Here’s the thing about sumo – it is a sport with all pretense stripped away. A one-on-one flashpoint collision with one sole objective: To overwhelm and physically dominate one’s opponent. Testosterone on testosterone. And if you lose, it can often be in humiliating fashion.

Yet over the course of three hours spent at the U.S. Sumo Open, I witnessed not a single display of anger or bitterness. Literally dozens of matches took place without incident. No taunting. Zero smack-talking. Not a trace of the intimidation techniques so common (and celebrated) across the pro sports ranks today.

These guys just lined up, looked each other in the eye, and had at it, with the best man winning that particular match. And after each match was done, both sumos stood to face each other across the ring and bowed. It was an environment of deep mutual respect and competitive humility.

It was the anti-NFL. The NBA with a muzzle. It was dignified.
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There’s really no other way of looking at it. I spent three hours of a Sunday afternoon watching very large men engage in a centuries-old tradition. In diapers. That is to say, they were in diapers, not I. “How did this come to be?” you might ask.
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