Wrestling when thus spelled and printed in English instantly suggests brute force. For one pictures the reptilian scenes of human fray so familiar to the Westerner, so repulsive to the Japanese. Sumo – so wrestling is called in Japan – originated as a martial art, and, like all similar accomplishments of the samurai such as archery and horsemanship, is practiced in strict observance of etiquette, and brutality is conspicuous by its total absence.
    “The art of living” was likened to wrestling rather than dancing by Marcus Aurelius. Sumo and dancing would not present diametrically opposed ideas to us who know Sumo only as it is practiced today. But Marcus Aurelius lived more than 1,800 years ago, and our ancestors of his time would unquestionably have understood the Roman Emperor’s simile better than we, for wrestling then was sometimes a matter of life and death, certainly the exact antithesis in desirability of dancing.
    The origin of Japanese wrestling is shrouded in mythological obscurity like so many of our old traditions and institutions. But popular historians agree that Sumo dates from the seventh year of the reign of the Emperor Suinin (23 A.D.). There was a powerful warrior named Kehaya (or literally, Quick-Kicker) who could break ox-horns into pieces by slightly tightening the grip of his fingers and could bend heavy ironwork like chewing gum. If there was ever such a man eager for the fray, has was. For truly he met no one half as strong as he. His fame finally reached the ears of the Emperor, and it was arranged to hold a wrestling match in the Sovereign’s presence. After a search through the provinces Nomi-no Sukune was summoned.
    Their famous bout, in which the latter emerged easy victor, is commonly accepted as the beginning of modern wrestling. The manner of their duel was so grim and violent, however, that they might as well be regarded as progenitors of American football. For Kehaya got broken ribs and fell dead!
    This type of fighting was not peculiar to that time, nor the monopoly of Japan. It has been practised everywhere in the world. And the incident, after all, can not be accepted as the forerunner of the present Sumo tradition. Seven centuries elapse before another mention is made of wrestling as an institution in Japanese history, although we hear of some breath-taking wrestling matches that took place during the interim. In 717, Emperor Shomu gave wrestling parties in the Imperial Court, held subsequently during the following years until wrestling became an annual event at the Imperial Court, gradually taking on the aspect of a tradition. In the middle of June, by the lunar calendar, an Imperial Writ of summons was issued, and messengers were dispatched to all provinces to recruit wrestlers. Later in the month the Wrestling Festival was observed with due ceremony in the Imperial Palace Compound. This practice of sending for wrestlers devolved later on to Provincial Governors who had to pay a yearly tribute of strong men to the Imperial Court. In turn, these strong men served as members of the Imperial Bodyguard. The Sumo Festival ceased to be held as an annual Court function after 1174, and with the shifting of the reigns of Government from the Emperor to the Shogun, the scene of official sumo matches also moved from Kyoto to Kamakura. But through all the years they remained, officially, matches arranged among warriors exclusively.
    Non-warrior sumo participants did not come into being until about 250 years ago, when professional sumo rose to prominence through “benefit performances” arranged for the raising of funds for erecting religious edifices. In 1645, the first of a series of such performances was given and for some time the name remained in use, although the charitable nature was soon superseded by the commercial, and sumo for the first time became an organized, self-supporting institution, tournaments being arranged among professional, non-warrior wrestlers and the gallery filled by plebian spectators.
     The thing that most strikes the uninitiated foreign spectator is the enormous size of the professional wrestlers. It would seen strange to him that, instead of being trained down to a decent size as they would in most forms of athletics, they are given every encouragement to put on an increasing amount of fat. The best sumo players border on or exceed six feet in height and weigh 250 pounds or more.
    How are they trained to grow into such extraordinary proportions? No satisfactory explanation can be given, other than that they were born to be giants. Most of us think, however, that diet has a great deal, and drinking more to do with their size. One is reminded of Frederick the Great’s choice of his grenadiers. Like Japanese professional wrestlers of today, they were sought for all over the country, and when found, were provided with the most generous amount of food and drink. Whatever the reason, the Japanese wrestler is truly of remarkable size, and it is really incredible how he can combine size and skill and maintain the agility of muscles necessary for the match.
    So it is natural that we should hear and tell and tell stories of questionable authenticity about Gargantuan feats of prowess. Here is one of mediaeval vintage.
    “Once upon a time in the Province of Kaga there lived a mighty strong man by the name of Kinai. His fame traveled far and wide and many were the tales of his feats of strength.
    “It came about that a samurai in another province, himself a man of great daring and prowess, decided to travel to Kaga and challenge this peasant wrestler.
    “Kinai was planting rice seedlings when the samurai rode up on a magnificent charger. Then the samurai beholding Kinai, and believing him a humble peasant, inquired of him the way to the house of the mighty Kinai.
    “Kinai realized at once that this man had come to challenge him. But the season was for planting rice plants and not for wrestling or tournaments. And so Kinai, wishing to avoid any unnecessary delay in the planting of his crop, placed a spade through the trappings on the horse and lifted both steed and rider high into the air and they turned them around so that they faced his own small cottage.
    “This took the samurai’s breath away. And he shouted from his perilous perch high in the air. “Why – why – you must be Kinai”.
    “On no,” answered Kinai, “I am one of his servants”.
    “Well, if a servant is as mighty as this, the master must be much more powerful.” The man on horseback thought, and losing all his courage he turned round and rode off as fast as he could.” (S.S)