Sumo almost faded away in Seattle. These wrestlers changed that

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t’s a rainy day on Rainier Avenue, right on the border of Seattle’s Chinatown-International District and Central District.

While it’s pouring outside, everyone inside the small dohyo — the sacred, raised clay ring used for sumo wrestling — is shoes off and working hard.

Over the last two hours inside the ring — a circle made of string on mats — wrestlers have warmed up, worked on hip flexibility and endurance, practiced their favorite moves, and fought over and over. They’ve been gasping for air for at least an hour.

This is a typical Wednesday practice at Rain City Sumo. But Nick West, a founding coach, says it’s not over yet: It’s time for the final push, called butsukari-geiko.

“Basically, after you’re completely wasted, no energy left, you push each other across the ring just to make sure you didn’t have an ounce of gas left in the tank,” West said.

On Sundays, practice goes for three hours. And in Japan, practice can go for five or more hours, some of the longest martial arts training.

Rain City Sumo tries to stick with Japanese traditions. But their amateur team is open to anyone physically capable of fighting, regardless of size, gender, or background.

It all started during COVID, self-taught, outside in parks. Eventually, those park sessions turned into a team and formal connections with Japanese sumo.

Today, Rain City Sumo’s dohyo is full.

You probably have at least an idea of what sumo looks like from TV or the internet, but it’s more than you might think.

“Sumo is a standing grappling system where if you are pushed out of the ring or if any part of your body other than the bottoms of your feet touch the ground, you lose,” West said.

And getting out of the ring can involve brute force or some creativity.

“It involves throws, sweeps, trips, lifts, shoves, slap downs,” West explained.

You can even slap somebody in the face — lightly.

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Every fight, or “bout” in the world of sumo, happens very fast.

“The bouts are short, but it’s 110% the whole way,” West said. “There is not one muscle in your body relaxed during that. And if you’re taking time to take a breather, you’re probably losing.”

Sumo is considered one of the oldest martial arts in Japan. It also has a long history in Seattle.

“The history of sumo in Seattle goes back to the first generation of Japanese immigrants to the area,” said Steven Riggs, Rain City Sumo’s other founding coach.

He says Japanese Americans were holding sumo tournaments in Seattle up until they were incarcerated during World War II. There was even sumo in the prison camps.

But after families returned from incarceration and worked to rebuild their old lives, Seattle’s sumo community didn’t recover.

“It didn’t make a comeback in the communities,” West said. “And that may have been because they moved to different areas after leaving the camps.”

For some 84 years afterward, West said Seattle went without sumo tournaments.

That changed last year, when Rain City Sumo hosted their first annual Rain City Open. They just hosted their second tournament over the weekend, and it drew fighters from all over the world.

George Sua was the champion of the first annual Rain City Open. Sua is Polynesian, and at least during this practice, he’s the biggest guy in the room.

“I didn’t think we could do sumo. I thought you have to be chosen or something, because sumo’s part of Japanese culture. I didn’t want to disrespect the culture,” Sua said. “So, when I knew that we could do it amateurly, I’m like, ‘Oh my God, I want to try. Sign me up.’”

Sua went into it very confident. He loved watching professional sumo, and he’d seen other Polynesians do well in the sport. Plus, he came from power lifting and has always been strong.

But it was a humbling experience.

“In the beginning, I was getting tossed around, I was not doing too good and kind of embarrassed myself. I’m like, ‘Dang, I’m this big guy losing to all these small people,’” Sua recalled. “But that’s what made me keep coming back — to prove to myself that I can be better.”

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He loves how unique the sport is, how fast it moves, using his body, and how the team feels like family.

For Sua, success is all about mindset.

“It takes heart,” he said. “You can’t be afraid. No matter if they’re 400 pounds or 120 pounds, you just cannot be afraid. You have to believe that you are strong. You have to believe that you can do it. And if you do those two things, results will come in.”

“Oh, oh," he added, "and if you want to become a great sumo champion, you have to eat rice.”

Sua is a heavyweight champ and an open-weight champ. In the latter, people with size differences of hundreds of pounds can face off.

But, as coach Nick West says, don’t count out the smaller guys and their clever, quick maneuvering.

“If they can get into a stance where they’re not going to lose easily, they can cause the larger person to overcommit,” West said. “And then, they pull them, rather than trying to push, to cause them to fall on the ground or run out of the ring. And it’s actually very effective.”

Larger wrestlers have to be cautious.

“A lot of times, the big guy will be afraid to overcommit or charge too hard,” West explained, “because they know the little guy isn’t going to give him an honest hit straight out of the charge.”

Amateur sumo is open to people of different sizes and to women.

Ailleen West learned that while supporting her husband Nick at an early competition. Although the division was small — maybe five women participated — she thought it looked fun.

“They’re big, and they’re like me,” she remembers thinking. “I can do that.”

There was a learning curve. Ailleen had never participated in sports, let alone wrestling or any kind of martial arts. But she says it made her feel strong.

“It was tough, but I feel really great,” she said. “I feel really strong.”

“My self esteem is like, ‘Yeah, I held that up!’” she added with a laugh.

As one of only two women on the team, Ailleen often has to face off with the guys. Ahead of Saturday’s tournament, she was excited to bring her confident, forceful style to the competition.

“There’s not a lot of women competing, but of the five, I’m the smallest one,” she said. “So, it’ll be fun to show my force and power against bigger women, stronger women.”

Those bouts can last mere seconds, and they're Ailleen’s favorite part. That’s the moment when all the preparation — training five hours a week to lock in the muscle memory for grappling and cross training at the gym — pays off.

“When I start in a bout, I feel like Zen. There’s people cheering, but it quiets down and you calm down, and then it’s fast,” she said. “It’s like all my power, all my thinking disappears, and I’ll just charge.”