Meet the British teenager on a quest to become a sumo wrestling star

Telegraph

5 hours ago

Like so many fathers and sons before them, Georgi Zilkin and Nicholas Tarasenko had an earnest conversation a while ago about what Nicholas was planning to do with his life. 'He said, 'Well, I want to get into sport,'' Georgi recalls.
Nicholas, now 15, has always been big for his age, and disciplined with it. He has thrived at rugby, mixed martial arts and judo. Georgi, however, did not see a future in those pursuits. 'Like any normal father I said, 'No, there is no money in that, you need to get a job...' He pauses, before brightening. 'Then sumo wrestling turned up.'
If a life and career training to go professional in Japan's ancient national sport strikes you as an unlikely choice for a GCSE student from Hull in want of secure employment, you would have a good point. But Georgi, despite his protestations, isn't a particularly normal father. Nicholas, meanwhile, is far, far from a normal 15-year-old.
Two years after he first stepped into a dohyō, the circular space where a sumo wrestling bout takes place, Nicholas has become just the second Briton to be awarded a rare scholarship at a prestigious sumo academy in Japan. He will join the Minato-beya stable in Saitama, just north of Tokyo, this month. There, all being well, he'll train for around a year before advancing to become a professional. 'And then I'll just become a professional and be in Japan forever,' Nicholas says.
We are speaking two days before the pair fly to Japan. They've been several times before, as Nicholas's interest, and potential, in sumo grew. Georgi, 47, a wrestling fan originally from Estonia, where sumo is popular after the success of the Estonian ' rikishi '(wrestler) Baruto Kaito, felt satisfied that his son would be set for life if he could crack Japan.
'They actually take good care of you over there, and it's a job, there's money in it. So I said, 'Yeah, why not.' In different sports there is no certainty, but sumo is a career. He will be fine,' Georgi, a karaoke bar owner, says.
Nobody doubts that Nicholas has the size: at 15 years old, he stands at 6ft 3in and a little over 19 stone (120kg). 'I've still got a lot to grow,' he promises. His height is already fine, but by his mid-20s he's aiming to be 25 stone (158kg), roughly average for a rikishi. Better get eating.
'Yeah, but I'm good at eating. I was 80kg last year, then I ate 6,000 calories a day and got to 120kg.' Those calories mainly came in the form of eggs – at least six every morning – and 'loads of chicken'. In Japan, rikishi eat chankonabe, a protein-packed chicken broth soup filled with fish, tofu, vegetables and chicken, often served with beer and rice.
The average wrestler might have 10 bowls of it per meal, and 10,000 or so calories, every day. It is said that the retired wrestler Takamisugi once ate 65 bowls in one sitting. Needless to say, there is no upper weight limit in sumo wrestling. 'I'm going to be taught how to make that,' Nicholas says, sounding pleased as punch.
Sumo was almost exclusively a Japanese sport for centuries until 1993 when Akebono, a wrestler from Hawaii, became the first foreigner to become a yokozuna – or grand champion, the highest rank in the sport. Since then, Mongolians began to dominate the top tier. In May, Onosato Daiki became the first Japanese man in eight years to be named a yokozuna.
There are now rules permitting only one foreigner for each of the 47 'sumo stables'. Nicholas will therefore be the only person among the 11-strong 2025 intake, and wider coaching and teaching staff, who speaks any English. He's been learning Japanese for a year. 'I can have a bit of a conversation,' he says.
Life in a stable is notoriously tough and monastic, with many practices and rituals within the sport derived from Shintoism, Japan's official religion. Generally, Nicholas can expect to be up at around 5am to help prepare the training spaces, before stretching gives way to gym work, bone-crunching ring practice and, finally, breakfast.
As a newcomer, he'll also be schooled in the rituals and respect of the sport, instructed in how to cook, and shown how to behave in public as a revered rikishi – major celebrities in Japan.
A key bonding element in sumo, especially after new wrestlers have shaved their heads (they then grow their hair out as they are reborn, creating the famous topknot), is karaoke. 'And luckily I own a karaoke bar, so that is fine for him,' Georgi says, cheerfully.
Nicholas agrees. What will he sing? 'Well, being from England, they want me to do the Beatles. So I'm practising Yesterday.'
Socialising outside of the stable is frowned upon, while discipline is enforced in the strictest terms. The dropout rate is high. In the past, some stables have had a reputation for bullying. The only other British man to win a place at a Japanese sumo stable, Nathan Strange, who enrolled in 1989, dropped out after feeling alienated.
'I'm excited to see how my character shifts, how my mentality changes in such a rough environment,' Nicholas says. 'My stable has been very nice and welcoming so far, they're tough on training, but those scandals won't happen there.'
Georgi can be heard sighing. 'Things happen everywhere. If you're afraid of wolves, don't go to the forest and pick berries, you know what I mean? But the berries are needed, you have to live your life. But no, I'm not worried, he already does long hours of training here, and the people who are looking after him are really nice.'
It's different from sixth form college in the East Riding of Yorkshire. I wonder what Nicholas's friends at school think. 'I mean, to be fair, in school I don't really have mates,' he admits. 'I'm not too fussed about it, no one in school is a good influence. I've made friends in the stable, but I distance myself from others.'
I can't imagine they'd pick on him. 'Oh,' he adds, 'many people still pick on me.'
He joins a sport that is more popular than ever. All 90 days of bouts in 2024 were sold out, providing the Japan Sumo Association with record revenues after a worrying pandemic dip. Tickets now sell out in minutes, and attending an evening of sumo has become popular again with young people in Japan – particularly women. In October, London's Royal Albert Hall will host a tournament, the first outside Japan in 20 years.
Nicholas, who has always competed in different combat sports, primarily judo, entered a sumo competition on a relative whim when visiting Estonia two years ago. He won against adult men, which piqued the interest of the international sumo community and brought him to the attention of Japanese coaches. Back in the UK, Georgi set his son up with Scott Findlay, the president of British Sumo, who started mentoring him.
'From day one, it was clear Nicholas had something incredibly rare – not just natural ability, but a deep instinct for sumo, and a level of discipline and focus beyond his years,' Findlay, who oversees a growing sport in Britain that only a few hundred participate in, says. They'd meet and train 'as often as we could', leading to Nicholas winning medals at the British Sumo Championships and representing Britain at the Junior European Championships.
'There's not really a sport like it, it's not like boxing, judo, jiu-jitsu, those are all similar, but there's a different objective in sumo,' Nicholas says. Georgi murmurs his agreement. 'If you miss a punch in those sports, you get another go. This is different.' In sumo, outside of the elaborate pre-fight rituals – which generally take longer than the bout – the objective is beautifully simple: get the other guy out of the circle, and ASAP. 'There are no second chances,' Georgi says.
Georgi, along with Nicholas's mother, Antonina, a teaching assistant, have supported their son's unusual ambition from the start. Is Antonina as keen as Georgi? 'Um, she is, but she wants her baby son next to her. She's worried about him. But he knows what he's doing, he has an opportunity in front of him, he'll be fine,' Georgi says.
I assume they've spent a fortune on international travel, not to mention chicken and eggs, too. It must add up, with four other children (Nicholas is the second-youngest), including a younger son, David, who's also showing promise in the sport.
'Well, if I wasn't a sumo fan I'd say, 'Nah, I'm not doing that', but because I know his potential I have put a chunk of money on travel and accommodation, so we've been a bit strapped for cash for the last year. But now the sumo stable will pay, so that's easier,' Georgi says.
Once Nicholas is there, the stable will cover everything. Georgi will fly his son out on Thursday and return on his own. Nicholas can video call home, but the next time he sees his parents will be when he graduates from the stable, then begins to climb the long, steep ladder as a sumo wrestler.
It can be a brutal life – only when rikishi rise to the top two of the sport's six divisions are they allowed to get married and have a family, and retirement hits in your 30s, if you're lucky with injuries, but health problems often follow. The life expectancy of a sumo wrestler is some 10 years younger than the average Japanese man.
'Sumo isn't just a sport, it's a lifestyle. You can't just do a little bit of it, it's all or nothing,' Nicholas says. Even over the phone, he radiates a kind of brutal calm. No nerves, then? 'Well, when you're anxious, it's the same part of your brain that says you're excited,' he reasons. 'So when I think I'm anxious or nervous, I just tell myself it's excitement, then it goes away.'
That technique may just prove useful.