Mark Harrison returned home from school. It was the start of his final semester of his final year of high school. He was very relieved that it was. He was taking all easy classes and he expected A's in all of them. He never did sports and he chose not to do any in this semester of school. It wasn't that he wasn't fit for that, because he weighed around 175 pounds and had the height of 5 feet 10 inches. Which, to be fair, is good enough for sports of any kind, he never got into it much. His view was that that wasn't necessary. For him, he was already confident without it. He felt comfortable about himself- his medium-length brown hair usually windswept, his blue almond shaped eyes, his round face with a well-defined jaw line, small nose, and small ears, and his jeans and occasional graphic tee- he didn't think he needed to change anything about him.
He went straight up to his room and flung his book bag that he had carried all day at school. His room was what you would call typical. It had stacks of stuff scattered all around his room. He had barren walls, but his shelves were filled with miscellaneous objects that he collected throughout the years, from trophies he won for academic achievements at school to action figures of his favorite heroes. His walls were painted in a dark shade of blue and a beige colored carpet. His bed was covered in a similar shade of blue on his sheet, blanket, and pillow cover. This was clearly a room for a boy.
He sat on his chair and loaded up his computer. He got on Skype, waiting for his best friend, Pedro Hernandez, to get on. At long last, he heard a ding that sounded whenever a video call was initiated. On the other side, it was Pedro. Pedro was in the same grade as he was and lived a couple of blocks from him. They shared similar interests and would hang out over the weekends to play video games. He was of Mexican descent. Both of his parents were born in Mexico and migrated to America for a better life, as Pedro told Mark. He usually wore polo shirts and khakis. He had a slightly long black hair, and was typically tangled and not brushed. He weighed around the same weight as Mark, as well as his height.
"Hey, man!" Pedro greeted Mark.
"Hey." Mark responded.
"Guess what I'm going to join."
"What, the track team?"
"No. You know I would never do that." They both laughed. "I'm thinking about joining our new sumo wrestling team."
"Isn't that a part of our regular wrestling program?"
"Nah, it's something totally different."
"I see."
"I thought about having you join too. What you think?"
"Well, I'd rather not"
"C'mon, it'll only be for a couple of months and it's not like you have to gain a whole lot if you don't want to."
Mark thought about for a few moments. Trying to soak in Pedro's deal "Sure." He said decidedly.
"Great! The first day of practice is this Friday. Can't wait."
"Me neither!" Mark got himself pumped up for this new venture, though a little nervous at the same time.
"It looks like I got to go, my mom is making rice and beans. See you tomorrow."
"I'll see you too." As soon as that was said, another ding sounded to tell the end of the conversation. Mark just sat in his chair, relaxing. "What have I gotten myself into?" His mom called up to his room to tell him that his dinner was ready.
Days past and Friday finally came. Mark sat in his eighth period math class, when an intercom message came on, "Sumo wrestling practicing is in the gym right after school." Then the bell rang to dismiss the entire school. Mark grabbed his bag and met up with Pedro in the hallway, together they walked to the gym.
When they walked in, they found their seat on the bleachers. They got in early and saw other people file in. After fifteen minutes, the coach came in. He stood in front of the group. He wasn't a teacher he recognized, but he thought he taught Japanese here at the school. It would make sense, he continued to think. After all, he did look like typical Japanese in his face. He was very formal in his apparel, but still very relaxed. He wore a button up shirt with khaki pants and dress shoes, but he didn't come off as stern or tough.
The Japanese teacher started to talk: "Welcome students to our very first sumo wrestling meeting. I am Coach Peters; I am so proud you guys could show up and take part of this massive and ancient sport. To begin, I will introduce you to some basic terminology. Firstly, you will now start calling the gym as your heya and I'll be your coach. And yes, you will have to change into one of these." Coach Peters held up a loincloth looking thing. "What I am holding is called a mawashi. You will wear this when we train and when we go to each school to compete in bouts." Coach Peters sat the mawashi down. "Don't worry; you'll wear a robe, so all you have to do is to take it off when it's your turn. And talking about competitions, every venue we'll attend will be called a basho, and you'll compete in what we call honbasho on a dojo. Now we go into the different parts of a honbasho. You'll start off with a move called Tachiai, these moves are done at the initial start of the honbasho. They consist of charging head first, thrusting into your opponent's chest, grabbing on your opponent's belt, among other things you can do. Once the match begins, you have one main goal: Push your opponent out of the dohyo. That's where weight comes into advantage. The more weight you have pushing against your opponent the better chances you have in winning the honbasho. I don't expect you to gain 100 pounds in one season, but I will encourage you to gain some pounds. So, is this going to be an exciting year or what?" Light chatter fills the air. "Good. That's it for now. Our first day of training will be on Monday. Be here at the heya after school. I expect you to arrive promptly. When you come, go get your mawashi and change into it. We got no time to simply goof off. See you then." Mark and Pedro left with the rest of the sumo wrestlers.
"So, what do you think?" Pedro asked Mark.
"Honestly, it wasn't bad. I think I'm going to have fun this season." Mark replied, as he gave his best friend a wide grin.
"Excellent!"
They both exited the school. Mark went to his car and went home. When he got home, he saw his parents were sitting at the table. They were drinking coffee. Mark walked to the table and slouched a little.
"How was the meeting?" His dad asked him.
"It went well." Mark said.
"I'm proud you're participating in something. How long have we asked you to do something in the school?" His mom said.
"You know, nothing really interested me until now." Mark told his mom.
"Yeah, I've been trying to encourage you in something like football or drama." His dad said jokingly to Mark, but he just rolled his eyes.
"Can I go up to my room? I'm sort of exhausted." Mark asked his parents.
"Sure." His mom said to Mark.
Mark went up to his room and flung his bag on his floor. He couldn't quite imagine how all this might turn out, but he did have some sort of image in his head. From the sites he saw and the magazines he looked at, he figured that most of them are at least over 300 pounds. A weight game, Mark thought. Then he added that weight onto him and had a sudden image in his head. He couldn't think how he would look and how it might change his life. He stopped thinking about it and booted up his PlayStation 4. He continued playing whatever game that was in there straight through dinner. He turned it off right before he went to bed.
This is the start of Mark's journey as a sumo wrestler.
Comments (0)
See all