Orion

Note, however, that Kushimaumi was not an outstanding professional -- demonstrating once again the great difference between amateur and professional sumo that many did not manage to bridge. Orion

Like last year, all the foreigners were at the rear (the ones from the foreign schools and clubs and other places where the invitations were sent). The other three sides were filled up from local clubs and schools, noticeably for the old and the young, and for people with various disabilities. The loudspeaker commentaries and announcements were in both Japanese and English (and no other language). The staff who showed people round were in nice uniforms but they were not the regular Kokugikan staff (though I noticed some familiar faces in the background, making sure that everything was working). Orion

The homeless were employed for this purpose in the crazy days when the present Kokugikan opened. At first scalpers hired students to sleep on the street for two or three days -- then they realized that the homeless slept on the street anyway. Orion

There are three large square plates: the one the dohyo is built on, another of equal size underneath it, and the one to the rear of the dohyo At the press of a button, the dohyo one is lowered below surface level (as seen in the photo). another press and the rear plate moves forward and covers the hole over the dohyo while the plate previously under the dohyo moves backwards and up, to fill the empty space. This happens, for instance, before the February event of the Choir of 5,000 singing Beethoven's 9th. For this, the orchestra sits on the plate above the dohyo. When the dohyo is needed again, the whole process happens in reverse. Of course, this mechanical process was put in place only in the present Kokugikan, which opened in January 1985. At that time I was writing for all kinds of papers and magazines (and also sang in the Choir of 5,000) so I took every opportunity of learning about this -- and when possible, actually being there. Orion

He was very helpful with Mitakeumi when he was coming up the ladder, sort of waiting on him but also showing him how to behave like a sekitori. A tactful job of helping a junior rise to a height he himself wasn't going to reach again. Orion

Starting from the end, if you are talking to a man who is obviously in sumo and you don't know his shikona, it is acceptable in Japanese to address him or refer to him as "sumo-san" or, more politely, "o-sumo-san." If you are talking about such a man (rather than addressing him directly) "sumotori" is always right. In all these contexts, the word "sumo" (plural "sumos") used a a noun has always been wrong, and is generally used by would-be journalists who haven't done any homework in the right places. Orion

I recall that a man who has been a sekitori never becomes someone else's tsukebito -- but I don't recall if this is a rule or a custom. Orion

I can only reply from the opposite point of view. The first sumo I saw on live TV was Osaka 1968, when on the last day Wakanami, at that time a hiramaku, won his bout but nobody made a big fuss, as Kirinji (later Daikirin) was confidently expected to win his bout and clinch the yusho. When he lost, it finally sank in that Wakanami had already won the yusho a whole lot earlier. Many years later, when I was researching recent sumo history, a good friend (Dewanishiki?) told me that it was then that the rikishi themselves demanded that in the second half of a tournament lower-ranked men with very good scores should be brought up to face higher-ranked men in the top bouts. Orion

No. If he'd already told his oyakata that he was in no state to appear at the Soken, then it was the oyakata's duty to inform the Kyokai. Simple as that. Orion Orion

Decades ago I was informed that, unlike the regular silk mawashi worn for the actual bouts, which goes on next to the skin, they wear a plain loincloth to protect the valuable kesho-mawashi; but I have never attempted to verify this. Orion

Memories, memories... On my first visit to Japan, staying at a farm up in the mountains near Nikko, I saw the Osaka basho 1968 on TV. Our host couldn't manage much English but my interest had already been piqued by a very good article in the Singapore Straits Times shortly before our departure, and I watched avidly. That's how I saw Takamiyama's first kinboshi (the first foreigner to beat a yokozuna) and, a couple of days later, the yokozuna lost again and promptly announced his retirement. Five years later I returned to Japan and have been living here ever since, and after another five years I moved into the sumo neighborhood and was accepted as the first-ever foreign paying supporter of Dewanoumi-beya. Even then, I didn't immediately cotton on to the fact that the master was the yokozuna whose retirement I had seen on TV so many years earlier. And that, folks, is how I got started in sumo. Orion

Across the road, catty-corner, there's a small shop selling Japanese footwear that includes big sizes and in particular, items that are comparatively narrow in relation to their length, a feature of many foreign feet. Many many moons ago I featured it in an article on all Japanese footwear, including an interview with the owner . Orion

So have I -- and not many years ago. One of the NHK staff draped a Konishiki-sized jacket over me -- and I just disappeared! Orion

On the morning before each Tokyo basho starts, there is the dohyo-matsuri, in which the freshly-made Kokugikan dohyo is consecrated by the tate gyoji, assisted by one makunouchi-kaku and one juryo-kaku gyoji. The Kyokai top brass sit on chairs at the front, plus (these days) the top-ranking rikishi; all the shimpan sit along the east and west sides of the dohyo, and all the remaining gyoji, in business suits, sit in the floor seats at the rear. Members of the public can also watch from the seats outside the official ones. When the short (about 30 mins) ceremony is over, all those in the know rush outside to the main doorway where the large photographs of the last two yusho winners are propped upright, and they are presented one by one to the winners, who also receive the "real" small one that is their personal memento. (Having smaller copies made to give away is a personal matter for the winners. I've never seen those before.) They are usually persuaded to shake hands and pose for the general public, while yobidashi and workmen lose no time in manhandling the two yusho-gaku up into the places under the rafters where the two oldest ones have already been removed and taken to the basement store-room. Orion

This is precisely what I was trying to say in my last week's post, to which one or two people have tried to add from a Wiki search. In the meantime, in my regular job which is behind the scenes, I have prevented a minor problem (major catastophe? ) by using my knowledge of Mongolian names. IMHO the basic problem for Hakuho may be that his father Jigjid was the first Mongolian to represent his country in any Olympic Games -- he even had to take part in the opening ceremony carrying the Mongolian flag ( and somewhere I still have the photo!). I am only guessing, since it is several years since I had the chance to talk directly with Hakuho, that he may be unwilling to appear to outdistance his father at that level. Orion