Rise and Shine if You Want to See Sumo in Time

Bucket List Item #1: Sumo wrestling-CHECK

Tokyo, Japan

Sumo wrestling wasn’t something I had a huge interest in or knew much about, but I was aware it was an interesting part of the Japanese culture I wanted to see. Luckily, during my time in Tokyo there was a large sumo wrestling tournament taking place.

I only had two days left to buy a ticket, but it would involve an early morning rise and a long wait with the possibility of leaving empty handed.

My second morning in Tokyo, my alarm begged me to get out of bed at 5 a.m. Still a bit jet-legged, I enjoyed my pillow another 30 minutes; having no desire to get up at all. Reminding myself how badly I wanted to see sumo and the opportunity to do so was very limited, I finally got myself together. Ignoring my slow morning ritual of drinking coffee for an hour or so, I headed towards the pavilion.

Once I arrived, my hope to be a lucky owner of a ticket dwindled. The line was well over 200, which was roughly the amount of tickets available. I parked myself in the back of the line anyway; hoping someone would suddenly have to leave or magically another 50 tickets would appear. A few minutes later, a woman approached me, apologizing that it was not worth my time waiting because I surely would not get a ticket. She informed me that it was best to try again tomorrow. Arriving at 3:30 a.m. would probably put me in a good place in line.

“3:30 a.m.!? Well, what about 4:30  or 5 a.m.?” I asked. She further explained that it may be possible, but it would be the last day of the tournament, so even more people will want to attend. Judging by the other hopefuls in line, with their blankets, food and chairs, I figured she was probably right. I vowed to try again, but 3:30 a.m. stuck in my head the rest of the day. I decided to compromise and arrive no later than 5 a.m. the next day since the Tokyo metro likes to sleep later as well. If that wasn’t early enough, then it I guess wasn’t meant to be.

The next morning was round two. I was feeling positive and determined even though it was 4 a.m. and my eyes felt as though they were full of lead. I was able to squeeze in a quick two cups of instant coffee and delicious piece of dry bread before heading on my way.

There was an Australian guy named Chris who was also in the lobby. Since it was 4 a.m. I figured he had either just got back from a night of partying or was hoping to see the big fellas wrestle too, because why else would anyone be awake at such a ridiculous hour? He informed me that he was indeed on his way to find a spot in line. So, we took the hostel staff’s advice and brought a few pieces of cardboard  to sit on and I shoved a few coffee packets in my bag since the first two cups weren’t putting a dent in my energy level.

The plus side of getting up early, (I’ve always wanted to be a morning person), and having to walk because all modes of transportation were sleeping, was that I was able to experience the tranquility of the streets. No people, no voices, no cars. My ears were filled with nothing but the good morning chatter of the birds and the swooshing sound of my pants. The temple I had visited the day before, crowded and without an opportunity for a picture on its own, seemed even more beautiful and surreal. I felt as though it may have actually heard my prayers without distraction (no, I wasn’t only asking kindly for sumo tickets).

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been awake early enough to see the sunrise, but it greeted me with a smile and a sense of welcomeness. The pleasant stroll allowed time for me to manifest some positive thoughts. I WILL get a ticket!

I counted the number of hopefuls in line and this time is was under 200 so I gave myself permission to get a little excited. We laid out our cardboard pieces and settled into what would be our spot for the next few hours. The communal Monopoly game from the hostel made the trip too; just incase we had enough people watching (I know, there is never enough of that).

Hours later, the same apologetic woman from the day before, started passing out ticket numbers. I recounted the number of people in line to relieve a bit of my anxiety and my positive manifesting reached its height. “Please, please let me get a ticket. No, whoops. I meant to say, I WILL get a ticket. I WILL get a ticket.” I repeated to myself.

Before I could swallow the last gulp of my fourth cup of coffee, I was handed a ticket number. “Does this mean I really have a ticket? For sure?,” I excitedly ask the woman. “Yes, ma’am. For sure,” She replied back with a kind smile and a giggle. She may have thought I was a little crazy or maybe she just assumed it was the lack of sleep or the 3 and half hour wait.

Later that day we headed back to the pavilion. The tournament started around 2 p.m. but, as excited as I was to be able to experience sumo I didn’t need to watch it for five hours. We checked out the little history of sumo wrestling museum and sat outside to people watch for awhile. The wrestlers walked by, stopping frequently to take pictures with fans, waddling on their way. I couldn’t comprehend how large a human being could be. Not only the width and height of their bodies, but the enormity of their faces, hands and feet! It must have taken someone a good amount of time to sew a kimono that size. I could have put it on my queen size bed as a comforter and still would have some hanging over the edge. As intimidating as they looked, it was also apparent how kind, patient and appreciative they were; stopping to visit with the fans with a smile. If teddy bears could walk, they would be just that.

We took the opportunity to try a Japanese stew called Chankonabe, which the wrestlers eat in large quantities to bulk up. It’s a hearty bowl of chicken broth-based soup full of rice, noodles, veggies, chicken legs and sometimes tofu and beef. I was full after one bowl and wasn’t in the mood to find a larger pair of pants the next day, but I can only imagine how many the big guys eat. I assumed that they filled up on greasy, fatty foods that can put on some serious weight, but it makes sense that they eat this healthier, high-protein stew because yes, they do have fat on their bodies but, they are actually extremely muscular and fit men. I’m sure a pile of french fries and chicken nuggets are better for a nice nap than a good fight.

I plopped myself into my seat and soaked in the environment I had waited two days for. I looked around and saw people dozing off, which was probably a hint that not everyone was as overly excited I was. Or it may have been that everyone apparently knew that one of the Mongolian wrestlers was certain to win the tournament.

The entire fight only last a short time. The first few minutes the wrestlers concentrate on mentally preparing for the fight by staring at each other’s eyes; deciding whether they are ready to attack or not. One fighter will decide he isn’t mentally ready yet so takes a minute to himself on the side of the ring. This typically went on back and forth a few times before one fighter finally decides it’s time. Once one makes his move, they charge at each other full speed, slamming their bodies together like the sound of fresh, stuff-crust pizza dough slapping on a pan. The idea is to push the opponent to the outside of the circle. Once one’s foot steps on the ring, it’s over. Surprisingly, this occurred quickly so the actual fight lasted on average 20 seconds.

I really enjoyed it and reminded myself how grateful I was to be able to experience this part of the culture. It was definitely worth the lack of sleep, large quantities of coffee and long, uncertain waits.

How long would you wait in line to get sumo wrestling tickets?