That time Sumo wrestlers invaded the Chronicle
Arts critic takes her best shot in face-off with 600-pound, 6-foot-4-inch elite athlete
We were just playing.
But Yama squinted hard at me as we squatted on the ground a few feet apart from each other. Feet planted. Knees wide. Ready to pounce.
Yama weighs 600 pounds. He’s the heaviest Japanese person ever to walk the earth. I hover around 120. So, yes. I completely forgot I was supposed to let a demure referee named Jimmy, who wore a gorgeous, ceremonial Japanese robe, tell us when to start our sumo face-off Wednesday in the Chronicle’s newsroom.
Chronicle news reporters and photographers face danger sometimes in their line of work. I’m an arts critic. I am usually paid to sit in theater seats or breeze through museums. But there we were. Yama was wearing only the heavy satin loincloth known as a mawashi. Thankfully, I was barefoot but otherwise fully clothed, with no belt that he could have used to lift me sky high and sling me across the newsroom if he’d felt like it.
Also thankfully, we were not alone. Yama and three other elite sumo athletes — the 380-pound Byamba, 500-pound Ramy and 520-pound Hiroki — were educating us about the art of sumo wrestling. They’ll do a real demonstration on a proper mat during Thursday’s sold-out Men of Menil fundraiser.
A roomful of colleagues stood by. I’m positive at least one or two of them would have jumped to my defense if anything had gone awry.
Directed by USA Sumo’s executive director Andrew Freund, the wrestlers impressed us with their flexibility: Hiroki demonstrated a front-facing split with his head on the floor. They all performed exercises that included squats akin to what a ballet dancer would call a deep, first-position plié and one-leg lifts that they normally repeat for about an hour.
Sumo began centuries ago as entertainment for Shinto rulers in Japan. It still requires intense training and a strict regimen that involves more than eating copious amounts of sumo stew.
Byamba, who has won hundreds of matches against challengers who weigh much more than him, explained that balance is the key to winning. Still. Mind over matter. I could slap Yama. I could grab him by the belt of his mawashi. I could not kick him or hit him with my fists or grab his topknot, assuming I could have reached it.
He’s 6 feet 4 inches tall. I’m somewhere around 5 feet 3 inches.
I thought I’d start with a slapping strategy, but something about the girth of the wall of flesh in front of me made that seem futile. I don’t like to sweat, by the way. Yama’s skin was moist, and his fleshy chest gave where I hit him with my best, wimpy shot. But fighting is not in my nature, even when it’s just for fun.
And did I mention that I don’t like to sweat?