Further to yesterday's post, I found another wonderful photograph of Hakuho's Danpastu-shiki. This one comes via one of the sumo supporter sites on FB, though its actual provenance is likely one of the Japanese Daily's. I will find out and credit whichever it is.

This shot is particularly poignant, for Hakuho is being comforted by his friend and fellow (former) yokozuna, Harumafuji. The latter was probably my favourite wrestler until he was forced into early retirement after an incident which I won't go into here. He was a wonderful, smart, agile rikishi.

I think this speaks to true friendship, understanding what the other the feeling. Even big, tough guys can empathise.

Some ceremonies have a deep significance, stretching back centuries in time, laden with both obvious and more obscure meaning. Such was the ceremony to cut away the topknot (danpatsu-shiki) of retired champion Hakuho, on Saturday in Tokyo. Worn in a bun throughout the career of a rikishi, the strand-by stand cutting for Hakuho was performed by no less than 280 acquaintances, including past wrestlers, prominent figures, even a former Prime Minister.

Many have waxed lyrical about the achievements of the retired Yokozuna - the greatest of all time - in my estimation, so this ceremony had a particular significance both for fans and Hakuho himself. As the knot was finally cut, the great man wept.

"There is a sense of loneliness, as if losing a part of my body," he said at the conclusion.

Of course, he lives on now as the stablemaster Miyagino and we might expect some quality wrestlers to emerge from that quarter in coming years.

Musician Yoshiki snips at the famous topknot.

Photo courtesy Asahi Shimbun

Today is Australia Day. Once upon a time this was not a complicated matter. The vast majority gratefully accepted another public holiday in the summer. When I was a kid, there was very little to-do about it, since there was not a lot of patriotism, or, I should say, it was heavily underplayed. That, I think, is a good thing.

But since the 1980's there has been an awakening of national pride, often propelled by sporting achievements, music (the second wave of pop/rock), now and then by political leaders and most often by a certain comfortableness about being Australian. It rarely if ever tipped over into its evil twin, nationalism.

But things are indeed more complicated today. We have a better realisation that celebrating on a day that once commemorated the arrival of the First Fleet in 1788 is going to hurt indigenous Australians, over and over again. This has nothing to do with what the right calls 'woke', their pejorative term for anything that is wobbly, progressive, new age or self-reflective, but what is right and just.

Where to move it to, though? Now that would be a can of worms in a minefield in a (well, you keep mixing the metaphors for me). But something tells me it has be done. For fairness sake.

Meanwhile, enjoy the day.

I am not a huge fan of the oshi-zumo wrestling style of Takakeisho. For those interested, oshi-zumo, is a pushing-thrusting technique, which is executed exactly as it sounds. It is not lacking in skill or strength or application but can be somewhat repetitive to watch. Sure, the quick delivery of harite can be dramatic. Overall though, it lacks variety, or seems to, compared with yotsu-zumo, in which opponents grab each other's belts, or mawashi.

But for Takakeisho, it has brought him great success and the Ozeki (second highest rank) won yesterdays New Years Tournament in Tokyo, beating rank and filer Kotoshoho at the last. With a good record over the past three tourneys and now another title, he is certainly in line for promotion to yokozuna. 

Many will baulk at this and I have read some of the forums where he is regarded as merely a 'one-trick pony.' It is funny how non-Japanese fans of the sport can become so partisan, not to mention expert in all aspects of sumo. Takakeisho clearly has more than thrusting out or slapping down in his repertoire, for he won yesterday with a beltless arm throw (sukuinage), confounding many of his critics.

Maybe, with the top division in sight, he wants to diversify. I wish him luck.

I have been watching a documentary made in 2017 as part of the commemoration of The Great War. I've seen it before but there is an abiding attraction for me in a tale so horrendous, and yet real, so I am watching another time. The original footage has undergone colourisation, digitalisation and a resetting of the frame rate.

I don't think there can be much argument that WW1 was a singular disaster in human history. Worse, it ushered in a second great conflagration twenty years later. Remarkably, we are still recovering from both wars today, certainly the political and social consequences are with us. We would not be talking about a Russian invasion of the Ukraine, for example, if not for the revolution of 1917, brought about by the conditions created in Russia by WW 1. 

It is worth considering whether or not the declining human moral fortunes of the 20th Century translates into something more apocalyptic. I wouldn't blame anyone who thinks that our hold on existence is tenuous. Memories seem very short and lessons learnt are unlearnt within a generation of two. Weapons systems get more powerful and civilian populations appear to be fair game.

It doesn't have to be hell in handbasket. But it might be, more's the pity.

Lucky Dollar

Emptying a pocketful of change,

I count the silver out, gold in,

Two's and one's I rearrange,

Anticipate a coffee break.

But one remains -

A 'Donation Dollar' coin,

'Give to the needy', it reads,

The first I've seen that feeds

The gift of charity,

Directing in bold type

With utter clarity

Where to make the sale.

The spending it is easy,

So many cups and bowls,

Bedding, bewildered faces,

Doorways, arches, places

Where none should rest,

But must reside.

We put them there you know-

As if to hide an

All too-bitter truth,

The people of the gaps,

Long fallen through.

That this bright coin, perhaps

Tossed blithely in a cup

Surrendered to a blanket,

Or a shoe,

Might remedy the guilt,

Might even do.

It seems to me, and charitable organisations also bear this out, that there are more homeless people on the streets than ever. I have never, in recent memory, walked the streets of the CBD in Sydney and not encountered a homeless person, or the bedding and limited possessions of someone who was sleeping rough. That is an unfortunate given these days.

Even though there are hostels and crisis accommodation available, some choose to remain in situ, often for fear of the kinds of people they meet in such places. They say that they are safer on a footpath, in a doorway or under an eave than running the gauntlet of someone with mental illness or substance abuse. I don't know how accurate these statements are and doubtless there is some truth to them, but the cup-bearers I commonly meet do have a look in their eyes.

There is little I can do personally apart from advocate to politicians about the obvious need for safe hostels. I can also drop coins now and then into their various cups, containers, hats and bowls - a kind of tokenism, I know - but offering some practical help. Mobile street charity vans are also a great blessing.

The other day I was looking at a bunch of coins in my wallet and came across an unusual dollar coin. Upon closer inspection I noticed it had a most unusual inscription - 'Donation Dollar  Give to help others'. I wondered who had come up with such a great idea. Did anyone notice? How many had found their way into the hands of the needy?

Of course, it has gone straight into the coin purse that I have set aside for the small donations that I make. Someone will get it, someday soon.

The New Year's Grand Sumo Tournament began yesterday at Tokyo's Ryogoku Kokugikan, minus the sole Yokozuna Terunofuji (knee surgery), and with a highly depleted top order. There is now only one Ozeki, Takakeisho, his fellow rikishi having been demoted emphatically at the end of last year.

It speaks to a kind of crisis at the top of the wrestling pyramid and while there are talented young men coming through, the sheer attrition in the two highest ranks will be hard to fill. One can only hope for good performances this basho from the likes of Hoshoryu and Wakatakakage. We might also pray for the success of Asanoyama in the juryo division and his quick return to the top league after a time in oblivion. Currently he is at 2-0.

News also that Ichinojo is out with a 'Covid Infraction' is also a blow to the tourney. Rumour has had it that the gigantic Mongolian had been involved in misbehaviour, though an investigation by the Sumo Association found the allegations were rather too historic, way back in 2015. Still, one wonders at the suspension - for not conforming to covid regulations - if that was really all it was about. I will be glad to see him back in spring though.

One/One

New Years Day -

Uncannily like the last,

Blind to time's arrow,

For the year past

In likelihood will stay.

The hurried sparks dispersed,

Well-meaning oaths proclaimed,

The inebriate night rinsed

And morning just the same.

Careless bodies might testify

Only passing seconds remain.

So it is just,

Old wine in new skins?

Thoughts that actions defy,

The brute foot of dawn,

Or something more -

The fervent calls for anything

Unfamiliar in the game,

To quell the repetitions, 

And quicken imaginings,

A minted start in silken light,

That speaks to each by name,

Though quietly at first,

And not the halting flame.

My first post of 2023 is one that is quite considered. Last November I was confirmed as an adult in the Catholic Church, an event that I could not have predicted only a couple of years ago. But looking back I can see many signposts on that road that point, almost inevitably, to the destination I reached only two months ago. With God there are no mistake and this journey was no mistake.

If you are not a believer then that's okay, just bear with me. I come from an Anglican background, having been a convertee at the Billy Graham Crusade in Sydney in 1979. (Boy, do I owe that man!) I drifted away from the church as a young adult, caught up in the illusion of happiness outside of faith, a beguiling illusion indeed. Even at the time I knew that there was a price to pay for such foolishness.

Forty years later and I knew that something had to give. I had received an unknown number of "taps on the shoulder" and finally early last year I was stopped in my tracks. As the dust began to clear, there in front of me, to my incredulity, was the Roman Catholic Church. Seven months later I was making public vows before a congregation in Glenbrook. I have no doubt that God had spoken.

Life is funny, don't you think? And faith is a difficult thing, but it will come, if you want it to. And I do.