Ichinojo Retires

Andy Ichinojo (逸ノ城), Retirement ,

I certainly couldn’t let this go by with just a passing sentence in an unrelated post. But yesterday’s news was such a shock and there was little on details.

It is official, Ichinojo has retired. The Mongolian Monster was beloved for his love of ice cream. Much light was made of his rural upbringing and jokes of tossing ponies around. However, his back pain proved too much to bear and he is walking away from the sport, even after consulting with his stablemaster and parents.

His relationship with Minato-oyakata had been strained over the past year, with much coming to light just after he had won his top division title. There have been concerns for his health and welfare but it had looked like he might be able to put that recent drama aside. He had just won the Juryo yusho, reclaiming his spot in Makuuchi after losing it to his one basho suspension. But it appears that he has been unable to train or compete and in a considerable amount of pain, so he could not be talked out of this path.

He has Japanese citizenship but does not have a kabu (stock) so he will not be staying on in the Kyokai as an oyakata. We at Tachiai wish him well in his future endeavors and will hopefully be able to keep track of whatever career path he decides to follow.

Two Ozeki. What of it?

Andy Ichinojo (逸ノ城), promotion, Retirement, Takakeishō (貴景勝), Terunofuji (照ノ富士) , ,

Terunofuji and Takakeisho are both coming off injury but expected to compete. Takakeisho’s kadoban status, though, means that his rank is officially on the line. Recent news of the slow progress of his recovery is starting to trickle out. This is making people nervous because if Takakeisho cannot win eight bouts, he will be demoted. We’re a little more than a week out and he’s doing sumo stomps and contact-free shuffling.

As for the Yokozuna, the hardware that’s usually adorning Terunofuji’s knees means that his status at the top of the banzuke is always a precarious one. As Yokozuna, he won’t need to have a kabu upon retirement, like Kakuryu. He has had more promising news as he participated in the massive sekitori cluster keiko at Tokitsukaze. But, a 15-day honbasho after a six month break? There will be no let up. The guys on his fight card want kinboshi and/or advancement. If Terunofuji is unable to compete at this level, talk of retirement might turn into reality of retirement. But, we really need two Ozeki!

From the kitchen, Nick Stellino pipes in: “Why?”

Great question, Nick, I’m glad you asked. Custom says we do, and that if we’re short, we use a reigning Yokozuna to fill in. Let’s take a look at this thing called the banzuke. The banzuke is the ranking sheet which lists wrestlers competing in a honbasho. Gyoji hand-write the characters on versions, like this wooden one that Josh saw in Osaka. They do so in a stylized calligraphy with larger sized text for those wrestlers of higher ranks, like Yokozuna and Ozeki, getting smaller and smaller as you go down the list.

Terunofuji has been listed in this curious Yokozuna-Ozeki category for several tournaments now. Before that, Kakuryu was Yokozuna-Ozeki back in March 2020. Again, Takakeisho was the lone Ozeki at the time, just before Asanoyama was promoted. Since then we have lost a number of Ozeki due to demotion, including Asanoyama, Shodai, and Mitakeumi.

But does this “Yokozuna-Ozeki” ranking somehow demote Kakuryu or Terunofuji on any of these banzuke or diminish their standing? No. Other Yokozuna have held this quirky little rank at times of Ozeki-scarcity: Chiyonofuji, Kitanoumi, etc. The issue here is that if Takakeisho loses his rank or if Terunofuji retires, there’s no Yokozuna to fill-in. If both happens, there’s no one. We had a “No-zeki” situation before, with Chiyonofuji’s promotion. But with three yokozuna, we had two Yokozuna-Ozeki. So, if this eventuality does come to pass where we don’t have enough coverage in the top ranks, what will happen?

Do not fret. There will not be a sumo-apocalypse, though I am rather curious about what would happen. The Kyokai has options available. Let’s see what they are.

Option 1: Business as usual

They can buck tradition and go with Sekiwake at the top of one side of the banzuke (or both, for that matter). All of that written about the custom and tradition would need a bit of an update, or an asterisk, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. This sport has necessarily evolved over time, and will continue to do so. Tassels instead of posts at the corners of the dohyo, VAR booth and quality better than any football association, and “get your damn hands down!”…just to name a few of the more prominent changes. “Ozeki? Ozeki? We don’t need no stinking Ozeki.”

But then, I have questions. If the two Ozeki thing really is no big deal, (NBD as the kids say), what was the whole point of the Yokozuna-Ozeki? More than banzuke aesthetics, there was a reason for it, no? I had presumed the origins were to in the yin-yang style balance, or to formalize an ideal senshuraku match-up between the Champion on the East vs the Champion on the West. But that’s presumption. We know reality often doesn’t work out like that but from a PR and marketing perspective, it’s a great highlight.

I’m also a bit curious about the practicality, starting with the dohyo matsuri. Sanyaku wrestlers traditionally take part in this ceremony before honbasho but obviously aren’t in attendance at the ceremony when held at heya without sanyaku wrestlers. Does the presence/absence of fewer than two Ozeki matter in this ceremony, or others? It wouldn’t necessarily change anything about the makuuchi dohyo-iri, or sanyaku-soroibumi but there are other obligations of Yokozuna and Ozeki. On the banzuke, would Sekiwake be written at the usual size for Sekiwake, or will they write it in a large, Ozeki-sized font? There might be some deeper implications but these are admittedly minor quibbles and questions. If the Kyokai goes this way, they go this way.

Option 2: Early Promotion

Presumably, the Kyokai can summarily promote anyone they want to the rank of Ozeki. Hell, why not just keep Takakeisho at Ozeki until another earns the rank? I mean why demote someone under the old rules while promoting someone else according to new (emergency) rules. Here, my sense of fair play just gets all in a twist. Yes, Mitakeumi and Shodai rather under-performed once they got there — but they earned their promotions. (Curiously, Mitakeumi is not on the Kyokai’s list of Ozeki.)

If the next Ozeki is promoted to anything less than the previous standard, that’s a crying shame. It would also contravene the criteria stated on the Kyokai website, and likely stick in the craw of many a wrestler and fan. Past wrestlers whose Ozeki runs came up just shy would have right to be bitter…as would their supporters.

“Why?”

Oh, Nick, you startled me. You’re still here?

Where was I? Yes, Getting back to the Ozeki promotion…it’s is more than just ephemeral status, it has financial implications and real benefits and obligations — not just the weight of the office. This path of early promotion, though, comes along with the increased likelihood of yet another poor Ozeki reign and rapid demotion. Kotokaze was the solution to the Chiyonofuji/Hokutoumi situation above. He won that tournament at Sekiwake, with a 12-win yusho, and was promoted after 31 wins. He did go on to have a decent stretch at Ozeki. His reign was 5.5 Mitakeumis long. With the current crop of Sekiwake, this might be a very tempting option.

We apologize for the lame gag but Nick Stellino is living, rent-free, in the author’s head. Whenever he thinks, “why?” it’s somehow in Nick Stellino’s voice. We think the author needs therapy, or at least a weekend away from cooking shows.

Option 3: A Rose by Another Name

The Kyokai could also use competition to find the next Ozeki, which could take many forms but I will suggest the most legitimate form here. In May 2011, the Kyokai held a full, 15-day tournament but didn’t call it a hon-basho. As Asashosakari correctly pointed out in the comments of my previous post, that tournament was the first tournament of Kotoshogiku’s Ozeki run (although he did have 11 wins in Jan 2011). The results counted. Kotoshogiku secured his 33-win tournament.

So, Nagoya would go on as planned, everything counts, it’s just not a hon-basho. There’s no law requiring six hon-basho each year, as we learned during COVID. Before 1958, there wasn’t a Nagoya honbasho on the calendar. The issue with this is clear, though. It doesn’t necessarily result in a successful Ozeki promotion, bringing us back to where we started. Although, they could just hold another…and another…and another…until someone is Ozeki. Nothing changes, except the name. However, Asashosakari is right, it could lose its luster and be more sparsely attended if it’s not a “hon-basho” but I discount this since the results will still count. There is no scandal here, just a name change due to a technicality. But yes, it would be, “different.” I just think that difference will be more palatable than a “lesser” Ozeki.

Option 4: Go Completely Off Script

The Kyokai does hold other tournaments, not just honbasho. Often these are one- or two-day affairs during Jungyo. In February, though, there is the FujiTV Tournament. It’s an elimination-style tournament with a decent purse for the winner. The Kyokai could hold a similar competition, possibly just among the sanyaku, with Ozeki rank at the end. Since the result would be an out-of-the-ordinary run, there would understandably be a mental asterisk for whoever earned their promotion through such unconventional means but it would be more legitimate than Option 2. So long as the competition is more rigorous than rock-paper-scissors, there would certainly be some legitimacy on the outcome.

Wrapping Things Up

For those who fret about tradition and the future of sumo — well, there is not really a lot to fret about. Sumo will continue if we have fewer than two Ozeki; the situation is more of a curiosity than anything else. It’s not an existential issue, as in the Kyokai’s mandate as Guardian of Grand Sumo will not end. If it’s even a problem at all, there are workable solutions, no matter how rigid the “two Ozeki rule” actually is. I favor whatever method instills the most legitimacy on those wrestlers who hold the rank of Ozeki. Hopefully, it will be a moot point as this tournament ends in a blockbuster title race between Terunofuji and Takakeisho, and at least one solid Ozeki promotion.

Oh, and Ichinojo will retire. Sorry, that one snuck up on me, too. Apparently his back isn’t up to the competition, despite his recent treatment. We’ll have more on that as news is available. Quite the shock.

May 2023 Banzuke Released

Andy Natsu Basho 2023 ,

The Japanese Sumo Association released the ranking sheet for the upcoming May tournament (English/Japanese). We already knew the lone Yokozuna would be Terunofuji and the lone Ozeki is Takakeisho. Banzuke-makers have likely been sweating bullets over the past few months over this situation — but with Takakeisho kadoban and Terunofuji nearing retirement, both men returning from injury, this could be a make-or-break tournament for the next crop of Ozeki. As such, there will be four wrestlers at the rank of Sekiwake, in various stages of Ozeki runs.

Kiribayama will lead this class of Sekiwake as Sekiwake 1 East. He’s also on the strongest Ozeki run after his 12-win title in March and runner-up, 11-win tournament in January. A solid, 10-win tournament will probably be enough for promotion. Joining Kiribayama from the West side will be Hoshoryu. Hoshoryu’s good performance in Osaka is undercut by his 8-wins in the prior tournament, so he’s starting from scratch. Therefore, next in line for the promotion runs would probably be Daieisho, from Sekiwake 2 East. Ten wins from Maegashira 1 might be sufficient if he can mount a strong case this month. If he wins this tournament, there’s a strong case that he will be promoted. Lastly, Wakamotoharu has earned his highest rank, rounding things out at Sekiwake 2 West. Even he might have a case for promotion, depending on his performance here in May…but it would be a long-shot.

We have three Komusubi as Kotonowaka moves over to Komusubi 1 East, injured Wakatakakage shuffles down to Komusubi 1 West, and Shodai makes his return to sanyaku at Komusubi 2 East. Tobizaru glides down the banzuke a bit, from his perch at Komusubi in March, but remains in the joi at Maegashira 3 East. Abi shifts up one rank to head the Maegashira, opposite Midorifuji. Takayasu follows at Maegashira 2 East, opposing Endo on the West. Tobizaru’s opposite number at Maegashira 3 West will be Nishikifuji. Ura and Nishikigi fill in final joi ranks at Maegashira 4. Kinbozan leaps up to Maegashira 5 East, opposite Kotoshoho on the West. Both men will likely see considerable sanyaku action due to Wakatakakage’s injury and prohibited match-ups between the various Isegahama, Oitekaze, and Sadogatake heya-mates.

Further down the banzuke, Asanoyama makes his return to the top division after his long climb back. Ichinojo also rejoins the top division after his yusho. Bushozan and Azumaryu drop into Juryo. Down in Makushita, Shiden and Kawazoe occupy the prime real estate at the top of Makushita. They’ll be hoping for at least four wins and their right to join the salaried ranks.

Post your thoughts on the banzuke in the comments below. I’m eager to read your thoughts on who lucked out and who got the shaft.

The Updated Haru Basho Experience

Josh K Haru Basho 2023, Ura (宇良) , ,

I’ve long been open about the fact that I view the Osaka honbasho as one of the more definitive sumo experiences. While the hallowed ground of the Kokugikan in Ryogoku is the ultimate destination for any pilgrim seeking dosukoi action, the EDION Arena in Osaka in some ways showcases the most romantic elements of sumo. Or at least it did.

Before the pandemic, the Osaka tournament was notable for many things. Among them, the raucous nature of the Kansai match-going fanbase, and also the proximity of spectators to the rikishi as they emerge from the shitakubeya and make their way down the hanamichi to the side of the dohyo.

This last feature was also a staple of the year-end Kyushu basho in Fukuoka, but the EDION Arena’s layout had long been unique for the fact that souvenir shoppers in the hallways would likely end up intoxicated from the scent of binzuke as combatants of all shapes and sizes made their way to and from the arena throughout the day. It was not uncommon for fans to mix it with rikishi or even get handshakes, autographs or photos with sekitori at the business end of the torikumi.

And speaking of intoxication, before the edict to “cheer inside of your heart” went into place as a mitigating strategy in the fight against the spread of the coronavirus, you’d often find dyed-in-the-wool (or dyed-in-the-cotton-cheer-towel) supporters of a particular rikishi or heya screaming out messages of support or instruction to “GANBATTE!” for hours on end from the pacy schedule of Sandanme right through to the lengthy rituals leading up to a top division bout.

Before the basho, I remarked on these pages that I had some trepidation for what I might find. Osaka has always been my favourite basho. Maybe it lacks of a bit of depth compared to the three Tokyo tournaments in terms of the fan experience that you can find inside the venue itself. But the personality, feeling and emotion of the basho – never more showcased than when a Kansai native mounts the dohyo in front of a full house, lights and cameras – for me is more than worth the annual pilgrimage. I had ringed the first week of the tournament on the calendar ever since Japan announced its reopening to foreign visitors, and could not wait to reintroduce it as a staple of my travel calendar.

So, what did we find?

A bit of a mixed bag, truth be told, but it was mostly a return to the experience I knew and loved. Some elements were missing, while others improved on my past memories.

First let’s talk logistics. I flew directly into Osaka’s Kansai International Airport from elsewhere in Asia and this was the correct decision. Post-pandemic, Japan has had mixed reviews for the entry experience into the country. In some places it is easy, others convoluted, and some ports like Tokyo’s Narita have been plagued by hours-long queues. Entering the country at Kansai was a relatively smooth experience, amplified by an express train taking me to my hotel 2 blocks from the venue near Osaka’s Namba hub in the Naniwa district of the second city.

Tickets were procured through Tachiai’s partner BuySumoTickets.com. I’ve long been a user of their service and could not be happier with the seats or the special gift bags we received for our business. I had the tickets delivered directly to the hotel in Osaka on the day before my arrival, and after presenting my detailed delivery confirmation from Japan Post which BuySumoTickets provided, the front desk team was able to track down the envelope in the back room.

A word here about sumo tickets – they are the equivalent of cash, and can only be issued once, so coordination and attention to the package is key. A lot of first time visitors to a basho really seem to struggle with this. We’ve heard stories of people losing or failing to turn up with tickets, bringing their receipts and expecting to have it honoured by the Kyokai. They won’t. But once inside, they are very accommodating of foreign visitors and brought us directly to our box.

I went back and forth before the basho about whether to order the “Arena S” seats (hardback chairs with a removable cushion) or a 2 person masu-seki. I don’t find the boxes to normally be comfortable for a full day’s viewing, but the 2 person box is a great feature of Osaka’s venue. Most fans that I know don’t travel in groups of 4 and don’t have a need for the 4 person boxes which are most prevalent across the venues. While I was a little worried about the distance from the box to the dohyo, I shouldn’t have been. BuySumoTickets managed to secure an absolutely outstanding view from our seats.

One note about the layout of the EDION Arena is that unlike in Tokyo, which has the faux-cherry blossom lined chaya-michi alley where the various tea-houses supply luxury gift packages to tanimachi and other fans, the section of the EDION Arena housing the chaya’s booths is actually outside the main gate of the arena. Osaka tickets grant you one re-entry, so if you have ordered a lunch set or gift set and don’t pick it up on the way in, you will have to use your one re-entry in order to go out the front gate and retrieve it. After this, you won’t have any more exit and entry privileges.

Our gift sets came replete with a very generously portioned bento, a traditional dessert, program, various other souvenirs including sumo chocolates, and of course, the famous sumo yakitori. While I normally will want to sample food from the venue throughout the day, this package was simply so filling that there was no need to report on other options available within the venue. I can report however that the various gift shops were full with the usual omiyage gift boxes of sumo themed cookies and snacks, and yakitori, chips and drinks were available at points in the venue. Chankonabe did not however appear to be available in the venue, at least as far as I could tell.

The Arena’s hallways, so well-known for its previous ability to interact with rikishi, had been re-organised since the pandemic. Rikishi walkways to the hanamichi had now been fully segregated, with all of the previous shopping areas in the vicinity of the shitakubeya moved to other areas of the venue. This is obviously meant to limit casual interaction between rikishi and members of the general public, although it is still possible to linger outside the shitakubeya entrances from a distance. But there is no longer any casual engagement with sumotori that’s possible inside the venue. It’s possible that those wishing to engage with very low rankers could have more luck earlier in the day, but punters should be aware that there is a security presence in this area. You will, however, still see lower-rankers entering and leaving the venue throughout the day by the front entrance.

While rikishi are less-spotted, oyakata are still very much milling around and tending to their various duties. Once inside, the very first blue-jacketed-giant we came across was Tomozuna-oyakata, the recently retired Brazilian fan favourite Kaisei. He was happy to pose for photos with fans in the hallways. Word also travelled around the venue that former Sekiwake Okinoumi was performing fansa in an effort to drum up interest and ticket sales ahead of his forthcoming danpatsushiki, although I didn’t personally see him.

As I’ve said many times, Osaka’s atmosphere, for me, is unmatched. The crowd warmed up gradually throughout the day until eventually exploding into life late on. I can’t say it was exactly like the basho that I used to know, but you could see flashes of it here and there. It’s not sumo without a heavily drunken uncle veering between punching the air, slumping over half asleep or effing and blinding in reaction to the day’s events. Happily, the next box contained a local karaoke bar owner who was happy to oblige in all of these things and also engage in some spirited banter about which rikishi had been bad boys in recent years for their misadventures in the company of deep-pocketed sponsors or in gambling dens or with alcohol or ladies or all of the above. Some of the conjecture was too hot for TV, but you’ll just have to believe me.

I attended Day 3 of the basho, and its first week coincided with Japan’s loosening of mask restrictions. While mask observance was obviously still heavily prevalent throughout the venue (and Osaka and Tokyo generally), it was also clear that fans were starting to feel more comfortable eating, drinking, socialising and cheering in the public space. After a couple years of tournaments plagued by a lack of real fan engagement and cheering, where drinking beverages apart from water had been forbidden and thunderous winning moves were met with timid clapping, it was good to see the arena sparking back to life.

While the sumo continued on for several matches after, I think the highlight in terms of atmosphere will have been the match contested and won by Osaka native Ura. As I have said already, I felt in this basho that he rubber-stamped his position as heir-and-successor to Osaka’s Ikioi as local hero. While this may have felt obvious for sometime, it just isn’t right to see an exciting victory met by golf claps. The magic of Osaka is when the venue explodes into life as the flashbulbs pop from the side of the dohyo at a moment that fills the fans with pride for the performance of a native son. The sakura-tinted mawashi wearing man from Kise beta duly obliged to ensure no matter what else took place, the locals would be sent home happy.

All in all, it did not disappoint. It would be inaccurate to say that I felt the frisson that I used to before going to a basho. But I think that will come, perhaps whenever I am next able to visit the Kokugikan. I think more than anything the prevailing feeling was one of relief, of being able to return to something we used to know and love. Of feeling thankful to be back at sumo again.