Few sports can enthrall an audience for 45 minutes of ritual before the first competitive moment even arrives.

However, the elaborate traditions displayed in a modest clay circle—largely unchanged for centuries—managed to captivate just that.

Welcome to the Grand Sumo Tournament, a five-day spectacle held at the Royal Albert Hall, showcasing 40 of the finest sumo wrestlers in a sport that has roots dating back to 23 BC.

The historic Victorian concert hall has undergone a remarkable transformation, now featuring a six-ton Japanese temple roof suspended above the ring.

Here, the wrestlers, referred to as rikishi, will perform their distinctive leg stomps to ward off evil spirits and clap their hands to attract the attention of the deities.

Above this ancient ritual, a massive, rotating LED screen, reminiscent of those seen at American basketball games, provides the crowd with all the statistics and replays they could desire.

While sumo is steeped in tradition—with stringent rules dictating every aspect of a rikishi’s behavior—it continues to thrive in a contemporary era.

This modern environment is pivotal in introducing sumo to audiences beyond Japan.

Sian Spencer’s fascination began with a “random video” she stumbled upon a couple of years ago.

Following this, she found specialized YouTube channels for various sumo stables, where rikishi live and train, rising early to practice, followed by a nutritious chankonabe stew and an afternoon rest—an effort to gain weight.

She then learned about the bi-monthly, 15-day championships known as basho, and from that moment, she was hooked.

The London tournament represented a unique, can’t-miss opportunity for the 35-year-old to experience it all firsthand.

Julia and her partner Cezar, residents of Edinburgh, discovered sumo through a more conventional path: a trip to Japan six years ago.

“We thought it would just be a tourist attraction, but we ended up loving the sport,” recalls Julia, 34.

“From that point onward, we sought out communities and information, eager to know more,” adds Cezar, 36.

They found that colleagues, friends, and family were often surprised by their newfound enthusiasm.

“It’s the only sport we really follow,” Julia explains, leading them to connect with similar enthusiasts through messaging platforms like Telegram.

“We discovered Italian and English groups,” Julia shares.

“Beyond Japan, the internet is the primary means of engaging with the sport,” Cezar notes.

Attending a top-level sumo event in Japan is almost the only way to witness the sport firsthand.

This week marks the second time the tournament has come to London—the first occurrence was in 1991—while its last international outing was in Jakarta in 2013.

However, even a trip to Japan doesn’t guarantee a seat. Last year marked the first instance in 24 years where all six of the bi-monthly, 15-day tournaments sold out—prompted by heightened interest domestically and a surge in tourism that brought over 36 million visitors to Japan in 2024.

For many, this London event represents their first live sumo experience, and it does not disappoint.

“Seeing it up close gives you a sense of the speed and strength that you just don’t get from watching on TV. It was amazing,” says Caspar Eliot, a 36-year-old fan from London. “They’re enormous.”

To secure victory, one wrestler must either force his opponent out of the ring or to the ground using sheer force. Most athletes employ one of two tactics—either pushing or grappling—often executed in mere moments.

In any case, the impact of two rikishi colliding at the start of the match resonates throughout the hall.

Caspar and his wife, Megha Okhai, were among those fortunate enough to purchase tickets during their visit to Japan last year—only for them to arrive belatedly in the mail.

Despite this, they were enchanted by the sport and have since watched every basho this year. When it came time for the London Grand Sumo Tournament, they resolved not to miss out.

“We had four devices ready to book tickets,” Caspar confides to the BBC ahead of the event, proudly displaying his sumo-themed towels—essential for any dedicated fan. “We secured front-row seats, right on the cushions.”

Cushions positioned directly next to the ring are in high demand yet come with their own risks.

On Thursday, 181 kg and 191 cm of Shonannoumi suddenly toppled into the crowd—providing some relief to those in the somewhat less expensive seats.

Undoubtedly, the size of the rikishi is one of the first aspects that come to mind when people think of sumo. The Royal Albert Hall’s programming director revealed to The Guardian earlier this week that they had to procure new seating capable of accommodating up to 200 kg.

Nevertheless, despite its sold-out events, sumo faces challenges behind the scenes. A string of scandals in recent decades involving bullying, match-fixing, and sexism have tarnished its reputation.

Adding to the concern, last year—a record-breaking year for ticket sales—also saw the lowest number of new recruits joining the stables.

Perhaps the demanding lifestyle of a rikishi is losing its appeal among younger generations. Interest in sumo is also facing competition from other sports, such as baseball. As BBC’s resident sumo enthusiast, Thomas Fabbri, remarked: “My Japanese friends think I’m crazy, as they view it as a sport for older individuals.”

Japan’s declining birthrate will not aid the sport’s growth—nor does the Japanese Sumo Association’s policy, which limits each stable to only one foreign rikishi. Despite this, Mongolian wrestlers have dominated the sport in recent years, and one of the most promising up-and-coming talents hails from Ukraine.