Should you throw your zabuton (seat cushion) when the yokozuna loses?

No — The cushion throw is a real spontaneous crowd tradition for big upsets, but the Japan Sumo Association officially discourages it because flying cushions hurt people — and many arena cushions are now tied or shaped to prevent it. As a visitor, never initiate it.

Is it okay to call out 'ganbare!' and clap when the wrestlers charge?

Yes — Yes — cheering a wrestler's name, shouting 'ganbare' (がんばれ), and applauding at the right beats is exactly how the crowd participates. Just keep it quiet during the pre-bout shikiri staredown, and never boo the loser.

Can you eat and drink in a masu-seki box seat?

Yes — Absolutely — bento, beer, and yakitori are part of the sumo experience. Just move only between bouts, don't block the people behind you, and carry your trash out when you leave.

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Sumo Viewing Etiquette: How to Watch a Grand Tournament Without Becoming the Story

A honbasho grand tournament is loud, festive, and surprisingly relaxed — but there are a handful of moments where tourists accidentally cross a line, from copying the famous cushion-throw to yelling during the tense pre-bout staredown. Here's how to fit right in.

Throwing your zabuton after a big upset

A tourist standing up to hurl a seat cushion across the sumo arena after an upset while others duck

Launching your seat cushion when the yokozuna gets beaten

You've seen the clips: a yokozuna (横綱 / grand champion) loses to a lower-ranked wrestler, and suddenly the arena fills with flying zabuton (座布団 / seat cushions). It looks like a sanctioned tradition, so visitors sometimes grab their cushion and join in — or worse, start it. The problem is that a hard cushion thrown across a packed arena genuinely hurts people, and the Japan Sumo Association (Nihon Sumō Kyōkai) explicitly announces against it before bouts and posts notices discouraging it. At Ryōgoku Kokugikan many box-seat cushions are now tied together or shaped specifically to make throwing them awkward, precisely to stamp this out.

A spectator sitting calmly and clapping after an upset while a few cushions fly elsewhere in the arena

Let the locals' tradition be theirs — don't initiate it

Yes, the zabuton throw is a real, spontaneous crowd reaction that still erupts when a yokozuna falls to a big underdog — it's part of the drama and it's not going away. But it's officially discouraged for safety, and as a visitor you absolutely should not be the one who starts it. If a genuine wave of cushions goes up around you after a major upset, that's the crowd doing its thing; you can simply stay seated and enjoy the spectacle. Initiating it, or throwing yours during a normal result, just makes you the foreigner who beaned someone in row 12. 🤼

Cheering and booing at the wrong moments

A loud spectator shouting and booing during the quiet pre-bout staredown as others look annoyed

Yelling through the staredown and booing the loser

Sumo isn't a Western stadium sport, and the rhythm of noise is different. Tourists sometimes shout and boo continuously, or get loud during the shikiri (仕切り) — the tense pre-bout face-off where wrestlers crouch, glare, and throw salt. Booing a wrestler, heckling, or screaming over the staredown reads as disrespectful, because that quiet tension is part of the ritual. Phones blaring or ringing during this moment is the same kind of foul.

A spectator clapping and calling out a wrestler's name at the moment the two wrestlers charge

Read the room — quiet for the ritual, loud at the right beats

During the shikiri (仕切り), the salt-throwing and face-off, the crowd watches relatively quietly and the energy builds. When the wrestlers finally charge, that's when you let it out — call a wrestler's name, shout 'ganbare!' (がんばれ / 'go for it!'), and clap hard. The bouts themselves are brutally short, often just a few seconds, so the cheering comes in sharp bursts, not a constant roar. No booing the loser, ever, and keep your phone silenced. Match the crowd's rhythm and you'll feel like a regular. 👏

Treating the box seats like a stadium row

A tourist standing up mid-bout in a cramped tatami box seat blocking the view behind, trash scattered around

Standing mid-bout, sprawling across the box, leaving trash behind

The prime seats are masu-seki (枡席) — small, low-walled tatami boxes on the floor, sold for four people. They're cramped, and visitors used to stadium chairs make three classic mistakes: standing up or wandering during a bout and blocking the view of everyone behind, sprawling out and hogging a box meant for four, and walking off leaving bento boxes, beer cans, and yakitori skewers on the tatami. All three annoy the people around you in a space where everyone is packed in tight.

A group sitting shoes-off on cushions in a tatami box eating bento and drinking beer between bouts

Shoes off, sit tight during bouts, carry your trash out

Slip your shoes off and sit on the cushions inside the masu-seki (枡席). Eating and drinking is not just allowed but part of the fun — bento, beer, yakitori, and sometimes chanko (the wrestlers' hearty hotpot) are all standard sumo fare. Just time your movement: get up and stretch or hit the restroom during the gaps between bouts, not while two wrestlers are squared off. And take your trash with you when you leave — bag it and bin it. If a tatami box sounds too tight, the isu-seki (椅子席 / chair seats) up in the arena tiers are roomier and easier on the knees. 🍱

Mobbing wrestlers and using flash in the corridors

Tourists crowding and grabbing at a sumo wrestler in a hallway while firing camera flashes

Flash, tripods, and grabbing rikishi as they pass through the halls

Rikishi (力士 / sumo wrestlers) walk through the same public corridors as fans to get to the ring, often passing close enough to touch. Some visitors treat this as a photo free-for-all: firing off flash, setting up tripods, blocking the aisles, or — the real line-crosser — grabbing, mobbing, or chasing a wrestler for a selfie. Flash and tripods are disruptive, blocked aisles are a hazard, and physically grabbing a rikishi is genuinely rude and can get you stopped by staff.

A spectator bowing slightly and taking a quick photo as a wrestler walks past in the corridor

Quiet photos, hands off, obey the no-photo signs

Photography is generally fine at the tournament — just no flash, no tripods, and don't plant yourself blocking an aisle. When a rikishi (力士) passes close in the corridor, a quick respectful photo or a small bow is completely welcome; many wrestlers are gracious about it. What you never do is grab them, block their path, or trail them down the hall. And watch for 撮影禁止 (satsuei kinshi / no-photography) signage in certain areas and honor it. Treat them like the professional athletes they are and you'll get your shot. 📸

A grand tournament is more festival than funeral

Sumo can look intimidating from the outside — ancient ritual, Shinto salt-throwing, solemn referees in elaborate robes — so first-timers often arrive bracing for a stiff, museum-quiet experience. It isn’t. A honbasho (本場所 / grand tournament) is a long, festive day out: people pour in and out, snack on bento, crack open beers, and the place hums with energy. There are six honbasho a year — three at Ryōgoku Kokugikan (両国国技館) in Tokyo, and one each in Osaka, Nagoya, and Fukuoka.

The trick is knowing the few moments where the festive crowd suddenly goes quiet and ritual-serious, and not blundering through them. Get those right and the rest of the day is genuinely relaxed.

The rhythm of noise

The single most useful thing to understand is the shikiri (仕切り) — the pre-bout ritual. The two wrestlers step onto the dohyō, toss salt to purify it, crouch, glare each other down, reset, and do it again. This can stretch on for minutes, and the crowd watches it with building, relatively hushed tension. Then they charge — and the whole arena erupts for the few seconds the bout lasts.

So the pattern is: quiet anticipation, then a sharp burst of noise. Call out wrestler names, shout ganbare (がんばれ), clap when it’s over. Don’t boo, don’t heckle, and silence your phone.

Where you sit changes the experience

The famous floor boxes are masu-seki (枡席) — small tatami squares sold for four, shoes off, cushions down. They’re tight and atmospheric, perfect for eating and drinking your way through the day’s bouts. Higher up, the isu-seki (椅子席 / chair seats) trade intimacy for legroom and a wider view. Either way, the etiquette is the same: move between bouts, not during them, and take your trash with you.

The two big traps

Two things land visitors in hot water more than anything else: the zabuton (座布団) throw, and how they treat the wrestlers in the halls. The cushion launch after a yokozuna upset is a real crowd tradition — but it’s officially discouraged for safety, and you should never start it. And in the corridors, where rikishi (力士) pass within arm’s reach, the rule is simple: photos yes, grabbing never.

Quick check

Three questions to make sure you’ve got the festive-but-respectful balance right.

Q1 Should you throw your zabuton (seat cushion) when the yokozuna loses?
Q2 Is it okay to call out 'ganbare!' and clap when the wrestlers charge?
Q3 Can you eat and drink in a masu-seki box seat?