Great Britain has darts, America has bowling, Japan has Sumo!
Two big fat blokes locked in sporting combat – for the power, for the glory, for the tradition. OK perhaps not so much the tradition in darts. maybe for the sixteen pints of Watney's Red Barrel.
Japan has only four Sumo tournaments a year each lasting fifteen days, I had been told to arrive before dawn if I even wanted to smell a ticket.
I duly arrived before the cock had opened his eyes and was literally over-the-moon (I may as well continue the sporting theme) to find seats still available, I entered the arena to find it packed, packed with empty seats that is.
It seems that the first five hours are given over to the lower ranked, the has-beens and the 48-stone weaklings. Still, it gave me plenty of time to watch the amateurs go through the paces and find out where all fifteen toilets were located before the place started to fill out for the main events. It also gave me ample opportunity to trade in my £20 seat for one of the superior £100 ones available closer to the action.
As the day progressed the crowd grew more raucous, which by Japanese standards means they progressed from quietly clapping to shouting words of encouragement to both fighters. I am not sure what it was they kept shouting but it sounded uncannily like 'Roger Moore', I'm sure it wasn't but I haven't seen him act in much lately so maybe he has a new line of work.
The old boys in the next seats struck up a conversation and before long I was being handed cans of beer, shots of sake, bars of kit-kat and pieces of dried fish 'I'll pass thanks, fifteen's my limit' whilst being given a full run down on the finer points of the sport, such as the ongoing invasion of foreigners (Mongolians in particular) and Japan's reluctance to open it to a wider audience, I see their point, would 'Hank Hamburger-guzzler from Wisconsin weighing in at 85-stone and sponsored by Dunkin' Donuts' add much to proceedings?
Maybe not, but christ it would be funny.
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