Here are some big men. Well, massive would be a better word. I was surprised to see that sumo wrestlers are not only big in girth but in height, too. Not all are fat, though - some are just very solidly built. There are no weight divisions so you can see opponents of very different sizes pitted against one another. The little guy always gets a good round of "Ooo"'s and "aaaahhhh"'s and applause when triumphant. The rikishi above are the second ranked division - I have a photo of the top guys, but this one is better. I thoroughly enjoyed my day at the sumo - it's fantastic entertainment! It's dynamic and violent, but without the nausea of, say, a boxing match where some hapless guy is getting his brains beaten into scrambled eggs. There is a competition here called K-1 in which pretty much anything goes except a strike to the groin. Knees to the head, kicking someone while they're down - all OK! And sometimes KO. Sorry, that was lame. Anyway - this photo is of the round of introductions that precedes the competition. Each wrestler has an apron-thing richly embroidered with their emblem and sometimes sponsor - they're very valuable, especially those with gold thread. I guess noone wants to sponsor their bums.

The amount of ritual increases the higher the ranking you go. The raising of the legs and stamping of the ground is said to drive evil from the dohyo. This ceremony is common to all the ranks I believe. This guy was particularly flexible and the crowd rewarded him for the spectacle. One guy was so fat that he could barely raise his legs at all. Another has 2 sets of breasts. I'm not meaning to poke fun, just stating facts... they were fat.

The huge thing threatening to squash everyone is basically the roof of a Shinto shrine. From each corner hangs a different coloured rope - one for each season. These are lower ranked guys - you can tell by the fact that they are sitting rather than being paraded in like show bulls as in the previous photo. You can also tell by the fact that there's hardly anyone there to watch them. As you'd expect, the day starts with low ranks and gets progressively higher - culminating in the final bout featuring the grand champion, or yokozuna. They are sitting on a mound of compacted earth, with straw rice-bags nearly-buried into it at exact points to provide the markings of the circle in which they fight. A wrestler wins by either forcing his opponent out of the circle, or making any part of the body, other than the feet, touch the ground.

The referee is pretty much in priest's garb. He wears a kimono in the style of those worn by samurai. The lower ranks have to go bare-foot, so I guess this guy is doing okay. I like the two old guys in the background - didn't I see them up in the stalls on the Muppet Show?

As the ring is raised, sometimes the winning move is quite spectacular as the loser tumbles to his defeat. Sometimes both go out headfirst as they are locked together in a judo-hold. On such occasions the four ring-side judges are summoned to adjudicate. I saw an early bout where a smaller guy manouevered behind a big guy and simply shoved him in the back at the right time, sending him flying into the premium front row seats. Lucky it was an early bout, or the lady that was later sitting there would have been hospitalised. (It does happen! I don't want to think about what would happen to me if someone dropped 150 kilos of meat on me.)

The top guys have the privilege of throwing salt into the dohyo - an act of purification. This is followed by a lot of swaggering, slapping of bellies, bending down on haunches and then getting up again to head back over to the salt. It's a whole lot of theatre really. I'm not sure who decides when it's on, but once it starts, it's pretty quick.

Here's the grand poobah himself, yokozuna Asashoryu. Before the top bouts start he comes in to the ring with a couple of attendants to do a dance. I'm not sure what the funky get-up is all about, but having seen this guy in the flesh, I wouldn't really question his fashion sense. There are bigger wrestlers, but he does have a certain presence and air about him. Despite his name, he is actually Mongolian, as are several of the high ranked rikishi. All sumo wrestlers must adopt a Japanese name - and so the bill for the day belies the fact that you are perhaps set to see some Russians, Bulgarians, Hawaiians, Koreans and Monglolians with the Japanese contenders. I like Kotoshu, a Bulgarian. I think many Japanese bemoan the fact that their traditional national sport is presently dominated by foreigners. Hence the excitement when a local boy won the last grand tournament, ending Asashoryu's run of 8. I say "boy" as I thought at first that these guys were in their late 20's and early 30's - but most are early to mid 20's. They eat fast and die young, but get a lot of money and women if they make it big. What a life!

Oh, may I digress... whilst sumo is undeniably THE Japanese sport (despite it lacking home-grown champions), baseball is the unofficial national sport. So it was a real boon when Japan won the World Baseball Classic a couple of months ago, beating America and legends Cuba. I was happy that Japan won, but I felt sorry for Cuba who has no professional players - they all work day-jobs and play baseball for the love of it ...and on a world-class level. But yatta Japan!

Here's Asashoryu in his normal nappy grabbing some salt. The nappy's a 10 metre strip of silk hopefully securely tied at the back. Grabbing the opponent's nappy is often the key to success. There is a lot of technique that goes with the sheer throwing of bulk - a lot of holds and throws as in judo are part of many bouts. Well, this guy was looking pretty haughty, but with good reason. It was day 9 of the 15 day tournament, but he went on to win with only one loss.

Getting down to business. You forget what you're looking at after a while. No, really, you do!

Wham! No, I'm not a George Michael fan - just trying to convey how explosive some fights are... and surprisingly brutal - a lot of quick shoves and thrusts to the face are common. Hence the guy facing us makes Glen Lazarus (Aussie rugby player known as the "brick with eyes") look like a pin-up model. He was already sporting an impressive scar from a day or two before.