SUMO IN THE CITY

Sumo is an ancient Japanese tradition, the origins of which are as old as the country itself. One legend holds that the nation was created by the outcome of a sumo match, one between rival gods. Today, the emperor can trace his lineage to the winner of that contest, and sumo is Japan's national sport. S.U.M.O. (Sumo Ultimate Masters Organization) was invented last year by a New York sports agent, Noah Goldman, who is convinced that sumo is the next big thing. Operating from his 54th Street office in Manhattan, he looks kind of like Alan Alda minus the witty one-liners. Last October, he organized the World S.U.M.O. Challenge in Madison Square Garden. Almost all of his wrestlers were amateurs-large men who loved the sport enough to wear the mawashi (the traditional loincloth) in public, but who had never made their daily bread from competition. That day, the man crowned champion walked away with $10,000, and Mr. Goldman got his prize: the American audience that paid to see it. Now, he's organized the World S.U.M.O. League Mega Tour 2006, and the first leg of his trip is a month-long, cross-country stint to try to stir up more stateside excitement.

Last week, Mr. Goldman invited the press to the Continental Airlines Arena, where the Nets and Devils play, so they could talk to his sumo and see a quick demonstration. Only four were on hand;

the other WSL wrestlers were scattered throughout the country doing similar promotions. There was Hans Borg, from Norway; Sidney Carty, from the Netherlands; Casey Burns, from Idaho; and Kaleo, born in Hawaii, but who's been living in Japan for most of the last decade. Except for Kaleo, they are all 6-foot-plus and close to 350 pounds, with Casey Burns tipping the scales at 456. Kaleo is far more compact, listed at 6 foot, 260. (In Japan and in S.U.M.O., there are no weight classes; sumo take on whomever they're assigned, regardless of size.) They all stood next to Mr. Goldman, wearing nothing but their loincloths against the draft blowing through the arena's lobby. Behind them, a digital display advertised the upcoming events at the arena, with the Mega Tour scheduled between HOT97 SummerJam and a Slayer concert. Mr. Goldman turned to the crowd and proudly began his show. After they were done, Hans Borg and Sidney Carty matched up. They settled into their starting positions on the squirming, inflatable bed, then, at the sound of a bell, slammed into each other. Sidney drove Hans backwards, who stumbled, caught his heel on the mattress' deep edge, flailed his arms and fell hard into the lobby's polished stone floor. The entire audience let out a nauseated groan all at once, including the kids. Mr. Goldman summoned a quick smile and asked for a round of applause for the wrestlers, which he got, while Hans dragged his 345-pound bulk off the ground, walked to the side and showed his hip to the doctor on hand.

Their circumstances-the lobby, the mattress, the $20 fruit salad and celery-carrot-dip buffet-didn't seem to bother the wrestlers, not even Hans. Sumo is their chosen sport, and if this is what they have to deal with to earn some respect, so be it. Sidney Carty enjoys life on tour. "It's great," he said. "Last week, we were in Tampa, did some promotion over there, and the people that we met were really excited about it."

On the road, most wrestlers will compete one day, and then take the next day off. When asked about his life back in Amsterdam, Carty laughs. "I'm still a banker," he said. "They gave me this time off." Hans Borg works in a mental institution, which is where Mr. Goldman came up with his wrestling name, "Psycho Sumo."

Casey Burns, an ex-Marine whose old government job "kind of went away," was a substitute teacher. But right now he's a professional sumo, out at fund-raisers and press events. Eventually, he needs to go back to Idaho. "Last week [was] my wife's birthday, and I missed it," he said. "I have to take her out to dinner."

The undersized Kaleo is, in fact, a retired Japanese sumo. While he was an all-state linebacker in Hawaii, he got scouted and lured to Japan by a sumo champion. He joined a stable, and for seven years did quite well. Now he's signed up with S.U.M.O., and like all the other wrestlers, he's out to get his profession some world-wide respect. The goal they're eyeing is the Olympics.

"This sport has been around for 2,000 years," Kaleo said. "You've got almost a hundred different countries involved. Why is this sport not in the Olympics yet?"

Once that's taken care of, he wouldn't mind some cheerleaders, either. For the time being, he and the rest of the sumo are living on buses and traveling from hotel to hotel. They train whenever they can. "Just an open area, we're not picky," he told me. When I asked him what stop on the tour he was looking forward to, Kaleo laughed and said, "Going back home."

June 9. Continental Airlines Arena, 50 State Route 120, E. Rutherford, N.J., 212-307-7171; 7:30, $22-$67.