BY KEVIN MANAHAN
Star-Ledger Staff
NEW YORK — You can’t hide crib notes in a mawashi. So, as Kena Heffernan took his position in the dohyo ring last night, wearing only that traditional sumo wrestling loincloth that barely covers what it’s supposed to, he called upon his father’s lessons, tucked away in a corner of his brain.
Sumo wrestling — more than 2,000 years old and steeped in religion — is a sport of tradition, ceremony and honor. And, when you’re a little guy, it’s a sport of tradition, ceremony and honor … and, well, anything you can get away with.
There were 8,043 pounds on exhibition at half-filled Madison Square Garden last night at the World SUMO Challenge’s Battle of the Giants, but only 261 of them belonged to Heffernan. And while the smaller wrestlers won some of the early bouts, the behemoths eventually ruled: Mitshuhiko Fukao, a 5-10, 412-pounder from Japan, won, proving that sumo indeed belongs to the guy with the most Weight Watchers points.
German Torsten Scheibler, 6-7 and 438 pounds, had a loincloth the size of a mud flap on a 16-wheeler. Robert Paczow, of Poland, sported a sneer, 339 pounds and a Steven Segal ponytail. Fellow Pole Marek Kraszewski had more body hair than a Shetland pony.
Hawaiian Oni pa’a Imua Pa’a’aina, a 417-pounder, has this to eat on a typical day: 12 eggs, five cups of rice, a pound or two of bacon for breakfast; 10 double cheeseburgers, a barrel of fries and lots of Coke for lunch; unknown quantities of junk food throughout the day; and steaks, steaks and more steaks for dinner. Dessert is continuous until he falls asleep, he said.
Four wrestlers weighed more than 400 pounds. Seventeen of the 24 weighed more than 300 pounds. And then there was Heffernan, just 5-11 and made skinnier by a bout with the flu this past week.
In the human version of Godzilla vs. Mothra, Heffernan, one of the three Americans in the tournament, is one of those pesky planes swatted aside like a housefly. Most of the guys he wrestles aren’t sure if he’s an opponent or a snack. And while the aim of the sport is simple — knock your opponent out of the ring — the rules don’t really help: Forklifts are illegal.
What’s a little guy to do? Listen to dad, that’s what. Those father-knows-best tips helped Heffernan to a 1-1 record last night. He didn’t advance to the later rounds, but the crowd loved his spunk, chanting, “USA! USA! “each time he faced a larger opponent. In his first bout, he lost to Paczkow, but Heffernan rebounded to stun Jondo Dabrundashvilli of Poland just when it appeared Heffernan was about to lose again.
In fact, he won with one of his dad’s favorite moves — the limbo, bending his back and flipping the opponent over the top. Officials determined that Dabrundashvilli hit the mat first, by a split second.
“When my dad wrestled, he would do whatever it took to win. He stayed within the rules … but barely, “Heffernan said. “He always thought that as one of the smaller guys, he’d have to be quicker, smarter. He was like a pit bull with a hard head and a brain. And he taught us all of the moves. He tried to use them on us.”
Roger Heffernan, now 52, moved from Hawaii to Ohio in the 1970s because the job market on the islands was dry and he had two young boys to feed. A burly guy, barely six feet tall and 270 pounds, he took a job in the steel mills, but eventually was laid off when the U.S. car industry tanked. So, to pay the bills, he did what any strong guy who loves to fight does: He became a bouncer and body guard. His specialty: Ending bar fights in a hurry.
“I’ve seen pictures of myself back then, “he said. “I had a Franco Harris afro. I was scary.”
When the family eventually returned to Hawaii, he chatted with a nephew at a family gathering. The kid, recently graduated from a Japanese university, had studied sumo wrestling.
“Uncle, “he said, “you could be one of the best sumo wrestlers in Hawaii by the end of the year. You could travel to Japan, South America, the United States, all over the world.”
“Big deal, “Heffernan said.
“Did I mention it would all be free?”
“Sign me up.”
And so began Roger Heffernan’s sumo wrestling career. And, sure enough, he traveled to Japan and Brazil and Las Vegas and a half-dozen other places he thought he’d never see in his lifetime. When he practiced, he brought along Jake, the older son, and Kena. When they became teenagers, they climbed into the ring with their dad … and got their ears boxed, their heads slapped, their feet stepped on. They were tossed around like Frisbees. It was Sumo for Small Guys 101.
“My father always leads with his head, “Kena said. “He used to be able to beat us, but now he’s losing a step, so he has to cheat even more. He’ll do whatever it takes to try to win … head-butt you, step on your foot. He’ll false-start and punch you in the face, anything. And he’s always trash-talking, trying to get into your head. But that doesn’t work anymore. It used to. We used to get so mad and get distracted. But we’ve learned.”
Roger Heffernan, now a supervisor in a youth correctional facility, laughed when he heard his son’s comments.
“All true, “he said from his home in Laie, Hawaii. “I had to false-start because I’m smaller. You have to get the jump on the other guy. When you get older and lose some of your strength, you have to rely on other things, like your intelligence. I was trying to teach them that.”
In sumo, there is no penalty for false starts. Wrestlers merely retake their four-point stances and the match reloads. But it’s a sound strategy for another reason: There’s always the chance a false start will be so subtle the referees won’t catch it.
Heffernan’s secret, taught to his sons: “You have to get off your butt first. As the other wrestler is getting up and getting ready to charge, in that split second, you have to lunge at him, knock him off balance. If you hit him as he’s getting up, you can get the advantage, even as a little guy. But I also played mind games.
“I’d false-start a guy over and over, slap him in the head each time. And each time, he’s getting madder and madder. When I see the steam coming out of his ears and his face is red, that’s when I know I’ve got him. He’s so angry now, he wants to kill me, so I know he’s going to charge me hard. So I let him, sidestep him and use his momentum to throw him out of the ring.”
Said Kena: “I’ve seen my dad do some crazy things in the ring. You don’t forget.”
These are some of the tactics that have allowed Kena Heffernan to beat sumo wrestlers weighing more than 500 pounds. The two-time high school wrestling champ already has a reputation for being a tough — albeit small — opponent.
Exposed to sumo at 3 years old, Kena kept the sport a secret, afraid his buddies would laugh at the image of him in a mawashi, clashing belly buttons with the big boys. Many sumo stars from outside of Asia admit they were in the sumo closet as youngsters.
“People think this is a lot of fat guys in diapers, “said Imua Pa’a’aina. “It’s combat. It’s two freight trains colliding. Two monsters. People here in the United States think it’s comical, funny. But it’s an ancient sport that deserves respect. You have to prove it in the ring. This is about top athletes in their sport going head to head. It’s competition at its most basic level.”
But it’s strange to Americans. That’s why, even while Kena Heffernan played football for Yale in the 1990s, none of his teammates knew. The starting fullback in 1995, his senior season, Heffernan used his sumo training while blocking and churning for those tough short-yardage or goal-line yards. Not many sumo wrestlers have Ivy League degrees.
His two career highlights: gambling and calling for a fake punt that beat Holy Cross, and a 4-yard touchdown run in the final minutes to stun unbeaten Princeton. The victory over the Tigers was especially sweet.
“We arrived at Princeton on Friday and it was raining, “Rick Rose, a former Yale cornerback recalled. “There was this guy standing near our locker room door at the stadium with a Yale hat on. We thought maybe it was an alum who was there to greet us. We thought, ‘That’s cool.’ But as we got closer, we realized it was Keith Elias, their star running back. He took off the Yale hat, threw it into a puddle, stomped on it and walked away without saying a word.
“Kena, I think, wanted to go after him right then, but he saved it for the field.”
Restraint was part of his sumo training.
“In sumo, someone who doesn’t know what’s going on shouldn’t be able to tell who has won and who has lost, “Heffernan said. “You win with dignity, you lose with grace. There’s little of that in sports today.”
So what did he do with the football after scoring against Princeton?
“Flipped it to the official, “he said. “Dad taught me that, too.”
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