This is the second part of Justin’s article about his experience at Kyokutaisei’s sumo training venue. For the earlier post, click here.
Suriashi and Psychological Warfare:
Next came suriashi or “sliding feet”. The goal is to combine that low posture from the squats with forward movement, keeping feet close to the ground. You should almost slide forward on the rough sand rather than step. The goal is to improve balance, strength, stability, and (or course) proper footwork. Each of us had to take our turns moving from the tachi-ai stance across the dohyo where we met up with Kyokutaisei standing at the other side.
This is where he introduced a bit of mischief. He was directing us which way to go along the perimeter of the circle. However, he was pointing in one direction while turning his body and head in the other, almost daring us to follow the wrong signal.
Already suffering from some leg exhaustion, it was not easy to maintain concentration and some slight missteps ensued – producing some laughter in the heavy air of the sumo ring. Still, it brought home an important lesson: sumo requires attention and discipline even during the most basic movements.
Not moving very far, but legs already filing an official complaint. A few days later, we walked up to the top of Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyōtō and still did not hurt as much as a few steps across the ring.
My son vs. Physics
My son is working on his undergraduate degree in Astrophysics. He knows the theory and loves math and explaining the fundamental rules that govern nature. He arrived with the equations. Kyokutaisei came with empirical evidence.
We had reached the part of the morning training called butsukari-geiko. This is where we had to charge forward from one end of the ring right into the chest of our opponent. They would receive the impact, and we would attempt to push them back to the other end of the ring and out. Of course, they did not make it easy. Our goal was to show our “explosive power” from the tachiai, our endurance and fighting spirit, and proper technique and footwork.
My son considered this an exercise in “a supposedly unstoppable force against an immovable object”. Of course, our force was not really that “unstoppable”. But his description was not far from the truth. First off, there is a bit of hesitation to collide with somebody and bury your face right into their chest. Be it sweat or timidity, you must quickly overcome it. Otherwise, you will not generate any forward power or momentum. And really, there is no substitute for this experience. We got to throw ourselves up against someone who had spent years training to resist this kind of forward onslaught. These retired rikishi still had the innate ability to lower their center of gravity and become that immovable object.
Yes, this picture was used earlier as a spoiler. I just love showing my bald head. But look at those slide marks across the dohyo. We were pushing them back!
The exercise provided a tiny glimpse into what lower-ranked wrestlers experience daily: absorbing charge after charge while developing technique, toughness, and endurance. I now was feeling a lot more respect for the daily routines of my heroes in the ring. My feet were scratched, my knuckles bleeding from scraping the ground. Sweat pouring from my brow. My respect for those who have chosen this lifestyle was growing by the second.
Congratulations were given when we finally drove them out
I will take a brief timeout to mention that their staff took all these pictures and videos while we were training and enjoying the experience. Thus, we were not tethered to our cameras the entire time. Furthermore, they provided an interpreter. To be fair, I handled almost all the conversations in my rusty Japanese. However, if you did not learn Japanese from drunken old men in an izakaya 30-years ago, you can still fully enjoy the experience and get everything explained in English. Do not let any language barrier stop you from enjoying. Really, how many people around the world get to say they wore a mawashi, did morning training exercises and took sumo against real former top division rikishi?
They took each of us aside and gave us some instructions on technique. My son was given lessons in tsuki-oshi (aiming high chest and neck until you have the opponent at the edge of the ring and bending backwards, then go low towards the belly to finish them off). My wife was given hatakikomi (looking for the opponent to be low or off balance and slapping them down). To me, they gave uwatenage. I was told to keep my head in their chest, lower my center of gravity, and pivot using my hips to generate power while turning my entire body into the throw). Now, I do have some ancient jūdō background (I got a black belt from the Kōdōkan jūdō association in 1995). I was hoping to have some sort of muscle memory.
Speaking of that… Are We Actually Fighting?
Then we moved on to matches.
Let me preface all this by saying that my family and I are not fighters. While my son is captain of his university’s foil fencing team, we are not really into contact sports. I only got the black belt 30 years ago because the Master of the izakaya was 6th degree and an elite teacher. There is no way I would have passed the exam, except for a secret technique he taught me the night before the test. That is a story for another time.
For a sumo fan, there are some moments that can bring an oversized amount of joy – such as performing the rituals you only ever watched from the stands. I was there, in the ring, and completed the chiri-chōzu – without a mistake. This earned the respect of the coaches. The movements are simple enough, but surprisingly more difficult to remember when you are confronting a rikishi. Doing the chiri-chōzu made me feel, just for a moment, a part of the long history and tradition of sumo. I consider my flawless performance a personal “kinboshi” of a sort. And now, here we were. Suddenly crouching at the shikiri-sen, preparing for tachiai against former professional wrestlers.
The moment of truth. And yes, you get to throw the salt!
There is no going back now! Unlike the Sumo and Sushi experience, I am wearing a mawashi. I am going to have a proper tachiai. A real collision.
Man-to-man showdown. 男と男の真剣勝負 (Otoko to otoko no shinken shōbu)
This was it! This is a real sumo challenge. It was not easy for 50-something, non-athletic, scrawny guy to go up against even former Hakuyō (the referee in the pic). Let alone a former top division wrestler! So, they let us have some fun against them. The funniest moment came during my wife’s very first match. She is a fast learner. Drawing on my “technique” from the Sumo and Sushi match, she opened with a spectacular nekodamashi.
Are you awake?
Kyokutaisei froze for a split second, and before anyone could process what had happened, she had pushed him back and secured a quick victory.
To the victor go the spoils
The room erupted in laughter. Everyone recognized that she was also, apparently, a long-time fan to be able pull off such a move. I was told “your wife must definitely be watching some sumo with you, after all!” Among all the things I expected to witness that afternoon, my wife winning a bout with a trick was not one of them.
Even with a thin grip on reality, I had a good grip on Hakuyō.
We had matchups against Kyokutaisei and Hakuyō. Photos would not do justice for my son’s match against Kyokutaisei. My son charged forward and collided with him with such speed that Kyokutaisei sidestepped, expecting my son to defeat himself and go out of the ring with his own forward momentum. As Kyokutaisei deftly moved out of the way, my son headed straight to the tawara with enough speed to carry him right out. But somehow, he slammed on the breaks at exactly the right moment, stopping himself at the very last opportunity.
Older folks like me would have easily stepped out. My son, however, immediately regained his balance, turned and re-engaged. That tenacity, him not giving up on the bout after nearly losing it, must serve him well in fencing, too! It is something I had not witnessed in him before. This real fighting spirit and tenacity to win. This match was far from over. My son re-engaged a second time and the same thing happened again. His attack was wild and frenzied and almost carried him out of the ring, such that Kyoktaisei stopped fighting and just stood there.
Big mistake. He was caught off guard by my son’s third engagement and was now on the edge himself. My son, with his feet still moving and his momentum now aimed correctly at a target on the edge of the ring completed a textbook oshidashi! Photos could not capture these recoveries, the persistence, and my son’s determination that the bout would not be over until he won! Congrats were seriously in order.
Although he could work on his Ottsuke
My wife was back, literally. Jumping on the back of Hakuyō attempting to pull off a hataki-komi.
Eventually, she was successful
I will never forget her jumping on the back of a sumo wrestler. One of the funniest things I have witnessed.
Wearing a Keishō Mawashi
After our good workout, they were kind enough to take their photos with the family. First, all in our regular mawashi:
Sandwiched between former Ōshima-beya rikishi!
Then we had a chance to wear a keishō mawashi. A keishō is much more than decorative, it is a rikishi’s expression of identity, gratitude, sponsorship, education, tradition, and status. Only sekitori are allowed to wear them during the ring-entering ceremony, and it can signify reaching professional status and financial independence in sumo. In the Middle Ages, only the knights could have a coat of arms or heraldic banner. This is the sumo equivalent. For any sumo fan, it is a memorable and humbling moment to be given permission to don this attire.
at this point, the photos are really secondary to the experience
The apron is surprisingly heavy. The connection to the wrestlers is the real treasure and turned out to be our best souvenir. In this case, we were literally wearing culture, not just observing it.
This experience was a rare chance to interact directly with people who devoted their lives to this singular pursuit. I came expecting to sample sumo and share it with my family. We left with a better understanding of the daily lives and dedication of the wrestlers. We left with a better understanding of the spiritual side of the sport and felt a connection to the centuries of tradition and Shinto practice.
When we were reflecting on the experience later that evening, my wife and I came to a realization. We are not fighters. We are not violent people. Yet, in the ring, we were colliding full force with people we just met, holding them by the throat (nodowa), and pushing/slapping at them. We are just in a fight. Not an angry or violent fight intended to hurt someone, but a real physical contest that pushed us out of our comfort zones and to our physical limits.
Many visitors will come thinking they will observe a cultural activity, but the experience with Kyokutaisei is much more than that. You learn through experience. You push yourself more than you know, and your legs will hate you very much walking up and down all those Tokyo steps in the metro for the next few days.
Throughout the session you will also notice subtle reminders that these men had paid a high price for their careers. You notice the old injuries, the surgical scars, the lingering evidence of pushing their bodies to the limits. Their sacrifices for the sport are visible in ways not easily caught on camera.
We came to the understanding that these exercises are merely the beginning. First, a new entrant has to survive the training routine, then climb into the ring against someone twice your size, and then do it again tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that. This experience reminded me that underneath all of the glory of rankings, championships, and intrigue each bashō, there lies something much deeper: discipline, dedication, sacrifice, and a sense of community. If only an hour and a half of training left my legs shaking for the rest of the day, I can scarcely imagine the commitment required to make that life your own.
I would like to take the last words to express how grateful my family is to Kyokutaisei, Hakuyō, and Kyokuhikari. The other side of the violent, combat sport world coin is a calm kindness. Each of them was entirely patient with us, curious to know why and how foreigners came to know so much about sumo, and happy to note (with some pride) how we were all enjoying the experience. They helped us with the mawashi, gave us clear instructions, answered all our questions, and were glad to share their stories and their connections to the sumo world with us. We could not have chosen better guides to help us take those important steps into the culture and world of a sumo wrestler.
Thank you for reading. I plan on some article about viewing Tatsunami-beya’s morning practice a few days later. And with a much greater appreciation for what we were to see there. Look for it in the next few days. If there is interest, I am considering an article about the Japan trip and our itinerary – for those who may be curious about what someone with some Japan experience 30 years ago recommended for his own family.
I have been a sumo fan for more than 30 years. I attended the Las Vegas Koen in 2005 (where I met a young Hakuhō and Ama/Harumafuji wrestling in the lazy river of the Mandalay bay).
Justin in Vegas, wearing a specially designed shirt that said 資本主義の野郎 on the back
I have participated in Konishiki’s Sumo and Sushi’s “Get in the Ring” event and pulled off a victory.
Justin had to “build his body” for this bout
My retirement from sumo came with Takakeishō style weight loss. I made the rally towels
After more than three decades of following sumo, I thought I had a reasonable understanding of what rikishi do and a good understanding of how to make a sumo-themed izakaya.
Senshūraku party at my place?
The bottom line is that I thought I “knew” sumo. I know the terminology, the kanji, the banzuke, the statistics. I can call (poorly) the kimarite in a bout. After Sumo and Sushi, I even thought I knew what “taking sumo” felt like. There is a difference between knowledge and wisdom, and part of that is derived from experience.
During my family’s recent trip to Japan (May/June), we had a chance to take a mini-morning training exercise under the guidance of former top division’s Kyokutaisei (旭大星). For those who do not recall, he was subject of a French Documentary in 2009.
Free polar bear hugs!
This experience is what gave me and my family the chance to learn more about sumo. Since the experience, I see the sport differently, and in a much more appreciative way. Please allow me to explain.
We booked the opportunity to participate in former maegashira Kyokutaisei’s sumo training experience. Kyokutaisei was supported by former rikishi Kyokuhikari and Hakuyō. After only a few minutes, the contrast was stark: watching sumo and living even a tiny fragment of it are entirely different things. The training regime is brutal and one does leave their blood, sweat, and tears in the ring. By the end of the session, my family had gained an entirely new level of respect for the men who dedicate their lives to this sport.
A Peek Behind the Curtain
When I lose something, I now always look behind the curtains and expect to see rikishi there
Sumo remains one of the most unique corners of Japanese culture. The more you study it, the more you realize you have left to learn. Almost every one of us has encountered sumo via streaming, online videos, live TV or (if you are lucky to get tickets) from the seats of the Kokugikan. Unlike many other sports, for non-Japanese, it is almost exclusively observed from a distance.
Let’s be clear, my wife and son were good sports for joining me on this adventure. As the family’s resident sumo obsessive, I was the obvious enthusiast. They were willing participants. Let’s also say that they have had 30 years of second-hand exposure to sumo, so they did not walk in completely unawares.
Nevertheless, at the end of the day, my wife summed up the experience better than I could. She called it a “peek behind the curtain.” Ironically, she had no idea that the English translation of makunouchi (sumo’s top division) is often given as “behind the curtain.”
Peeking behind the curtain is exactly what this experience offered.
The experience began with our arrival and introductions. Right away, everyone was approachable and quite appreciative of meeting foreign fans that were not typical tourists. I knew the wrestlers and their histories. Kyokuhikari was impressed that I recalled his debut was in 1992 and Hakuyō was shocked to hear that I knew his stable (Isenoumi) and that he had only retired within the last year. I explained that I would do a write-up for the blog, and everyone was amenable. Of course, these are now businessmen, selling a product and it must have been very different for them, men who had spent years inside the closed and demanding world of the heya system, to welcoming complete amateurs into their world. We could tell that we were in for something special. This experience is different.
The Mawashi Moment
Perhaps the first surprise was having a mawashi put on.
They spun me right round, baby!
My wife got pumped up. Yes, women can participate in this event
I had imagined it would feel impossibly tight everywhere. Yes, I mean everywhere. Men know what I am talking about. Instead, the tightness was concentrated around the waist and it remained quite comfortable. Yes, we had to wear shorts and t-shirts, nobody wants to use second-hand mawashi. So, they keep it clean.
The mawashi fabric was remarkably sturdy and heavy. It was more substantial than I had expected. The moment you grab one, you can quickly understand its purpose. A mawashi isn’t simply clothing, it is sumo’s main tool. A grip on the mawashi is all it took to realize how easily it would assist in moving, lifting, or controlling your opponent. Feeling and using that leverage in your hands is entirely different than watching a yorikiri battle on TV.
It seemed they were more prepared to host larger tourist or corporate events, not a small family of three. But they were all happy to spend the time with us to get us prepared.
My son is so darned lucky. I had to wait over 30 years to get this experience. His hair was long enough for a proper mage, no?
Finally kitted out
Fate Decides Your Shiko
Then came our first “asa-geiko” training. As expected, the first exercise was shiko. However, they did not present us with any ordinary shiko. They came around with a box and we had to draw lots to determine how many repetitions we would do. Every draw felt like a lottery in reverse as nobody wanted to get the high number.
There were ping-pong balls numbered 5-50 in increments of 5. I got 30, my son 15. My wife, who usually has good luck, got the 50. Of course, they did have some mercy on her. One of the instructors mentioned that wrestlers may perform hundreds of shiko—sometimes around 500 in a training day. An order of magnitude less should have been easy for an amateur, no? No!
No matter how many stomps were assigned, every one of us had legs that were starting to turn to liquid.
Yoishou!!!!!
As an amateur, surviving a small sample felt like an accomplishment. For a rikishi, it’s simply a small portion of their regular morning routine.
That was just the start. We then had to go through our second round of “test your luck”. We had to draw the ball that determined how many seconds we would have to hold a squat position.
What you do not see here is the quivering
If the shiko hurt, the squats were another level entirely. Once again, due to their mercy on my wife’s high draw, it was down to me to handle 20 seconds of the squat (15 for my son). I noticed that within moments, my thighs began quaking. The wrestlers noted, too, that my legs were trembling. A burning sensation spread higher and higher until maintaining the position became an exercise in willpower more than strength.
And then came the moment of enlightenment: professional rikishi do this every day and they do not get the luck of a small ping pong number. They must do this for minutes, tens of minutes at a time. Everyday.
Part II coming soon – with Surashi, Butsukari-geiko, and learning some kimarite.
Kōseiryū handled his makushita debut quite well, securing a winning record and showing that he can compete credibly at this level. He opened strongly with a 4‑1 start, highlighted by notable victories over former top-division rikishi Kitaharima and makushita tsukedashi Gyōtoku. He even managed a sotogake win, highlighting his jūdō skills. At his best, he showed good composure – which is a reasonable expectation given his age. However, he dropped his final two bouts, which may highlight some lingering limitations in consistency and adaptability. Even so, he will approach mid-makushita ranks in Nagoya.
Kasshō’s first appearance in makushita was a respectable one given his relatively high debut rank. He finished 3‑4, only slipping to a losing record in his final bout, and generally held his own against a deeper field of opponents. There were encouraging victories along the way, including wins over former Jūryō man Mienofuji and Mongolian prospect Tenrōsei. With some added polish and consistency, he could remain competitive in makushita going forward. He will likely rank in the bottom of the division in Nagoya, and I actually suspect we will see him back in Sandanme before the year is out.
Honoikazuchi showed that he likely belongs in makushita, even if his tournament began on uneven footing. He dropped his first two bouts, the first one via a defensive utchari reversal that got away from him possibly due to nerves, but quickly settled and found his rhythm. From there, he reeled off five consecutive wins, including a solid victory over former Nihon University’s Haruyama. The shift was notable not just in results but in style, as he increasingly leaned into belt work, taking four of those five wins by yorikiri. What began as a shaky debut ultimately turned into one of the more convincing finishes among this group, and he should be around mid-Makushita in Nagoya.
Ōmori delivered one of the standout debuts among the shin‑makushita, pushing all the way into the playoff after compiling a strong record in regulation. His only loss came in a highly anticipated bout against Asahifuji (see below), in a match that felt like an early glimpse of two potential future sanyaku contenders, and he otherwise demonstrated a well-rounded and adaptable skill set. In the playoff, he ultimately fell to the eventual winner Ikarigata, but the overall performance was highly encouraging. He showed a clear proficiency for throws, using a variety of techniques to decisively end bouts, while also proving capable against his direct peers with wins over fellow debutants Tatsubayama and Gōnoshō. Taken together, this was a debut that not only confirmed his readiness for makushita, but also hinted at considerable upside. One thing is clear, he will be a popular rikishi among the fans.
Gōnoshō put together a successful makushita debut, ultimately finishing with a winning record. He came out quickly with three straight victories, including a win over Haruyama, before hitting a mid‑basho slump with three consecutive losses as the competition stiffened. Needing a win in his final bout, he responded well and defeated former top-division veteran rikishi Fujiazuma to secure kachi‑koshi. His sumo leaned heavily on belt work, with three yorikiri wins, complemented by a kimedashi, highlighting his preference for grappling. With this performance, he should find himself in the Makushita 40–45 range.
Tatsubayama also turned in a strong makushita debut, finishing 5‑2 after a 4-0 start and positioning himself firmly in the top half of the division heading into Nagoya. He picked up a notable win over Koseiryū, though he came up short against Ōmori and ultimately missed out on the playoff, falling in his final bout to former Jūryō wrestler Tsushimanada. The results were encouraging, but his sumo still appears to be in the process of refinement. Several of his wins came via reactive techniques (two tsukiotoshi, a hatakikomi, and a hikiotoshi). This left me with some question as to how his style will translate against stronger, more stable opponents higher up the banzuke.
Takahara put together a respectable 4‑3 performance in his makushita debut, including a win over former makushita tsukedashi Fudōhō. He should be ranked in the upper 30s of the division heading into Nagoya. To me, his tournament felt somewhat uneven, with wins and losses coming against what appeared to be similarly matched competition. At his best, he showed the tools to compete effectively, but he was not always able to assert a clear advantage or sustain momentum across bouts. Going forward, the hope is that he can take a step forward in consistency to begin to separate himself from this middle tier as he gains more experience in makushita.
Looking Ahead
Onto the Nagoya 2026 Makushita rookies:
Asahifuji (旭富士)
Stable: Isegahama
Age: 24
Height (cm/feet-inches): 187 / 6’1”
Weight (kg/lbs): 148 / 326
Home country: Ulaanbaatar Mongolia
High School: Asahigaoka High School
University: —
Career Record and notes: 21-0 (1.000)!!
Debut: Aki 2025
Notes: Jonokuchi Yūshō (January), Jonidan Yūshō (March 2026), and Sandanme Yūshō (May 2026). Possibility of reaching sekitori: will say 100%.
Asahifuji arrives in makushita with a level of anticipation rarely attached to a wrestler this early in his career. A native of Mongolia, he followed a now familiar path by attending a Japanese high school (Niigata Asahigaoka, which has some Mongolian success, see below) before joining Isegahama stable in 2021(!). However, his trajectory diverges sharply from the typical prospect. Rather than debuting immediately upon joining the stable, he spent four years in a sort of “enforced limbo” due to the one‑foreigner‑per‑stable rule. This appears to be a delay that, in his case, may have been transformative rather than limiting.
During his high school years, competitive opportunities were somewhat constrained. With Mongolian upperclassmen such as Ōnokatsu and Kyokukaiyū ahead of him, he was not always a central figure in the team’s lineups. The pandemic further reduced his ability to perform in school tournaments at a national level. This left him with only a handful of national appearances. as the leadoff man for Kanagawa. His results at the National High School Championships were more modest, but he did contribute to the team’s top eight finish at the National Sports Festival as a sophomore and finished in the top 32 of the National High School Sumo Championships (losing to current makushita, Nobehara).
What sets Asahifuji apart is what came next. While waiting for his chance to compete professionally, he effectively underwent a prolonged incubation period inside Isegahama stable, training daily alongside high‑level sekitori without the wear and tear of official bouts. Reports from this period include training victories over sekitori (including Kiribayama/Kirishima) added to the growing sense that he was something special. This kind of extended preparation is rare in modern sumo. However, it has clearly produced a rikishi who debuted not as a raw prospect, but as an already polished competitor.
That sense of expectation was formalized when he was granted the shikona Asahifuji, inheriting the name of the 63rd Yokozuna and former Oyakata (currently Miyagino). It is not a name bestowed lightly, and it immediately marked him as a flagship prospect. External hype followed swiftly, with some outlets going so far as to label him the strongest new recruit in recent memory.
Once he finally stepped into the ring, the early results did little to temper that excitement. Back‑to‑back 7‑0 yūshō in Jonokuchi and Jonidan confirmed both his dominance over lower‑division opposition and his readiness for more serious tests. He was able to defeat fellow Mongolian prospect Tenshōyama in each of those first two tournaments and defeated former sekitori Kiryūkō (only low on the banzuke because he is rehabbing from injury) in back-to-back playoffs in for his jonidan and sandanme championships. In his last tournament, he also came up with victories against Fudōhō, Ōmori, and former sekitori Mita. This indicates his skill level is already sekitori caliber. His sumo is built around a fundamentally sound yotsu approach, relying heavily on yorikiri and nage finishes rather than trickery or evasion. He combines size and strength with a composure that is unusual for someone with so little official experience, and he rarely looks rushed or out of position.
Now entering upper makushita (he will be ranked in the promotion zone, where another 7-0 will result in promotion to jūryō), the picture can become more nuanced. In many ways, he is both ahead of and behind a typical prospect as he is technically advanced and physically prepared, yet still relatively untested in terms of adapting across a full range of opponents and match situations. The key question is not whether he has the tools, but how quickly he can translate them against deeper, more tactically varied competition. His high‑profile meeting with fellow standout Ōmori suggests that he is capable of competing immediately, but also that there will be adjustments required as the margin for error narrows. There is little doubt about the upside. Asahifuji looks like a fast‑track sekitori candidate, and perhaps more. The next phase will determine whether he is simply very good or truly something special.
Sachinofuji (幸乃富士)
Stable: Isegahama
Age: 20
Height (cm/feet-inches): 172 / 5’7”
Weight (kg/lbs): 98 / 215
Home prefecture: Saitama
High School: NHK Gakuen High
University: —
Career Record and notes: 82-60-19 (.577)
Debut: 2022 Nagoya
Notes: Mongolian national
Possibility of reaching sekitori: Unlikely
While he is also from Isegahama stable, Sachinofuji represents a very different kind of prospect from Asahifuji, one whose development runs counter to the typical narratives attached to both foreign imports and elite amateur standouts. Born in Mongolia as Ganzorig Origil, he moved to Japan at the age of five and grew up in Saitama. This meant that, from the perspective of the NSK, he qualified not as a foreigner but as a domestic recruit. Unlike many other Mongolian wrestlers, he was not recruited with a wrestling pedigree or prior exposure to sumo. In fact, he entered the sport with no competitive background at all, beginning his career from a true blank slate.
This helped me, a 30-plus year sumo fan learn the concept of “tatakiage / 叩き上げ”. A tatakiage is actually my favorite type of recruit, one who comes straight from middle school without any prior experience and is “built from scratch” in the stable. You will note above that Sachinofuji attended NHK Gakuen High School, but this is a correspondence-based institution that allowed him to train while forgoing the typical amateur circuit.
The beginning of his sumo career reflected both the challenges and opportunities of that path. Injuries disrupted his initial progress, forcing withdrawals in his first year and slowing what might otherwise have been a smoother ascent. Yet once he found his footing, his advancement has been steady rather than spectacular, marked by incremental improvement rather than sudden breakthroughs. His promotion to Sandanme in 2024 was less a moment of arrival than a confirmation that the underlying development process was working.
Physically, Sachinofuji faces immediate constraints. At around 172 cm and 98kg, he is undersized by modern standards, particularly as he moves into the upper reaches of the lower divisions. Heck, he even weighs less than I did in my famous “Sumo and Sushi” bout (well, at least it is famous in my mind…). His sumo has begun to reflect an adaptation to those limitations. He tends to work from a lower position, relying on balance, leverage, and patience rather than attempting to overpower opponents.
His stylistic influences are also telling. As a tsukebito to Midorifuji, someone who has openly identified as his role model, Sachinofuji has front row seats to see what characteristics are needed for a smaller rikishi to succeed. That is, he needs to work on his precision, persistence, and the ability to exploit positioning rather than to sheer force.
Off the dohyo, his profile reinforces the impression of a grounded, well-integrated heya product. His preferences, karaage, mobile gaming, and a generally understated demeanor, are beginning to give him a small fandom, with some media attention even focusing on his composed and “handsome” presence after bouts. As he makes his makushita debut, the challenge will be significant: opponents will be larger, faster, and less forgiving of technical imprecision.
His ceiling may ultimately be determined by how far his technique can compensate for his size. If he can continue to refine his belt work and sharpen his finishing ability, he has a viable path forward as a technical grinder capable of carving out a role in the division and earning many fans along the way as a “giant killer”. While he did not inherit a shikona, like Asahifuji, his shikona is a combination of the Isegahama ~fuji suffix and the kanji for good fortune/happiness, which we can infer that is something that is hoped for in his professional career.
Kaida (甲斐田)
Stable: Kasugano
Age: 18
Height (cm/feet-inches): 191 / 6’3”
Weight (kg/lbs): 150 / 330
Home prefecture: Tōkyō
High School: Adachi Shinden High School
University: —
Career Record and notes: 11-3 (.786)
Debut: 2026 Haru, Sandanme Tsukedashi
Notes: None
Possibility of reaching sekitori: Likely
Kaida follows the more traditional path into professional sumo, one rooted in early exposure, structured development, and steady accumulation of amateur results. Born in Ōita Prefecture in 2007, he is a second‑generation rikishi, with his father having competed briefly out of Kasugano stable and serving as a tsukebito to current Kasugano Oyakata . While his father’s career topped out in jonidan, it provided Kaida with something arguably more valuable than rank – that is an early familiarity with stable life, its training routines, and the expectations of professional rikishi. That foundation is often difficult to quantify, but it tends to show in the small details. Aside from the family ties to Kasugano, he was scouted by Kiyomigata Oyakata (former Sekiwake Tochiōzan).
Unlike late converts or crossover athletes, Kaida began sumo early in elementary school and progressed in a textbook fashion. By the time he reached Adachi Shinden High School, he was already smoothly operating within a competitive environment. His high school development was steady rather than meteoric, but his final year results marked a clear breakthrough. He finished in third-place at the Inter‑High School Championships and secured a runner‑up performance at the National Sports Festival. This earned him a sandanme tsukedashi status (only the third as I count for high schoolers, following Anhibiki (who rejected it) and Ikarigata). This allowed Kaida to bypass the lowest professional divisions and enter sumo with immediate expectations.
That starting point is significant. Tsukedashi entrants are not just fast-tracked, they are implicitly expected to justify their ranking from the outset. In Kaida’s case, early results suggest that his amateur success was no fluke. He secured winning records right away, indicating that his fundamentals translate effectively against professional opposition. His sumo reflects that background: straightforward and balanced. He is comfortable both pushing and grappling.
Looking ahead, Kaida projects as a steady riser. The combination amateur success and technically complete sumo suggests a wrestler with a higher ceiling, even if it remains to be defined. Makushita will present a more demanding test, but the early indications are that he will not be easily taken out of the ring. Still, he may not overwhelm the division in the way some elite prospects do, and could settle into this division for a few years before breaking out.
Agōra handled his makushita debut about as well as could reasonably be expected given his background and late start. He secured enough wins to remain competitive without ever looking overmatched. There were clear limitations in speed and adaptability against sharper technicians, He will need more experience to hold his own against makushita level opponents, something he will gain via a drop back to Sandanme for Natsu 2026. He defeated fellow rookie Yabugasaki, but lost to Gōhakuun.
Okada’s first makushita appearance was uneven but informative.His style produced early momentum in some matches, particularly when he was able to dictate terms at the tachiai, but more experienced opponents exposed his relative lack of polish once initial attacks stalled. He managed to defeat the Shikoroyama-beya prospect Tenrōsei, and fellow rookie Yabugasaki. He can expect a small jump up the banzuke.
After three straight kachi‑koshi earned his promotion, Gōhakuun just snuck in to Makushita at the bottom rank (60 West). He finished with a losing record and will be back in Sandanme for Natsu. His first victory was a fusen, and even with that he started 1-3. He managed a small comeback, defeating two in a row (including Agōra) before losing to Fudōhō in is last bout., The slide back should provide another opportunity to rebuild momentum.
Yabugasaki finished 2-5, with losses to Okada and Agōra. He also was unable to defeat Tenrōsei. It appeared that he was not yet able to match the speed and strength of his opponents or control his bouts consistently.
I am taking a small time-out here, as there were some questions raised as to why I did not really rank Yabugasaki as a sekitori prospect, despite his rapid ascent up the rankings. There were questions as to how I decided to lump in his chances with those of Okada. Let’s just say that there is little statistical underlying my assessments. It is more of a feeling of how I think each wrestler will progress given the bouts that I have seen and their pedigree.
In this case, Yabugasaki is not a “cream of the crop” high school talent. Many of these high schoolers who are not in the elite tend to peak in mid-to upper makushita unless they make some serious changes. In the matches I saw earlier in his career, he just did not have the “special something” that I see in some real talents. I am happy to be proven wrong. Please remember that my grading style is more of an art form than a science (and I have no official border lines between my subjective judgement calls) and that lots can happen in sumo to alter the trajectory of a career. Anyway, back to Sandanme with Yabugasaki for Natsu.
Ryūhō had a higher debut and started with a 4-0 streak before finishing 5-2. His makushita debut further reinforced his status as one of the sport’s elite young prospects. He carried over the maturity and balance that defined his lower‑division run, dispatching experienced opponents with calm grip work and disciplined ring sense. He lost to Sandanme champ (and former sekitori) Nabatame and former Sandanme champ Daimasakari. However, he defeated some high-school prospects (Fujinoyama and Anōshō) as well as former sekitori Kaishō. Unlike the others on this list, he competed quite consistently and convincingly in Makushita and will be in the top half of the division in Natsu. Among this group, he emerged as the clearest near‑term sekitori candidate.
Kinoshita, who received the shikona of Fudōhō (不動豊) got his winning record on the last day against Gōhakuun. He had a bit more trouble against the borderline Makushita/Sandanme wrestlers than would normally be expected of a Makushita Tsukedashi with such a university pedigree His bouts did not show that he was overly ranked, but with wins and losses against opponents of a similar depth, I can say that it was a bit of a disappointing debut. A jump toward the top of makushita will happen as he gains professional seasoning. His shikona was given my his master, intended to convey an “unshakable heart” and with the 豊 coming from the stable’s naming convention. The Fudō is “immovable” or steadfast and is often associated with a symbolizing Buddhist resolve and discipline.
Onto the Natsu 2026 Makushita rookies (and a bonus catch-up):
Kōseiryū (光星竜)
Stable: Otowayama Age: 25 Height (cm/feet-inches): 174 / 5’8” Weight (kg/lbs): 125 / 275 Home prefecture: Tokyo High School: Yasuda Gakuen University: University of Nevada Career Record and notes: 29-8-5 (.784) Debut: Hatsu 2025 Notes: Jonidan Yūshō in January 2026 Father is former Maegashira Akinoshū Possibility of reaching sekitori: I’ll say likely, as it would make a great story.
Kōseiryū has a rather unconventional background and atypical pathway into professional sumo. He is the eldest son of former top-division wrestler Akinoshū (安芸ノ州). However, sumo was not at the forefront of his activities for much of his life. Instead, he excelled in jūdō and his studies, going so far as to get a degree in aerospace engineering in Nevada. In other words, he seemed closer to being a rocket scientist than a master of the dōhyō.
Apparently, he was greatly cherished by his father’s senior stablemate Terao, who was so delighted at Kōsei’s birth that he named him, and even celebrated it as if he were his own child. Despite growing up in the sumo world, he took his competitiveness onto the jūdō mat and became known on the national level – placing third in the National Junior Championships while in 4th grade (only losing to a future Olympic silver medalist). He excelled during his time at Yasuda Gakuen Middle and High School (the alma mater of Terao). He moved to the US and managed to balance his engineering studies.
He first enrolled at Orange Coast College, a community college in Costa Mesa, California where he studied aerospace engineering, served as the president of the Japanese Student Association. In 2022, he won the National Collegiate Judo Championship and the U.S. Open Judo Championships. After graduating from Orange Coast College, he transferred to the University of Nevada to complete his aerospace engineering degree. His goal was to work in rocket manufacturing. He was invited to join the U.S. national judo team, but he declined because it would have required changing his nationality.
The turning point for him came in 2023 when former Sekiwake Terao passed away. Terao had been a great friend of his father, and supposedly helped to even name the newborn Kōsei.. Before his death, Terao supposedly said “I wish I could have seen you in a mawashi” and those words weighed heavily on Kōseiryū as he approached the sumo entrance age limit. He dipped his toes into sumo during the 2024 U.S. Sumo Open, where he finished second in the light heavyweight division.
As the Sumo Association had just allowed inexperienced individuals under 25 to join (after taking a special physical ability test), he quit the US Judo circuit and joined the new Otowayama stable under Kakuryū. Kakuryū belonged to Izutsu stable, the same as Terao and his father. He took the shikona Kōseiryū as a way to honor Terao (by using his given name) and combining it with the dragon (ryū) from his stablemaster. His younger brother attends Chuo University where he is a member of the school’s sumo club.
He describes his sumo as an application of his physics education – applying leverage, balance, center of gravity, and timing to compensate for his lack of traditional sumo training. He favors jūdō-like throws and counters. Following an injury that knocked him back to jonidan, he took the yūshō (despite cracking the middle finger on his left hand on Day 1) and rocketed up the rankings. His promotion to makushita will mark a great test of his abilities against some seasoned vets and upcoming prospects. His hobbies include surfing, golf, baseball, stargazing, building LEGO Star Wars sets, watching comedy, and appreciating art.
Kasshō (滑翔)
Stable: Yamahibiki Age: 23 Height (cm/feet-inches): 176 / 5’9” Weight (kg/lbs): 136 / 300 Home country: Hyōgō High School: Tsushima High University: — Career Record and notes: 110-87-13 (.558) Debut: 2021 Haru Notes: None Possibility of reaching sekitori: Very unlikely
Another name to watch as he settles into the makushita ranks is Kasshō, a Hyōgo native whose rise has been closely followed back home. Hailing from Shinonsen Town (Hamasaka area), Kasshō is celebrated locally as part of a rare trio of active professional rikishi produced by the same small community, alongside Gōhakuun of Takekuma stable (see last post about shin-makushita for Haru 2026) and Daishōki of Oitekaze.
Kasshō’s sumo roots were planted at Hamasaka Junior High School, where he was already active in the sport before moving on to Tsushima High School, a program known for steady national‑level participation. He became a key member of the sumo team, performing well enough in inter‑high and national tournaments to get on the radar of professional scouts. Sumo is very much a family affair as well – his younger sisters (one a university sophomore and the other a high‑school freshman) are both active members of their respective school sumo clubs.
His sumo career came full circle during a spring jungyō two years ago, when Kasshō returned to his old high school while touring as a professional. For a wrestler still early in his career, the visit symbolized both how far he had already come. He started his career with some very good results in 2021-2022, despite missing two tournaments with injury. He was in Sandanme in less than two years from his debut. It took some time for him to settle into the division, where he had been since Haru 2024. He finally settled into the top half of the division in mid-2025 and on the back of two 5-2 records will enter Makushita.
His shikona means to glide (if you look at it on Google, you will see lots of images of hang-gliding). It could also be interpreted as “moving smoothly and effortlessly” and was likely given to him by his stable master as a sort of objective. Additionally, the shikona uses a part of his first name, Hishō.
Honoikazuchi (火雷)
Stable: Ikazuchi Age: 22 Height (cm/feet-inches): 191 / 6’3” Weight (kg/lbs): 166 / 365 Home prefecture: Kanagawa High School: Mukainooka Technical High University: Nippon Sports Science University Career Record and notes: 0-0-0 (.000) Debut: 2026 Natsu, Makushita Tsukedashi Notes: None
Possibility of reaching sekitori: Quite likely
One of the more intriguing new faces to reach makushita is Bill Christopher Lee, a Kawasaki native whose development reflects both a long athletic arc. Growing up, Lee split his time between basketball and karate before committing to sumo at the Kawasaki Sumo Club during elementary school. By high school, his physical gifts were already evident: standing 191 cm, he attended Kanagawa Prefectural Mukonooka Technical High School, a program with deep sumo credentials (and lots of recruits in Futagoyama stable). He helped the team to a third‑place finish at the Inter‑High, putting him as a top level university recruit.
Lee’s true breakthrough came after being recruited to Nippon Sport Science University (NSSU), where the club’s legendary director helped him to use his raw power and develop his own style. Despite his size, Lee was intentionally steered away from reactive or tentative sumo and instead drilled relentlessly in forward‑moving oshi‑sumo, a transformation that paid dividends. By his sophomore year, he finished third at the All Japan Student Sumo Championships, and as a senior he emerged as the team’s captain.
His senior year at NSSU capped his amateur career. Lee finished runner‑up at the National Sports Festival and added another strong finish (3rd place) at the All‑Japan Student Championships. These performances earned him the makushita tsukedashi eligibility. Long an admirer of former NSSU sumo club legend, Ōnosato, Lee has noted that his goal has evolved from simply looking up to the yokozuna to one day testing himself directly against him. Lee enters makushita as a physically imposing, purpose‑built prospect whose ceiling will be measured by how quickly that forward pressure translates against seasoned professional opposition. On April 17, it was announced that his shikona is Honoikazuchi (火雷), with the latter character coming from the stable name.
Despite his English sounding legal name (a result of his mixed heritage), he was born and raised in Japan and will not count as a foreign rikishi. Ikazuchi-beya already has its foreigner slot occupied by the Ukrainain, Shishi.
Ōmori (大森)
Stable: Oitekaze Age: 22 Height (cm/feet-inches): 185 / 6’0” Weight (kg/lbs): 120 / 264 Home prefecture: Ishikawa High School: Kanazawa Gakuin High University: Kanazawa Gakuin University Career Record and notes: 0-0-0 (.000) Debut: 2026 Natsu, Makushita Tsukedashi Notes: ..
Possibility of reaching sekitori: Quite likely
Ōmori enters grand sumo with a Strong amateur background. From Ishikawa prefecture, he began sumo in the first grade inspired by watching the legendary Chiyonofuji with his father. He continued with sumo through elementary school, but then quit during middle school to join the baseball club.
At the end of middle school, he resolved to return to sumo and “become strong”. He left his hometown to live in the dorm at Kanazawa Gakuin High School. By the time he was a junior, he had become a national level contender in tournaments, finishing as runner-up in both individual and team competitions at the Inter-High High School Championships and the Kanazawa High School Sumo Tournament. He proceeded up the direct pipeline from the attached high school to Kanazawa Gakuin University.
As a freshman, he won the West Japan Rookie title. As a Junior, he won the individual and team championships at the 78th National Sports Festival in Saga. Suffering from a dislocated shoulder as a senior (one that required surgery), he was still 2nd at the All-Japan Sumo Championships. This earned him the coveted makushita tsukedashi status he now takes advantage of.
He is quite lighter than many others coming in via the tsukedashi route, with his sumo built on speed, balance, and forward pressure. His technical grounding and versatility should enable him to make an immediate impact on the dohyo. He was persuaded to go professional though his hometown ties to Kitajin Oyakata (former Endō) and has expressed a desire to represent his earthquake-impacted hometown on the national stage. Like Kaki, he is likely an uchi-deshi of Endō and may branch out, should Kitajin decide to open his own stable. There has not yet been any media reporting of a proper shikona and my feeling is that he will start under his family name.
Gōnoshō (豪ノ勝)
Stable: Takekuma Age: 20 Height (cm/feet-inches): 189 / 6’2” Weight (kg/lbs): 144 / 318 Home prefecture: Saitama High School: Saitama Sakae High School University: – – Career Record and notes: 36-20-0 (.643) Debut: 2024 Kyushu Notes: Brother is Gōseiryū
Possibility of reaching sekitori: Unlikely
Gōnoshō is a steadily developing rikishi from Aomori prefecture, who has followed his elder brother, Gōseiryū, into sumo. He began sumo at age four, influenced by his older brother. He continued through school, appearing in elementary, middle, and high school All-Japan tournaments.
He attended powerhouse Saitama Sakae High School (which is the fishing grounds for former alumn Takekuma Oyakata). Under his high school coach, he developed a technically grounded style that heled his team win the Kantō High School Championship and qualify the team for the Inter-High. Individually, he finished in the top eight at the All-Japan High School Tournament and the top 16 at the National Sports Festival (Kokutai). This reveals that he is a competitive prospect, but not quite the level of a breakout star.
Many college recruits tried to lure him to their programs, including NSSU and Nihon University. Nevertheless, he opted to become pro right after high school on advice from his father that he would develop quicker and more rounded through regular professional keiko rather than amateur competition. He selected Takakuma stable, to join his brother. He had also been impressed by Takekuma’s training regime during his visits.
He has made steady progress through the lower divisions. He made it to mid-Sandanme before his first make-koshi. His 6-1 record in March from Sandanme 44 was a nice breakout tournament that earned the promotion to Makushita. At this point in his career, Gōnoshō is a clear yotsu‑zumo specialist, favoring belt engagement over extended pushing exchanges. He shows a preference for a right‑hand inside grip and forward‑moving sumo, with yorikiri as his most common winning technique. Gōnoshō already possesses the size expected of a future sekitori, but his career profile to this point suggests a longer‑horizon development path rather than an immediate rise. His Shikona from oyakata, his first name, and 豪ノ勝 literally means “mighty victory” or “victory through strength.”
Tatsubayama (龍葉山)
Stable: Tokitsukaze Age: 20 Height (cm/feet-inches): 189 / 6’2” Weight (kg/lbs): 153 / 336 Home prefecture: Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia High School: Meitoku Gijuku High School University: — Career Record: 23-3-2 (.885) Debut: Natsu 2025 Notes: Jonokuchi Yūshō Nagoya 2025
Possibility of reaching sekitori: I believe so, from what I have seen so far – provided injuries do not derail him
Born in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, as Buyantogtokh Munkh‑Erdene, Tatsubayama began athletic training in Mongolian wrestling (Bökh) as a child. That background provided a natural foundation for his eventual transition to Japanese sumo. Tatusbayama was scouted at age 15 and moved to Japan to attend Meitoku Gijuku High School, one of the strongest amateur sumo programs in the country and famously the alma mater of Yokozuna Asashōryū. He became a regular presence on the national stage. During his high‑school career, he appeared in major tournaments, steadily building experience against elite domestic competition.
In his third year (2024), he served as a key pillar of the team, helping his high school team to secure a top‑eight finish in the team competition at the Inter‑High School Championships. Individually, he reached the later rounds of several major national events, including the National High School Sumo Invitational Tournament in Umi and the Kanazawa High School Sumo Tournament, and represented Kochi Prefecture at the National Sports Festival (Kokutai), advancing into the final stages of the individual competition. At the Inter‑High School Sumo Championships, he reached the quarterfinals, finishing one win short of qualifying for sandanme tsukedashi.
Tatsubayama was recruited into Tokitsukaze stable by Tokitsukaze oyakata (former maegashira Tosayutaka) and, with special permission, he began training at the stable while still completing his high school studies, to help him transition into professional life. Although initially cleared to debut in May 2025, his professional start was delayed by an early setback: in January 2025, he underwent surgery to address a recurring dislocation of his right shoulder, postponing his entry into ozumō until the 2025 Nagoya basho.
He was given the shikona “Tatsubayama”, a name explicitly designed as a tribute to two of the sport’s greatest figures. The “Tatsu (dragon)” (龍) is taken from Asashōryū, his high‑school senior at Meitoku Gijuku, while “bayama” (葉山) comes from Futabayama, the legendary 35th yokozuna and founder of his Tokitsukaze stable.
In his first official tournament in September 2025, he went 7–0 to claim the jonokuchi yūshō, displaying composure and physical dominance despite recently recovering from surgery. In the November 2025 tournament, he was 6-0 and ready to go into the final bout to force at least a playoff (if not take the championship outright) but was forced to withdraw after contracting cellulitis, which required eight days of hospitalization and resulted in a loss of roughly 10 kilograms.
Still only 20 years old, Tatsubayama profiles with a high ceiling. He is a technique‑reliable prospect whose amateur pedigree, physical readiness, and early professional results point toward an easy transition to makushita in the near term. The key question ahead is not whether he belongs above sandanme, but whether his deliberate, grip‑centric style can continue to hold up against heavier, more tactically disruptive opponents as the margin for error narrows.
Takahara (髙𠩤)
Stable: Futagoyama Age: 19 Height (cm/feet-inches): 173 / 5’8” Weight (kg/lbs): 116 / 254 Home prefecture: Kanagawa High School: Asahigaoka High School University: — Career Record and notes: 22-6 (.786) Debut: Nagoya 2025 Notes: —
So much optimism this time – as I think its likely!
Takahara is a Kanagawa‑born prospect whose profile blends long‑term competitive sumo training with explosive athleticism and an unusually strong mental drive. Takahara began practicing sumo in elementary school, starting in the 5th grade. Takahara attended Odawara Municipal Izumi Junior High School, where his development accelerated. He achieved an individual third place result in a regional tournament and helped his middle school team qualify for the national middle‑school championships, a first for his school. They finished in the top 32 nationally.
In parallel with sumo, Takahara pursued full‑contact karate at Sōtenjuku. His results were very impressive as he was a national runner‑up in 2020 and won a national championship in 2021. His dual‑sport background is widely credited with contributing to his explosive tachiai, body control, and speed. These are all traits that distinguish him from more orthodox amateur sumo prospects.
Takahara continued his sumo career at Shinmei Gakuen Asahigaoka High School, one of the stronger sumo programs (that of prospect Asahifuji). His high‑school achievements include winning the Kanagawa Prefectural Inter‑High qualifier in the open‑weight division and advancing to the top 32 nationally at the 2024 Inter‑High School Championships. As a sophomore, he won the Kantō Select Tournament and in 2024 he won the Kanagawa Prefecture individual open‑weight title. His sumo club coach provided good direction, technical instruction, and connections to the professional world. Takahara entered the “Mita connection”, a loose but influential pipeline of wrestlers developed under the guidance of the father of Mita (Futagoyama-beya). Mita’s father is a respected figure in amateur sumo training and one who has been influential in channeling his pupils to Futagoyama‑beya. Recruitment came directly and personally, as Futagoyama Oyakata visited Takahara’s school after being impressed. He joined Futagoyama stable immediately after high school despite suffering a significant setback: a shoulder surgery during his last year of high school.
Inside the stable, Takahara has quickly developed a reputation for intensity. He is frequently featured in Futagoyama‑beya’s YouTube channel, where he stands out for his go‑getter attitude, willingness to push himself during training, and visible competitiveness. Despite saying he is naturally shy, those around him note a clear “switch” that flips during training, marked by heightened focus, aggression, and decisiveness. He has also spoken openly about his admiration for senior stablemate Nabatame. His victories in mae-zumo against Tatsubayama (see above) and Nishimura (Ryūhō, see last entry) solidified him as a prospect among keen sumo watchers like Kintamayama – who automatically added him to the coveted “lover division celebs” list. His long‑term objective is explicit and ambitious: to reach sekitori status by the age of 20, a goal he has stated publicly and framed as a personal benchmark.
Takahara is a high‑energy, high‑intent prospect whose ceiling will depend on how effectively his athleticism can be integrated into the more punishing, tactically complex environment of Makushita. He represents one of Futagoyama stable’s most intriguing prospects.His shikona is currently his family name, but he uses kanji variants for both the Taka (like Takayasu) and the Hara characters.
Ōkaryū (大花竜)
Stable: Tatsunami Age: 24 Height (cm/feet-inches): 178 / 5’9” Weight (kg/lbs): 159 / 31349 Home prefecture: Aomori High School: Sanbongi Agricultural High University: Kinki University Career Record and notes: 57-27-0 (.679) Debut: Natsu 2024: Sandanme Tsukedashi Notes: —
Possibility of reaching sekitori: 100%
I should miss a few of these entries more often. I was too busy with work to make the Kyushu 2024 update of this series and missed two “future” sekitori – both Toshinofuji (see last entry) and Ōkaryū. Maybe skipping these posts is good luck for new makushita aiming for the salaried ranks?
Ōkaryū’s rise to sekitori status has been built on elite amateur credentials, physical density, and a notably efficient transition from student sumo to the professional ranks. He comes from a deep sumo lineage. Like both his grandfather and father, he is an alumnus of the Sanbongi Agricultural High School Sumo Club, one of Aomori’s most productive amateur pipelines. He distinguished himself early at the national level: as a freshman, he placed third at the National Selection Hirosaki Tournament; as a sophomore, he reached the top eight at both the National Selection Towada Tournament and the National Sports Festival (Kokutai); and in his junior year, he placed third in the All‑Japan Weight‑Class Junior Heavyweight Division (100 kg+), and again reached the top eight at the Towada national selection event.
After graduating high school, Ōkaryū enrolled at Kinki University (Kindai). His breakthrough came in his third university year, when he captured the National Student Individual Weight‑Class Championship in the 135 kg+ division, defeating Ōnosato of Nippon Sport Science University (who was already amateur Yokozuna) in the final. This victory was Ōkaryū’s first national individual title and established him as one of the leading heavyweights in university sumo. As a senior, he served as vice‑captain of the Kindai team that won the National Student Sumo Championship, ending a prolonged team title drought for the school. Individually, he advanced to the round of 16 at the National Sports Festival (Kokutai), a result that secured him sandanme tsukedashi eligibility. Over the course of his university career, he accumulated four major amateur titles. Through ties that included junior teammate Kiryūkō at Sanbongi High, he elected to join Tatsunami stable upon graduation.
On his professional debut as a Sandanme tsukedashi in May 2024, he took the shikona Ōkaryū (大花竜). The meaning of his shikona blends family symbolism with ambition. The character “花” (flower) was chosen deliberately, as it appears in the names of both of his sisters, while “竜” (dragon) reflects the aspiration to rise powerfully and continuously. At his first professional bout, the name was repeatedly misread aloud as “Daikaryū”. In his debut, he finished 6-1, with his only loss coming to Kyokukaiyū.
Technically, Ōkaryū is a fundamentals‑heavy yotsu specialist. His most frequent winning technique is yorikiri, though he is equally comfortable finishing with oshidashi or capitalizing on overextensions via hatakikomi. His sumo is built around absorption and control rather than speed, a style that has translated particularly well as the quality of opposition has risen.
