Introduction

My personal love affair with Sumo began one summer in the late 90s while visiting my grandparents in Northern Kentucky. I grew up on a rural farm in Iowa and we didn’t have cable TV but my grandparents did. I probably spent more time watching TV at their house than I did spending time with them, something I regret, but in this case it turned out okay. At that time in the late 90s ESPN2 would broadcast Sumo with English Commentary and it was one such broadcast that caught the attention of a young farm boy from the sticks of Iowa. What I was unaware of at the time was that the dominant forces of Japanese Sumo were in fact Americans like me. 

In 1964 a young Hawaiian boy with weak knees and hips named Jesse Kuhaulua would make his debut in professional sumo. His presence would shine the first spotlight on American Sumo and he would become one of the sports biggest stars. His 1972 Yusho victory in Nagoya represented the first time a foreigner had risen to such heights in Japans national sport. The conditions were brutal and the life was hard but Jesse rose to the occasion. 

Young Jesse 

    A decade after his victory, another young Hawaiian with Samoan roots would come to Japan seemingly on a whim with nothing more than a T-shirt, sandals, lavalava and a duffle bag with a family album and his bible. A preachers kid, Konishiki was no stranger to tough love. He would rise higher than his senpai, Jesse, but in the end fall into a controversy that still haunts his legacy and begs us to ask “what if?”. The saying goes that Jesse climbed the stairs, Konishiki opened the door and Akebono and Musashimaru walked through. When Akebonos stable master said he may have made a mistake by taking on the tall gangly kid, Akebono tearfully called home. “Come home already” his mom begged. “No Mom,” he answered. “I’m not coming home. I’m going to prove them wrong” He did. Akebono would go on to secure his spot as the greatest of the Americans doing what Jesses and Konishiki failed to do, reach the rank of Yokozuna. Musashimaru would follow and also wear the white rope and end his career with 12 Yusho. 

    Thats where I come in to the story of Sumo. 

    I was wide eyed. I had never seen anything like it before, but I knew in an instant that I was hooked and Musashimaru was at the center of it. His huge frame and his incredible power was overwhelming and I found myself rooting hard for this man that I had no idea was an American like me. If the announcer mentioned it, I hadn’t remembered. I watched every day that I was at my grandparents and then I went home. For nearly 10 years I didn’t think much of sumo until one day in 2009, shortly after I was married, I happened to see a commercial on television and in the commercial, as a gag, was a sumo wrestler. I was instantly reminded of Musashimaru and the sumo I had watched all those years ago, sitting on my grandparents living room floor with a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of coca cola in my hand. A quick internet search revealed that I could actually follow sumo from afar. It wouldn’t be easy but it was doable. I began to read every wikipedia article that was available, anything I could find that would give me more insight, but very soon a thought occurred to me. I want to do this! I want to try sumo wrestling. 

The Author Wearing his First Homemade Mawashi

    

At 5’6, 140 pounds, I didn’t exactly strike a good sumo pose, but I was not to be deterred. I called a friend. “Hey, what are doing this Saturday? I want to try sumo.” He agreed. Our first practice was in the local park. We went off the beaten path as not to be seen by passersby. We wrestled and what happened wasn’t exactly sumo, but it was enough to make the blood course through my veins and my heart pound and my love for what I had only watched professionals do up to that point, swell beyond words. I was in love. From there I recruited others and we had a little sumo club for about a year and a half. In early 2012 I moved away from my home in Iowa and settled down in Kentucky and I was pretty sure my sumo days were over. I kept following the professionals of course and always reading and learning. As I approached my 30th birthday I decided that I was going to try getting back into it. I ordered my first real Mawashi with plans to train at home and go to a few tournaments. After a chance posting on facebook, within a year I found myself at the helm of one of the fastest growing sumo clubs in the US.

    As I sit here, it’s amazing to think about and I am truly humbled and grateful for the friends and mentors I have had and the direction this sport is heading. But in quiet moments when I’m outside looking out over my dohyo listening to the breeze and the birds singing, my thoughts are drawn to the past. What has come before us? How many of us know what a rich heritage of American Sumo we have? It is my hope to tell the story. A story that began long before Jesse stepped foot in a dohyo. Long before Konishiki and the Hawaiian Grand Champions. This story begins long ago, in the mists of time. This is the story of American Sumo.