Farewell, Mr. Inoki | Hiroyuki Ishida, Dean, Graduate School of Health Management
2022.11.22
On October 1, the peerless professional wrestler Antonio Inoki passed away (honorifics are partially omitted below). He was 79. Another hero for the Showa generation is gone. For those of you attending university in the Reiwa era, the reaction might be "Pro wrestling?" but it is an undeniable fact that during the Showa era, many people in Japan, myself included, were captivated by Inoki's matches. I imagine that opinions on pro wrestling vary from person to person, but I have learned a great deal from it. The nature of sports as "entertainment" rather than legitimate competition. That a match card is not composed solely of the main event, but always includes "preliminary matches," with midget wrestling being a part of it. I feel it taught me that pro wrestling is a microcosm of society, fundamentally about winning and losing, yet built upon a backdrop of various entanglements, embracing both the good and the bad.
While many reminiscences about Antonio Inoki can already be found in various media, there is a consensus that no wrestler before or since has staged such legendary matches that are still talked about today, including his all-Japanese showdown with Strong Kobayashi, and his mixed martial arts bouts against Munich Olympics judo champion Willem Ruska and heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to attend Antonio Inoki's retirement party at the Tokyo ANA Hotel in 1998. The venue was packed to capacity, with many people of high social standing in attendance. When "Inoki's Theme (Honoo no Fighter)" began to play, the crowd, still in their ties and suits, erupted in a massive chorus of "Inoki Bom-Ba-Ye! Inoki Bom-Ba-Ye!" (Bom-Ba-Ye is said to derive from the Lingala language of the Republic of the Congo, meaning "Kill him"). When Inoki appeared, the excitement in the venue reached its peak, and everyone raised their hands, screaming through tears, "Inoki! Thank you!" The atmosphere in the venue at that moment, unified with Inoki's valiant theme, is beyond description, and I was once again reminded of the incredible power of Inoki's pro wrestling to electrify so many people. Incidentally, the original song for "Inoki's Theme" was included on the soundtrack of the biographical film about the aforementioned professional boxer, Muhammad Ali, titled "The Greatest" (original title). I happened to see this movie in high school (the Japanese title was "Ali, the Greatest") and was surprised to hear "Inoki's Theme," but it turned out that the soundtrack version was the original. The story goes that in 1976, after his match with Inoki (which ended in a draw), Muhammad Ali, in praise of Inoki's courage, gifted him the track "Ali Bombaye I" from the soundtrack, which was then arranged into "Inoki's Theme" as we know it today. Regardless of the truth of this story, the soundtrack is a high-quality work featuring George Benson, and his vocal version of "Inoki's Theme" is transformed into a beautiful ballad.
As I mentioned at the beginning, opinions on pro wrestling may vary, but I consider it to be "the ultimate acrobatics of human combat." While it is sometimes derided as being staged or mere acting, there have been a number of fatal accidents related to dangerous moves, and regardless of such ridicule, no one can deny that the wrestlers are fighting on the very edge. From a medical sciences perspective, the move that I find most dangerous is the back-drop. Throwing moves aimed at a pinfall, to put it bluntly, are intended to cause a concussion and leave the opponent in a groggy state. There are many finishing blows like the brainbuster and the German suplex, but the danger of the back-drop lies in its angle of descent. A concussion is caused by a "distortion" in the brain due to impact, leading to various neurological symptoms including loss of consciousness, but in a typical concussion, these symptoms are transient and resolve on their own. On the other hand, a back-drop with a steep angle of descent not only impacts the brain but also carries the risk of excessive flexion of the cervical spine. This can damage the brainstem, which controls vital functions, leading to quadriplegia or, in the worst case, instant death. The mechanism is the same as in cases where someone dives into a shallow pool, hits their head on the bottom, and suffers a spinal cord injury. Mitsuharu Misawa (the former Tiger Mask) died in such an accident. When I see firsthand that such incidents cannot be prevented even with daily training in how to execute and receive throws, I cannot easily accept the derision directed at pro wrestling.
By the way, on my desk, I have a calligraphy board with the poem "The Way," which Inoki loved and adopted as his motto. It was a souvenir from his retirement party.
The Way: "What will happen if I take this path? Do not fear. If you fear, there will be no path. If you take a step, that one step becomes the path, and that one step will become your way. Go without hesitation. If you go, you will understand. - Antonio Inoki"
When lost and unsure which path to take, many people must have been encouraged by these words from Inoki, or by his slaps. At the same time, there must be just as many who, after taking the path, thought, "This isn't what I expected." I may be one of them. In today's information society, where it has become possible to avoid risks in advance, there are many convenient and efficient aspects. On the other hand, we see people who are unable to cope with unexpected situations that disrupt their well-laid plans and end up stuck. I feel that at a certain stage of one's development, the experience of "Go without hesitation. If you go, you will understand" is not a bad thing.
Photo: The "Fighting Spirit" calligraphy board I received at the retirement party. "Should I really go?" When I hesitated like this, Inoki's words pushed me forward many times. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for the result to belike the ending of a Godard film.