SFM Cartoons Benny Loh & Stephen Thompson In the third of our cartoon bonanzas, sit back and enjoy BL’s offerings and put a caption to ST’s pic to win yourselves a banzuke
Sumo Quiz The Quizmaster Answer the Qs and win yourself next basho’s banzuke. |
Let's Hear From You! What Made You A Fan? |
pounced on at an airport bookstall. I immediately subscribed to it and felt that at last I was beginning to get a handle on the essence of sumo: mulling over the basho round-tables and the stats reflecting the twists and turns of life on the Banzuke. ... and then came the internet: via “access technology” – hard and software which translates print documents into voice and braille outputs – I now had the life-transforming opportunity to read about all my enthusiasms independently. With sumo, the impact was momentous. I no longer had to wait several weeks for each sumo fix – and often a few more days until friends had time to administer it. The enormous depth and breadth of the subject was now open to me; I could research any sumo topic, as meticulously as necessary, whenever I wished. Sumo messageboards, the sports pages of English-language Japanese newspapers, sites covering amasumo across the world, they all add up to an acquaintance with sumo which I never imagined possible before I went online. I surfed into sumofanmag.com, via another site’s links page, in September and was immediately wowed! It’s a marvellous digest of all the ingredients I find so fascinating about sumo, but it also pokes into corners of the sport which I’ve not seen explored anywhere else – it’s a terrific read! Home |
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Each issue of SFM, We’ll ask one of you to tell us something about you and sumo. Think you have something readers would like to know? Write our letters section! Enjoy. |
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It was heading towards lunchtime on Boxing Day, 1985. I was in bed, nursing a thundering Christmas hangover and the nagging realisation that, having graduated from Uni six months ago, I needed a job! Needing some diversion, I prodded the TV on. It wasn’t Christmas fare: a documentary on sumo wrestling. It was a terrible caricature of the sport – anchored by a man renowned for commentating on a bazillion sports without being an authority on any of them, the programme portrayed all rikishi as men who amassed enormous wealth, before plummeting from the pinnacle of success to do a few years as fair-ground exhibits prior to dying at forty after all those years stuffing their guts. In spite of the trashy presentation and my semi-comatose perception, however, sumo had hooked me during that half-hour. Something compelled me about its ritual and atmosphere, and the fact that a guy of sixteen |
stone had used a blizzard of slaps and chops – the programme didn’t bother with terminology – to hustle out an opponent of thirty-five stone. No more sumo came my way for two or three years. The UK’s TV channels weren’t showing anything and as a Registered Blind person, the chances of finding any relevant reading matter were even more remote than for most western fans at that time. Then though, Channel Four got into sumo, this time with the more scholarly accompaniment of Lyall Watson’s commentary (later superseded by the uber-ebullient Brian Blessed). Four’s coverage triggered the publication of several sumo books that I devoured via long-suffering friends, though they were so basic that they pretty much replicated each other’s content. My next great leap forward came in 1990, when one such friend presented me with an edition of Sumo World he’d |
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