Wednesdaymania 312: Haru Ghost Basho

In Which I discuss the strangest sumo I've ever seen

It's March, which means it's Haru Basho season over in Japan. Rikishi from all over the world have gathered to test their strength and skill against one another, and Hakuho has prepared his Fool Wrecking hand.

But as you've likely heard by now, COVID-19/novel coronavirus has tightened its grip around Japan, and public events are essentially a no-no.

Yet Japan is a nation which places a great deal of weight on tradition. It's not like the US, where even the biggest Nerd Convention, E3, has been cancelled in face of the pandemic. The Haru Basho goes on. The sumo wrestlers have assembled, the press is on hand, and the cameras are rolling.

And they're all alone.

Because these are officially closed events - the public may not attend.

And there are rules.

1. All Rikishi must arrive privately - no public transportation usage is permitted for this Basho.
2. All Rikishi (and other attendees) must have their temperatures taken. The Rikishi must submit to this testing twice a day, and if they have a high enough temperature (37.5℃/99.5℉) twice in a row, they will be booted from the tournament to self-quarantine.
3. If two Rikishi show signs of fever, the entire Basho will be completely abandoned.
4. If even one Rikishi contracts COVID-19, the basho will be cancelled
5. Everyone has their hands spritzed with sanitizer on entry to the building
6. The ceremonial water drinking after matches? They're faking it.
7. Press do not have access to the dressing rooms - only the specially designated interview area
8. Literally everyone is wearing masks outside of the matches themselves.

Have you ever been in a place you know is supposed to be filled with people (a stadium, a public building, a park, etc), but it's completely devoid of anyone else? This basho feels like that. It's a huge, empty arena with a dohyo in the middle and some sumo wrestlers and officials. A couple of camera men dot the surrounding areas, but there's nobody in the stands.

It's so quiet you can hear the wrestlers' heavy breathing, their footsteps, the rustling of the gyoji's robes, the whistling of the bow during the bow-twirling ceremony.

It's eerie.

The silence and empty air are what have earned it the nickname "Ghost Basho". I don't know if that's what the media is calling it, though. I just thought it sounded accurate.

If you want a posterchild for hope within adversity, however, and how strange life can be in the face of a pandemic (which, guys, a pandemic is, by its very definition, global, stop saying "global pandemic"), then definitely watch this basho.

I hope that it's not a sign of sports to come this year, and I hope this disease burns itself out as quickly as it appeared, but the curse of the 20s lives on, I guess.

Yes, I am aware that the Spanish Flu was in 1918, but that counts. It's like a period - sometimes it's a little early, sometimes it's a little late, but it sucks and there's a lot of mess.

You can watch the Haru Basho here.

Go Enjoy Something! (And stop buying so much toilet paper - if you cause a global shortage now, then who will restock it when you inevitably run out?)

FC