I Wish I Could Put on Sumo Weight

Evan Serge
Jul 21, 2017 · 3 min read
World Class Athlete in action against small child

Three seconds. Or two minutes. When the two combatants get down into the ready position, it’s only a short amount of time before the winner is decided. Stay in the circle, don’t fall to the ground, get the other person out of the circle. No punches, no low blows. Hair pulls are fine. Be big, but be smart. Stay low.

And wear a loincloth.

I was at the US Sumo Open in Long Beach, wishing that my life could approach the glamour that is the day-to-day existence of a sumo wrestler. The thrill of one-on-one combat, combined with the joy of maintaining a 600-lb physique via eating burritos and pie all day (I assume). All while wearing the most prestigious sportswear in the history of competition — the ass-cheek bearing loincloth.

Alas, my path to yokozuna could never begin. I have tried eating burritos and pie all day, but I could never approach a competitive sumo weight without my insides being in constant pain. I have tried challenging people to matches while wearing a mawashi loincloth, but only one has ever accepted, and as a result of my defeat, I can never return to The Irish Times Bar & Grill.

So I went to the US Open to gain insight on how these athletes conduct themselves. The fact that there was a lightweight division immediately lifted my spirits. Maybe I can do this! If weight isn’t an issue, and if I can easily get an ample supply of loincloths (I can), then I can get to training and on the fast track to a life of luxury with brief 10-second interludes of physical exertion.

But my dreams of fame and occasional ass-kicking disappeared as I slowly began to realize that all of the lightweight matches were interminably boring. The athletes were good, the technique was sound. They just weren’t fat. I got up and got a rice bowl and a drink. I walked around the arena. I might have taken a nap in a corner somewhere.

The real show started when the heavyweights started wrestling.

A good sumo wrestler is like an offensive lineman in football. If you’re big, you’re good enough. If your technique is sound, you’re invincible. Get lower than your opponent, and you can use your leverage to push them out of the ring. But sometimes technique just won’t work. Size matters.

The 700-lb behemoth from Egypt looked impossible to defeat. He was a giant among men. The larger man was big enough to where each step forward was a labor. He was good though — but because of power alone. Each of his opponents would get leverage at the start and push him further to the end of the ring while he weathered it until they tired. After they couldn’t push anymore, it was easy for him to move the tired wrestler out of the ring.

The only wrestler who beat him was the one who figured out that the large man couldn’t stay crouched in the start position for an extended period of time. One of the quirks of sumo is that the match doesn’t start until both wrestlers hands are on the ground. He would force the larger man to crouch, then keep only one hand on the mat, the other resting just above the floor so that the match couldn’t start, and the behemoth kept crouching. Then the behemoth would get tired, stand up, take some breaths, crouch down, and the infuriating gamesmanship would begin again.

It was as entertaining to watch as Hack-A-Shaq or the Houston Rockets this season. But for the winner, it was a necessity. He was maybe half the size of the behemoth, at most. It would be impossible to win if he went at him straight away. But if I was lined up in the circle against that beast of a man, I would have done the same thing.

But that’s a hypothetical that will never arrive. Seeing these athletes in person made me realize that it’s more about training and less about pizza. I’ll continue to enjoy the latter, without the former.

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