, is producing a taller and more massive breed.
A consequence of this has been a gradual raising of the standard required of Sumo novices. At the end of the Meiji era (around 1910) the requirement was a minimum weight of a little over 132 pounds. There was no limitation on height. By the beginning of the Showa period (1926) the standard had risen to about 160 pounds and a lad had to be at least five feet five inches in height before he could be accepted. Since May, 1957, the standard of height has been five feet seven inches and of weight 166 pounds. There can be little doubt that with the gradual improvement in Japanese physique these standards will go on rising.
The elephantine Odachi, who retired early in 1958, ranks with the Sumo giants of all time. He stepped into the ring at dose to 390 pounds and tipped the beam at six feet four inches, a veritable colossus. And that's not all. He slimmed down from well over 400 pounds, the heaviest ever, maybe. Anyway, it's an enthralling question, with such monsters as Dewa-ga-take in the field. This lad, who got as far as sekiwake (junior champion) in the 1920's, towered to a height of six feet five inches and fluctuated in weight between 360 and 430 pounds. He was so strong that certain of the regular sixty-eight holds were barred to him after he had, accidentally of course, caused the death of an opponent in the ring. The Japan Sumo Association no doubt heaved a sigh of relief when this behemoth retired just before World War II.
As for height, the modern "Eiffel Tower" is the prognathous demoted champion, Ouchiyama, who can lay claim to six feet seven and one-half inches. But way back in the 1820's there was a wrestler boasting the picturesque name of Ozora (big sky) who really was a sky-scraper, if figures don't lie. He was a staggering seven feet three inches and would have been worth his weight in gold to any basketball team. The first grand champion, Akashi, who flourished in the seventeenth century, is said to have reached seven feet five inches. But this, like most facts about this gentleman, should perhaps be taken with a big grain of salt.
CHAPTER 3
The Road to Stardom
Taro, a farmer's son, is a hefty lad; at fourteen he already tips the scales at 165 pounds. There's no matching him for miles around; he can throw all his comrades with ease. A grand champion in the making, as everyone agrees.
One day, in the course of a provincial tour, a group of noted wrestlers from Tokyo reaches the neighboring town. The word is passed around that a boy called Taro is something out of the ordinary. Inquiries are made and, before he knows where he is, he is whisked up to the capital and installed as an apprentice in one of the great Sumo gyms. Here he will live in, with his food and pocket money provided by the master of the gym, a retired Sumo great. He will be given no salary, of course, for a number of years; first he must prove himself.
Taro's gym is located in the Ryogoku area of Tokyo, where are to be found by far the greater number of these institutions; for it was in this quarter that the great tournaments were formerly held, at the arena now known as the 'Kokusai (International) Stadium. There are about fifteen of these gyms scattered throughout Ryogoku. They are nothing much to look at-just plain frame houses containing little more than the training ring itself and a large communal eatery. They house, all told, a total of approximately one thousand wrestlers. Taro's is one of the larger gyms so he finds himself a member of a squad of some seventy or eighty wrestlers, most of them apprentices like himself, but including the whole hierarchy of Sumo-dom right up to the champions and grand champions themselves.
1. THE PRESIDENT: Tokitsukaze (ex-grand champion Futabayama), president of the Japan Sumo Association, is shown in Japanese attire standing at the entrance of the gym or training quarters of which he is the master.
2 . SHIKIRI-NAOSHI: The two wrestlers here are engaged in shikiri-naoshi, which precedes a bout. They crouch, with fists firmly planted in the sand, studying each other intently. The referee, in the rear with fan upraised, regulates the proceedings.
3. UTTCHARI: In this tactic the man underneath, in this case Koto-ga-hama, wearing knee supporter, digs in with his heels on the edge of the ring and with a quick twist of the body to the left sends his opponent Shimizugawa spinning out of the arena before he himself falls.
4. THE MIGHTY FALLEN!: Lying like a pole-axed steer is the burly Tokitsuyama, the victim of Tama-no-umi's hiki-otoshi, which may be translated "pulling him down." The referee may be glimpsed in the rear, behind Tama-no-umi.
5. GRAND CHAMPION CHIYO-NO-YAMA: Chiyo-no-yama (center, with arms outstretched) is shown at the dohyo-iri with his tachimochi (left) holding the sword and tsuyuharai or attendant (right). Referee is at extreme left.
The young hopeful has a hard life in front of him as he starts out on the road to fame. In the first place he is, in spite of recent attempts at democratization, in what may frankly be described as a feudalistic set-up. His status is not unlike that of a fag at an English public school, for he has to fetch and carry for his elders, in return for which they see to it that he gets to know the ropes.
Among his other multifarious duties will be scrubbing the backs of his superiors in the bath, combing and fixing up their hair-do when training is over, and doing all the cooking and the cleaning up of the establishment. And what do the women do, you may ask? The answer is simple; there are no women, apart from the master's wife. Sumo-dom is strictly stag.
Taro and his fellow-neophytes rise at the crack of dawn and, it might be thought, start off the day by downing a hearty breakfast. Nothing of the sort! There is no breakfast. The youngsters tumble out of the sack around five or six-before the streets are aired-clean up the ring, and get going with their warming-up exercises. Their elders, as befits their rank, lie abed a little later, but they too are usually on the scene by eight at the latest. The seniors put the youngsters through their paces, tip them off as to their faults, and so on and so forth. The master of the gym is mostly in attendance to keep a watchful eye on the proceedings, but in his absence this duty is delegated to the top-ranking wrestlers.
The entire forenoon is devoted to various forms of training and practice bouts-and all the while not a bite of food. Spartans they are indeed, but then they have to be. This is no life for a weakling, and if a lad can't stand the pace, he simply drops out. It's rough all right but Taro will