No Fat Chicks Here!

It is not nice to tick off a sumo wrestler.

By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com).

It was a Friday night at the midwestern college campus, and for the first time in a long time, Donnie Hawkins had nothing to do, and no place to go. The 6'3", 250-pound defensive end normally had a party to go to, and a woman to party with. Because of his success on the gridiron, his prospects of playing under the bright lights of a stadium belonging to a professional team were looking pretty bright. He managed to maintain his C average through all his classes, so if he just held on the remainder of his senior year, he could get his degree, and smile pretty to the first pro team who picks him. Still, it didn't solve his problems for tonight, however.

He brushed his short brown hair back as he flipped through all the cable channels of the television in the football dorm. There wasn't anything interesting on the tube either. Surely there must be something to do!

As if in answer to his silent plea, two of his friends and fellow players, John Huddleston, and Bart Wadley, 6'2" and 6'4" respectively, trotted down the stairs. They both played on the defensive line, and John was Cherokee Indian with long black hair, while Bart was black with a tight buzz cut. Their future was looking bright with future prospects as well playing professional football.

"Hey, where are you two going?" Donnie asked, hoping they found a party somewhere to go to. Being a big man on campus, they wouldn't mind if he crashed it.

"There's a new event on campus, and everybody was invited. All they told us was it's a sporting event, and there will be plenty of women there," John said.

"Plenty of women? Dudes, please, take me with you! I'm dying of boredom here!"

Bart smiled at John. "Hey, he's been good, I think he can go," he said.

"Let me throw on a clean pair of jeans, and I'll be right with you," Donnie replied. "You think we can grab a couple of brews on the way?"

"Dude, we're going to be on campus; we're under a microscope as it is, without sneaking off to the local liquor store to grab a few cold ones. You remember what happened to Doug when the coach found out," John said.

"That's right, we have to stay dry for a while," Donnie reflected, a little disappointed. "But they still have chicks, so it can't be all bad."

"Hurry up and get dressed man, I want to get a good seat," Bart said.

The unknown sporting event seemed to have a lot of people attending it as the three football players walked into the small gym. True enough, there were a large number of women there, particularly because they were told that the sport in question involved women. As everyone took their seat on the bleachers, they saw that the floor in front of them was empty except for several wrestling mats placed together. In the center of the mats was a circle made with duct tape, similar to wrestling tournaments, except the circle was smaller, about twelve feet in diameter.

"So they told you it was a new sport, but they didn't tell you what it was?" Donnie said, turning to Bart. They managed to find a seat on the front row. Well, not managed exactly. The three smiled at some people on the front row, and they made room to honor the three football stars.

"That's all we know, man. That, and there's plenty of chicks," Bart replied.

"It's looks like wrestling, but the circle is smaller. What else can it be?"

"Looks like we'll find out, it's almost time for whatever it is to start," John said.

At the time they said, a blond woman strode out onto the mats to a microphone standing nearby. She was tall, about 5'9", and dressed in a dark blue leotard with a thick bright blue piece of cloth wrapped around her waist and under her crotch. Her figure was well-proportioned, but large. One could obviously see from her bare arms and legs that she worked out quite a bit. She took her toes and moved the microphone cord out of the way at the same time she took her left hand and brushed her hair back from her face. She smiled a little at the catcalls and whistles from the men in the audience.

"Good evening. Thank you for coming," she began. "My name is Lindsay, and I'm here to help promote a new sport. Well, it's not new, it's over three thousand years old, but it's finally spreading across this country like wildfire. Men have been performing this sport for a long time, but now women participants are becoming popular, and let me say, they are darn good. The sport I'm talking about is sumo wrestling."

Lindsay paused to hear the murmur, giggles, and remarks circulated among the crowd.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. Sumo wrestling is more than a sport with two fat people banging into each other. It's actually a sport that involves speed, strength, and technique. And not everybody in it is a participant for the fat farm. Sumo wrestlers are athletes who are in excellent shape. But better than tell you, let me show you instead. Ladies!"

At her signal, a group of twenty women came out and formed a circle, the faces facing the audience. Their outfits ranged from leotards to sweat suits to a plain T-shirt and shorts. All were barefoot. The women were literally different shapes and sizes; from those who appeared to be skinny to the heavyset. Some were as short as 5'1", while others approached six feet. But none could be classified as "skinny" or "fat" upon closer inspection. For those who didn't bother to look, the reaction was different.

"Hey look, fat chicks!" Donnie yelled, getting a few laughs from the surrounding audience. Bart and John looked at him.

"Hey keep it down man, the show hasn't started yet," Bart warned.

"Besides, I see some women who aren't fat at all," John reflected. "Actually, I don't see any fat women at all. Stout, maybe, but not fat."

"Okay, so they're fat chicks in training," Donnie remarked.

The mistress of ceremonies walked around the circle, introducing each wrestler, and telling a little bit about them. A number of them were students, some were college graduates and a couple were high school students. One was a housewife who wanted "something to do," and found this as an excellent way to spend her time, and keep in shape. There were women who were weightlifters for the college, and others who were bodybuilders who grew tired of the dietary and weight aspects of the sport. Many of them came from martial arts backgrounds like judo, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and karate.

"Now tonight we're going to have ten matches. Before you check your watch, let me inform you that the average sumo match lasts from three to five seconds. A long match lasts only a minute. But I think you'll find soon that those few seconds will be very exciting," Lindsay continued. "Now I'm going to get out of the way here, and let you see what we've got. I will have an important announcement at the end of the matches here, but for now, let the matches begin!"

At the sound of applause, the ladies waked off the mats to prepare for their individual matches. In the brief minute between that and the first match, Donnie turned to his two friends.

"Hey, you ready to go?" He asked.

"Ready to go?" John asked.

"Yeah! You don't want to see these fat ladies pushing each other, do you?"

"Yeah I do."

"We can go to one of those bars where they have those "sumo suits,' and bang into each other."

"This is the real thing, man," Bart replied. "We're going to watch some of these matches. A few of these girls are in my class; I'd like to see how they do. If you want to go, the dorm is not that far away."

Donnie thought about it for a second, and remembered that there wasn't anything going on at the dorm, so he prepared himself for the long evening.

At the start of the first match, each wrestler was announced, and escorted to the ring by two men who took their robe if they had one, and made sure everything was in order for the match. A woman dressed in white polo shirt, white pants, and white socks stood in the ring as the referee. The first two wrestlers were actually members of the schools' gymnastic team. They both wore their practice leotards with the addition of the cloth belt wrapped around their waist; one wore gray, the other wore bright silver. Being typical gymnasts, both were short, and petite looking, except for the large leg muscles. However, any preconceptions of being delicate ended when the referee said, "Go!"

The two women collided into each other at full speed, their small feet churning, each trying to overcome the other. The basic concept of any sumo match was to either force the opponent out of the ring, or to take them off their feet in a takedown. Other than blows and kicks being forbidden, that was basically it. Yet as the gymnasts went at it, it was obvious that although the concept was simple, defeating your opponent wasn't.

The audience didn't sit by passively either. People who knew one of the wrestlers personally, had seen them in action in their primary sport, or those who just made a choice for whatever reason were cheering them on. Finally, after an eternity (which in reality was only five seconds), the gymnast with the silver belt, or mawashi, gripped the gray belt of the other, and lifted her opponent up and tossed her to the side in a sacrifice throw. The other gymnast stumbled and rolled out of the ring. After the referee declared the match over and the woman with the silver belt the winner, the other gymnast came back, gave her a hug, and both were escorted off the mat to the sound of avid applause. The match also done what it meant to accomplish, and left the audience hungry for more.

Two of the three student athletes on the front row applauded the first match. Donnie, who was more athlete than student, said, "Is that it?"

"Weren't you listening man? The woman said each match took only a few seconds," Bart responded.

"Oh yeah. Well then, bring on more of the fat chicks!" The last part he said loudly, disturbing some of the nearby spectators.

"Come on, Donnie; show some respect," John said.

"For what? All they're going to be doing is pushing each other back and forth. Now if they ripped each other's clothes off, that would be entertaining!"

Any reply either football player was going to give was interrupted by the start of the next match. Both women were a little taller than the gymnasts, but a little more stout. One of the women, a 5'5" woman of Polynesian descent, took off her glasses and handed them to one of her escorts before she took off her robe.

"Hey, I have her in two of my classes!" John said.

"Me too, that's Bridgett, isn't it?" Bart asked.

"I think so."

"You're telling me that's "Bridgett the Bookworm,' who never met a book she didn't like?" Donnie asked.

"Looks like it," John answered.

"Oh man, she needs to get back to her books; she'll be thrown out of the ring!"

Bridgett also had a reputation for wearing bulky clothes that hid her true figure. When someone asked her about it, her response was that was the way she liked her clothes. When she took off her robe, revealing a silver one-piece swimsuit with a black belt, what everyone saw was a full-figured woman with a wrestler's build; powerful, with everything in the right places.

"Wow, I never thought she looked like that," Bart remarked. "I thought she'd be some chubby chick."

"Me too."

"Oh come on, guys, she's not a model. She could still lose a few pounds. Look at that gut!" Donnie said.

"Donnie?" Bart replied, "Look again."

"Look again? What are you talking about?"

"That's not a gut, that's muscle."

If Bridgett heard any of Donnie's remarks, she didn't show any indication. Instead, her focus was totally on the woman in front of her. She was a shorthaired blond woman three inches taller, and maybe a little heavier. Bridgett got into her squat, her eyes never leaving her opponent. The referee shouted go.

The match was over in about a second or two. Bridgett took three steps, grabbed her opponent and tossed her out of the ring before anyone knew what happened. Even the referee took a second to realize the blond woman was rolling to the end of the mat while Bridgett stood there patiently waiting for be declared the winner.

"I think I'm going to be nicer to her from no on," John said, still trying to process what he saw.

"Me too," Bart agreed.

As the evening went on, so did the matches. As they went up by weight class, some matches were decided conclusively like Bridgett's were, while others were more closely fought. One of the wrestlers was a football cheerleader. As she threw her foe out of the ring, one man commented, "Boy, I'd like to have her throw me around!" While the people laughed, they were also realizing that these sumo matches were really fun to watch, gaining at least an understanding why stadiums in Japan were filled watching the men compete. Unfortunately as the evening grew more exciting, Donnie grew more annoying, with his "fat chicks" remarks and insults of the sport.

The final matches were in the heavyweight class, with the last one being an open weight class. The last heavyweight match of the evening was between a 5'10" light-skinned black woman named Peaches with long brown hair, and a darker skinned black woman named Coco, who stood at 5'11", who had her hair put up in a bun. Both women were large, and carried their weight well. No one could accuse them of being out of shape, despite Donnie yelling, "fat chicks!" in the background. Peaches was wearing an orange sports bra and matching shorts with a white belt, while Coco wore a royal blue sports bra with matching biker shorts with a black belt. The outfits displayed the solid abs of the participants. Both women shook hands before they took their spots. When the match started, people could swear they heard the collision both bodies made when they met in the center. Like the first match, it was closely fought; unlike the first match, it lasted for two minutes. The bout went back and forth, while the crowd was cheering loudly. The match finally ended when one of Peaches' toes topped with orange toenail polish touched the ring's boundary line. The two exhausted wrestlers gave each other a firm hug, and gave a nod to the audience who gave them a rousing ovation.

The one open weight bout was between one of the heavyweights, a large redhead, and Bridgett. Since the redhead was heavier, no one expected Bridgett to throw her as quickly as her last opponent. They were wrong. When the referee shouted go, Bridgett rushed under the outstretched arms of her opponent, grabbed her belt with both hands, and did a variation of a judo throw to slam the woman on the mat. This time, the referee was a little quicker on the uptake, and declared Bridgett the winner immediately as her foe hit the mat.

"Okay, it is official; don't mess with Bridgett," Bart said, giving John a high five, and totally ignoring Donnie, who kept making loud comments on the redhead's large posterior. After the last two wrestlers left, Lindsay returned with Coco.

"So what do you think? Is this sumo for real?" She asked the crowd, who roared with applause and cheers. "When we have our regular bouts, we won't be having this, but tonight, we're offering the men a chance to tangle with one of our sumo girls. I brought Coco here with me, but you do have the offer to take on one of our other ladies if you like. Now who wants to try their luck?"

Almost before the words left her mouth, and before anyone else had the chance to think about it, one man sprang from the audience and bolted towards the mat. He appeared in front of Coco with a devilish gleam in his eyes. Lindsay was about to remark on the man's eagerness when suddenly Coco said, "No."

"No?" Lindsay asked, stunned.

"No. I want him."

And she pointed her finger at Donnie.

"Him?" Lindsay repeated.

"Yes, him. He's done nothing but insult us and call us names like "lard butt' and "fat chicks.' Well if he's willing to put his money where his mouth is, I'd like to teach him what sumo is all about. I want to show him what this "fat chick' can do."

"What about me?" The man pleaded.

"You'll still have your chance," Coco replied. "You can take on Peaches, Bridgett, or one of the others."

"I want Peaches; Bridgett scares me."

"She scares us too. Let me teach this man a lesson first, okay?"

Lindsay turned to Donnie. "Well, you coming?"

Donnie was surprised by all this, but popular athlete, future pro pick and all, he still had his pride and an image to maintain, especially where the ladies were concerned.

"You want a piece of me, baby? I'm happy to oblige. It might be too much for you to handle," he said, strutting to the mat.

Coco rolled her eyes. Lindsay went ahead and started to escort the other man to meet Peaches, but not before she spoke to Coco.

"Slam him. Slam him hard," she whispered.

"With pleasure, but I think I'm going to have a little fun with him first," Coco replied.

There was one man who was chanting "Donnie, Donnie," but an elbow from his girlfriend shut him up. The football player's obnoxious behavior annoyed almost everybody.

As they entered the ring, Coco sat in a squat, then leaned slightly forward with both hands lightly touching the mat with her head up ' the ready stance for sumo wrestlers ' and stared at her opponent. For Donnie, this part seemed like familiar territory, so he fell into his normal stance when he played on the defensive line in football. As soon as the referee said go, he shot forward toward his opponent. Coco stood up, and turned to the side. The next thing Donnie knew, he was headed toward the wall of the gym, and way outside of the ring. To the audience, it was a riot.

"Hey Donnie, where you going?" Bart asked.

"Yeah, Coco is over here!" John said, pointing to the sumo wrestler who was trying to suppress a giggle.

"Maybe he's trying to beat us home!" Bart added, trying to keep his sides from bursting.

Embarrassed, humiliated, and a little angry, Donnie made his way back to the ring. He regained his crouch, and said to Coco, "Let's try that again!"

"Of course. Maybe we can wrestle this time," she replied.

Donnie held his tongue. In football, he normally had some blockers in the way who he had to push out of the way to get to the quarterback, receiver, or whoever had the ball. He reminded himself that this would be like those one on one drills the coach puts them through. The woman didn't stand a chance.

The referee shouted go again, and this time Donnie zeroed in on his target, and this time Coco let him. They met in the center, Donnie with arms outstretched to push Coco out of the ring. To his surprise, Coco met him solidly, and they struggled for a bit. Donnie shifted his body to better push Coco. Unfortunately, Coco saw it coming and shifted her body to watch him fall to the mat like a stone. Donnie took some comfort in that they weren't laughing as hard this time.

"One more time," Coco said.

"You got it; I'm not fooling around with you this time," he replied. Instead of pushing her, he'll just pick her up and throw her out. She was much stronger than she looked, but this time next year, he'll be playing for the pros. No one can mess with him.

They returned to their spots, the referee said go, and both wrestlers met in the middle, Donnie a little slower than before to implement his strategy. As they met, he groped around on Coco, attempting to gain a grip to lift her. Coco realized what he was doing, but it was no big deal. There were almost ninety different ways of subduing your foe in sumo wrestling, and Coco knew them all. In the blink of an eye, she planted her foot between Donnie's feet, placed her left hand on Donnie's right arm, used the other to grab the belt that held up his jeans, and pivoted hard to her left. All Donnie remembered was striking the mat hard, and staring up at the lights in the gym. For a second, he thought they installed twice as many lights than usual, but after a second or two, they returned to their regular number.

Coco could not help herself, nor did she desire to hold back. She stepped forward, and placed her right foot on Donnie's chest, her blue nail polish shining in the lights of the gym. She delivered a victory pose, pumping her biceps to the crowd.

"Maybe now you'll think twice before you dis' another person's sport, now that you know what we "fat chicks' can do, huh?" she said to Donnie in a low voice before she turned and left the mat. Okay, she's not fat, Donnie thought as he lay there, but she did have a nice butt. He also knew his viewpoint was probably the closest he would ever get to it.

The rest of the evening went well. Peaches threw the other volunteer out of the ring all three tries, though from the look on his face, and he asking for her number afterwards, she could've threw him all night, and he wouldn't have minded in the least. In fact, there were a lot of volunteers, men and women who wanted a go, but Lindsay told them there was only time for two. At the end, Lindsay delivered her recruitment speech, telling them when tryouts were, and other details. At the end when everyone got to meet the wrestlers, women who wanted to tryout, and men who wanted to recruit their sisters and girlfriends to tryout mobbed Lindsay. She also left a number with the men who wanted to try sumo wrestling themselves. Aside from some of them practically having to beat the men off with a stick, the female sumo wrestlers themselves were a hit.

At the end, Donnie made himself scarce and waited for his friends in the car to avoid embarrassment. After graduation, he and Bart and John would get drafted and play professional football, along with receiving all the fame they could stand. But Donnie would never forget the little lesson he learned from Coco that night. Eventually he became an avid fan of female sumo wrestling.

But don't let him catch you calling them "fat chicks."

For suggestions, comments, or story ideas, email the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.

#Barefoot Heroines, 2008.