Hazing in a rugby team

For the last couple of years we have all watched hazing in sports finally come into focus. The antics that have for so long gone on behind closed doors, and that have been dismissed by most as "boys will be boys," are finally starting to get the serious attention from sports administrators and the public that it deserves and that its victims need.

What isn't being talked about much is the elephant in the room, the issue that most people are thinking about when they hear about stories of what sports teams are doing to one another usually at night behind those closed doors: Both latent homosexuality and homophobia are playing a huge role in the hazing abuse our kids are experiencing, and our societal standards that dictate what a "real man" is are to blame.

Hazing is, for practical purposes, coercing or forcing younger athletes or students to do embarrassing things for the right to be a part of the group. Hazing can range from seemingly innocuous acts like wearing a dunce cap or eating a raw egg to dangerous or life-threatening things like drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, branding, or crazy stunts that involve water, fire or oncoming traffic. Hazing is against the policy of most colleges, and anti-hazing statutes exist in 38 states.

The Web site Badjocks.com has played a huge role in forcing the public and sports teams and leagues to start having frank discussions about hazing. And while the few dozen incidents they and other media outlets have reported are an improvement over the dearth of reports just three years ago, the number of hazing incidents that has come to public light pales in comparison to the actual number that is happening at high schools, colleges and on professional teams around the country. In fact, an Alfred University study said that 80 percent of college athletes had been hazed.

Make no mistake about it – hazing is largely about sexuality, from two different angles. First is the notion of making someone submissive to prove your own masculinity. Whether it's sodomizing them or making them wear women's panties, the notion of forcing younger players to submit to team veterans comes right out of the handbook of anti-gay stereotypes.

Many of the acts that younger players are submitted to are also homoerotic or homosexual. Licking each other's bodies, simulating sex acts, forced sodomy with various objects – these acts work on two levels. First, they reinforce the notion that same-sex affection is weaker; the subjected men are rarely "hazed" with forced affection from someone of the opposite sex. Second, they serve to satisfy the latent homosexuality of many of the players involved.

While some may try to diminish the role of homosexuality in hazing, it can't be ignored. Badjocks.com says that the most common reported hazing incident among high school students is sodomy with fingers or other objects.

"As a way of welcoming you to the team, my associates and I would like to give you your first proctology exam!" Badjocks.com jokes.

I don't care how you slice it, there has to be some desire to sodomize the victim if you're willing to go that far with other people watching! Like rape (which it is), I find hazing of this kind to be not only an act of violence but a sexual act as well.

When I was a teenager, and I first started feeling a sexual attraction to other boys, I often thought that going to prison would not be such a bad thing. I had heard of the "forced" gay sex that happens in prisons, and I figured it would be the only chance I had to fulfill my growing desire to have sex with men. The forced sexual contact of hazing is certainly another way to fulfill those desires; it's no wonder that so many gay men are attracted to college fraternities, long the bastion of hazing in our culture.

It's not just the guys. In the last few months, reports of hazing on women's teams have started to capture headlines, most notably the Northwestern University's women's soccer team, which was suspended after photographs of alleged hazing surfaced.

While 10 years ago most people who reported hazing at the high school and collegiate level were considered "whistle-blowers" and threats to the performance of a team, that attitude is largely changing. Our culture seems to have started to handle hazing in two different ways, depending on who's involved.

High school and collegiate teams that coerce athletes to run around in their jockstraps are suspended and vilified in the media, some of them having their season cancelled. But when professional teams do the same exact thing, they are laughed at, as though hazing is a big joke that everyone is in on.

In 2000, various Tennessee Titans were recorded taping rookie OG Aaron Koch from Oregon State to a field goal post, pouring chocolate syrup on him, and spraying him with water. What was maybe worse was how ESPN's Sean Salisbury and NBA great Mark Malone celebrated and glorified it.

How can we celebrate hazing at the professional level, yet tell 17- and 21-year-olds that it's not OK if they do it? We can't chuckle with the Associated Press when they post pictures of rookies in training camp having to encircle the field in their underwear or sing karaoke in front of a stadium of fans, and then wonder where our kids got the crazy idea that it's alright to force new teammates to endure harassment and ridicule.

The deeper problems with hazing are the culture it breeds and the slippery slope it can lead to. The infamous 2003 hazing incident involving the Mepham High School (N.Y.) football

team is a quintessential example. At a summer football camp in August 2003, team veterans sodomized younger players with broomsticks, golf balls and pinecones. It came almost 10 years after a player accused the coaching staff and several members of the same football program of a hazing attack that gave him a concussion; that case was settled out of court. After the 2003 incident, former players finally started talking about the culture of Mepham coach Kevin McElroy's football team, and how hazing had been a part of it for many years. It had likely started out "harmless" before involving physical attacks. Incoming freshman learned from the veterans that these things were part of being on the team; and when they became the veterans, the cycle continued down the slippery slope.

Experiencing the harassment and ridicule of hazing brings people closer, claim proponents of hazing (and there are many more than you could imagine), and it is argued that that bond is sacrosanct to the success of sports teams and fraternities.

This "bonding" argument has always troubled me. In a fraternity, the guys live together, shower together, eat together, study together. When one of their girlfriends breaks up with them, they're all there for him. When one of their parents passes away suddenly, they all attend the funeral. They become a family as close as they'll ever see outside the family structure they lived with for their first 18 years.

It's the same thing with athletics. A team practices together every day, eats meals together, travels together, rooms together, wins together, loses together, gets injured together, and builds a bond that each member will remember for their lifetime.

No amount of paddling, licking whipped cream off of each other, or running around in your jockstrap is going to add to the closeness of these experiences. A team is built around a common goal and the struggles that ensue from chasing that goal, not from the nonsense that surrounds it.

As long as gay people are marginalized by sports culture, and as long as being submissive to a man is considered feminine, hazing will continue, not only because it emasculates the victim, but because the perpetrator feels no other acceptable way to live out his same-sex desires.

Atitlan wrote about these photos he reposted:

    I have found some more photos of a British rugby initiation. They were
uploaded by Johannes to his websites and then posted on to the [ymna2] Yahoo group by me in 2005.

    Most of Johannes' collection was about student initiations in

Europe and the USA and much of it can still be found at this address
(the links to certain of the picture folders seem not to be available
any longer):
http://members.lycos.nl/gaypoet

---------- The above amateur sports hazing photos were forwarded in  a group email message from: atitlan on his [ymna] Google group and [ymna2] Yahoo group ----------

--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "ymna" group.
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/ymna?hl=en-
GB.

 

 

Naked in Locker Rooms: Voices from the past, Part 1b

runr

naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:01AM

Something has been bugging me for quite some time, but I can't exactly bring up the subject with the culprits: What's with all the guys who resist wearing towels in the locker rooms of athletic clubs? I'm using the plural because, though I only belong to one club, I assume the phenomenon is widespread. I'm not a prude, but there's something really creepy about flabby 60-year-olds standing shaving/gabbing/strolling etc. buck naked when they could easily wrap towels around their waists. My theory, for what it's worth, is that many of these people have not participated in high school or college athletics, thereby learning a few important things about locker room etiquette. I ran track and xc in college not long ago, and everybody wore towels except, naturally, in the shower. There's just no reason to display your garbage to the world if you don't have to. If you're one of the no-towel types, I'd like to hear why you do it.

girlie	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:03AM - in reply to runr
	Women do it too. Pretty gross.

You Can't Be Serious	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:03AM - in reply to runr
	naked guy in the locker room who invades my space and insists and getting far to close to me or others is truly disgusting. serious social violation.

Flagpole Willy	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:07AM - in reply to runr
	Personally I wear a towel all the time except for the few seconds I don't have to while getting dressed or getting in the shower, but that is only because Flagpole Willy cares about everyone and their feelings. Don't want everyone else feeling badly about their shortcomings you know.

                                           

mmm, naked 60 yr olds

RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:07AM - in reply to You Can't Be Serious

People that age grew up with different norms for locker room behavior. When they were kids they actually showered after gym class. I doubt it was because they lack your vast experience as an athlete; if anything, people who never spent time in locker rooms tend to cower in corners. Besides, if I haven't showered yet, I don't wrap my towel around my sweaty body. Why get the towel dirty to avoid offending your sexual insecurities?

Pauncho	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 6:09AM - in reply to runr
	It was easy to wrap a towel around myself when I was a young runner. When you grow a gut, you can't keep the damn towel on, and it just falls on the floor anyway.

Sound and Vision

RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 7:11AM - in reply to You Can't Be Serious

This is an interesting viewpoint. I am a twenty-something and in college and in high school, the people who wore towels, of which I once was, were looked upon with contempt and disgust. I think the rationale was that those individuals had very small penises and were hiding them or else they were afraid of revealing their erections it was presumed they might be having (although I am not sure a towel would do much to hide an erection, that was the logic used by teenagers). Before long, I ditched the towel and found it didn't really bother me or anyone else. I personally am not offended by any person who goes without a towel nor do I scoff at those who carry one. It seems pretty irrelevant. I don't know what social norms are expected in a place like a locker room, but I either don't know them or I ignore them. On an interesting side note, I went to a female friends apartment last night to spend some time there, and upon entering, I found one of them completely nude in her shower--naturally--and one of her other roommates standing there combing her hair in the same bathroom with the door wide open. Being a gentleman, I chose not to stand there and gawk but I did see enough to figure out that neither girl appeared disconcerted or bothered by the one naked female. I guess this means girls, or at least these two, don't appear to have the same hangup guys do. S&V

assfucker	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 7:15AM - in reply to runr
	runr: cry me a river

peeper	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 7:26AM - in reply to Sound and Vision
	S&V, Next time you visit your friends please bring a digital camera and snap a shot to share with us all. It might not be the gentlemanly thing to do, but it would be the manly/humanitarian thing to do (unless you friend's naked showering friend is a sorry sight. If that is the case, I feel for you).

Ex-Ivy

RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 7:56AM - in reply to assfucker

In college, I always enjoyed the freedom of wandering around the locker room with my johnson unleashed. The locker room was sort of a johnson-free zone-- our private space, where we could crank up some tunes after a workout and let things swing.... Now there were guys who would do things like wear sandals into the shower... these dudes usually whipped their towels tightly around their small packages immediately upon exiting, usually after a nervous 20 second shower. These guys usually snuck in an extra half mile on the warm down to hit their log goal, and usually had to get back to their dorm right away to study engineering. They let loose maybe once per season, getting ridiculously trashed at team parties. Other guys took it too far, sitting around reading shit, going from locker to locker talking trash, laying out on benches, and in one memorable case, eating a tuna fish sandwich, completely buck naked, almost luxuriating in their manhood. Most of these guys did pretty well with the ladies, as I recall, and often drank heavily on weeknights at local townie bars. They sometimes initiated interesting discussions, such as the relative merits of attending class commando-style, their favorite "nookie pants," and their perception of various ladies' preferences with regard to respective johnsons. There was rarely any open package-checking, but once in a while, some big swinging dick would declare himself king of the johnsons and call out a particular dude for a face off. I don't recall any of these competitions ever getting off the ground, but there was generally money wagered, sides chosen up and lots of pointless dick comments fired back and forth. I fell somewhere in between, feeling pity for the dudes who were ashamed of their action, but wishing some of these other guys would pack it in from time to time. Nowadays, I basically change quickly in small stalls, usually in a hurry. I miss the locker room atmosphere, but upon reflection, its probably not because of the johnsons. Now I'm in my 30's and haven't wandered around naked in front of other guys in a while, except for a trip to Europe, but that's different. I remember a July 4th barbecue with some bare-assed antics too, but there were chicks there, so I guess that doesn't count either. I'd welcome an old-timers day, I suppose, although I'd probably be more turned off by the guts involved, including my own,than anything else. I don't know what it means, but as I write this from my office, I bet my colleagues outside would be shocked by my bare-assed history and would think I was a bit freewheeling, which makes me somehow feel like I'm in the wrong job. Sometimes I'll come out of the shower in my place and walk around without a towel, and then realize that the curtains are open and my neighbors can probably see. I'll feel a momentary embarassment and go for the blinds, but then I'll say the hell with it, this is my place and my johnson, so what do I care?

Mop Boy	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 8:11AM - in reply to Ex-Ivy
	Ex-Ivy, Didn't I catch you hiding under the bench in the sauna of the men's locker room at Bally's last week. You really WAX reminiscent about your old locker room.

Typical American	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 8:32AM - in reply to
	Americans are very uncomfortable with their bodies and their sexuality.

You Can't Be Serious	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 8:33AM - in reply to
	I have no problems with dudes walking around bare ass nekid. The ones that get me are those who bring their junk a little too close to you and/or others with changing and conversing. There are just certain levels of proper locker room decorum.

D3 Running

RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 8:41AM - in reply to You Can't Be Serious

ridiculous... my god... if you cannot stand to see the guys' packages then don't look if you truly don't want. just cuz you see a guys wang doesn't mean that you're gay or that they are trying to make people uncomfortable by having it out. Our team walks around naked all the time and we just have a good laugh about it and don't think about it anymore. it makes for some good jokes and what not. get over your fear of being thought of as gay and rock out with your cock out

You Can't Be Serious	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 8:43AM - in reply to D3 Running
	read what i wrote. not your interpretation of it.

laissez-faire	RE: naked guys in locker rooms 12/19/2003 9:25AM - in reply to You Can't Be Serious
	naked communal showers make for more socially well-adjusted men. there is truly nothing to hide in this life, if not the johnson. if girls' teams had communal showers, maybe they wouldn't be such headcases. or maybe it would be worse.

Naked Man in Japan: Festival and Odaiko Drumming

 

Originally published at Naked Man, our man in Japan 
by thomas fast
http://www.ducts.org/06_01/memoirs/naked.html]

For a related (sort of) video, see a troupe of naked odaiko drummers perform on video (mainly women).
http://www.milkandcookies.com/link/40744/detail/

The Naked Man in Japan! vol. 7

Dear readers,

Welcome back to the Naked Man Journal! In this edition, I will expose you to the raw, primal and most MANLY side of Japan. I am talking about the one – but not only – Hadaka Matsuri, or Naked Festival.

The Naked Man in Japan! Check out other Naked Man Entries here.

vol. 7 Dear readers, Welcome back to the Naked Man Journal! In this edition, I will expose you to the raw, primal and most MANLY side of Japan. I am talking about the one – but not only – Hadaka Matsuri, or Naked Festival. As you may, but probably don't know, the Saidaiji Naked Man Festival is one of Okayama's greatest claims to fame. Of course it's also the inspiration for the title of this Journal. I can very much identify with that awkward, slightly drafty feeling of being completely naked in public. Everyday I still get stares. I get tired of it but at the same time, it has had one positive (?) effect: I am now willing to do just about anything in front of others and feel no shame. The locals on the other hand are deathly afraid of doing something that would draw attention to themselves (karaoke being the one exception). "The nail that sticks out…" Let me tell you, I AM that nail as are most foreigners. But I don’t let it bother me. I am OUT and proud. Thus, I am liberated. Free of the inhibitions that hold back normal people. I do what I want! Besides, people are going to stare no matter what. Mind you, I do try to respect local customs and fit in as best possible, but it isn't easy... Anyway, back to the Hadaka Matsuri: During the winter months, there are naked festivals all over Japan, but at 10,000 participants, Okayama's is the largest. I attended it on a cold Saturday evening back in February but haven't been able to put into words exactly what I'd seen until now: It took place in the town of Saidaiji, about a 30 minute drive from downtown Okayama City. I went with 2 busloads of foreigners – some of us just to observe and others actually planning to participate. Upon arrival, we were welcomed with a short speech by the mayor of Saidaiji and a tour of the grounds where the festival would take place. The Canadian ambassador and his wife were also in attendance. I was there with my friends from Peru, Pedro and Roberto, who like myself, were just observers. Tim and Mike on the other hand, (from the UK and US respectively), were "going all the way." Their girlfriends had reluctantly come along to show support. Already they were beginning to fear for the lives of their soon to be naked boyfriends. Tim and Mike seemed to be having second thoughts as well. They were beginning to realize they'd just signed up for an all-out brawl. The purpose of the festival? Quite simple: Capture a scented stick known as a shingi, thrown at exactly midnight, from the rafters of Saidaiji Temple by the head priest. Then take it all the way back to City Hall, at least 10 blocks away, and stick it into a bucket full of dirt. Keep in mind that all the while you will be competing with 10,000 other naked men with exactly the same goal. And there are NO RULES. Participants are allowed to do anything short of kill a man in order to get the shingi before it reaches City Hall. After successfully plunging the shingi into the bucket of dirt, the winner receives an enormous cash prize, not to mention the favor of the gods. Several lesser, "decoy" shingi are also thrown out. They grant good luck and make swell ornaments for your rearview mirror. I should add that the participants aren't entirely naked. The vitals are protected (?) by a fundoshi or traditional Japanese loincloth, similar to those you see on Sumo wrestlers. And in case you were wondering, the official word from the Mayor is that women are allowed to participate, but I've never heard of any who did. They seem to be content to let boys be boys and keep this silly homoerotic game to themselves. That night, it was only a degree above freezing. Rain was coming down in sheets and the ground was a sea of mud. The temple was a typical square, wooden structure with steep steps leading to the main level. This area was entirely open, so you could see the upper floor from which the shingi was dropped. Entering the festival area was like stepping onto the movie set of King Kong. There was a primitive smell in the air. Facing the street entrance, on the temple's first floor, a group of about 20 women played taiko drums. The deep booms punctuated by their shrill cries, gave me the impression that any minute Kong would appear over the small town skyline, looking for a blond in a white dress about the size of his ring finger. There was fear and anticipation in the air. Spectators milled around in the rain, snapping pictures, waving the shrine's incense smoke on their bodies for good luck. I soaked up the ambience. At 9:00 pm the first actual festival participants began to arrive in teams of anywhere from 5 to 50 men. It was a bit startling to see them almost completely naked in the chill night air. They marched around as if in a trance, repeating "wa-shoi, wa-shoi." The previously mentioned fundoshi was their only cover. On their feet, they wore sock-like tabi covered in mud. For the next 3 hours prior to the dropping of the shingi they marched/jogged around the temple, occasionally detouring into a smaller building that housed a pool of ice water. They jumped in and back out to continue their march, psyching themselves up for the battle at hand. Apparently, the water served as a ritual purification. It also made the frigid air seem warm by comparison. As if the mood wasn't charged enough, special "Winter Fireworks" were launched just over the river behind the temple. I had never seen fireworks in a February sky. It was beautiful, but the clouds and rain muffled the explosions. The colors ran somewhat like the reflection of lights seen from within a car on a rainy night. The fireworks, the rain, the shrill cries of the women beating the drums, the incense smoke, the mud everywhere, the beer, the sweaty, naked bodies in the extreme cold, the smells of fried octopus and cotton candy coming from the food stalls – it overwhelmed the senses. Once the fireworks ended, we went to a local coffee shop to warm-up a little. It was right across from a blue tent where our foreign men went to have their fundoshi wrapped. Apparently, like a kimono, it's not something you can put on by yourself. In fact, I was later told by my friend Tim that there was a man in there whose sole purpose in life was to gird the loins of naked men! Tim added that the guy yanked the cloth so far up his buttocks that his feet left the ground! This was done for a reason: Pin the testicles up in the body cavity for their own protection! And obviously, you don't want it unwrapping in the middle of the fray. Most of the foreigners looked understandably uncomfortable in their fundoshis; however, many of the Japanese men seemed to be quite at home. In fact, prior to entering the temple grounds and getting primal, many could be seen leisurely standing around in the rain and cold, smoking a cigarette or having a beer with the fellas. Speaking of beer, in this same blue tent there was an endless supply of beer and sake for our gaijin group. Most of the other participants were "under the influence" to some degree. The common belief is that it helps to combat the cold and provide liquid courage for the battle at hand. Never mind the fact that alcohol mixed with over exposure could also cause hypothermia (cases are very common on this night). Finally it was nearing the moment everyone had been waiting for. We left the cafe for the observation area, located on the temple grounds, about 100 meters away from the temple itself. Fortunately, I was able to see above the umbrellas as I'm quite tall compared to the locals. The intensity was growing. Floodlights lit-up the entire temple precinct. Slowly the inner sanctum was beginning to fill with wet, naked men all jockeying for best position to catch the shingi. Team after team came marching in. There were all types of men. There were the fresh 1st year salarymen who had been forced to participate in company teams -- some sort of sadistic "coworker bonding" activity, the Japanese equivalent to fraternity Hell Week. Those less interested in the glory were simply trying to stay warm. Then there were the real "butt-kicker types. Drunk on beer, sake, adrenaline and testosterone, they walked among the others like lions stalking a herd of gazelle. Within the temple, a sea of bodies formed. It was beginning to spill down the steps. A horde of naked men were yelling, slipping, climbing and slithering their way inside. I took my place in a raised viewing area separated by a fence from the temple ground. There were still about 20 minutes before midnight. I was beginning to tune in to the violence breaking out in and just outside the temple: A large man crashed down the front steps, hitting them head first. Two smaller men exited right behind him. I thought they were trying to help, but then realized they were literally kicking him out of the temple! When the man finally hit the ground (with a "thud" that I swear I heard from 100 yards away), I noticed he was foreign. At the foot of the temple, the foreign man attempted to stand up, but received multiple kicks in the ribs and face. There was nothing he could to do protect himself and no one around to help. I stood 100 yards away unable to do anything but watch the most brutal beating I've ever witnessed (that wasn’t on TV!). Although it was over in less than a minute, it seemed like ages before anything was done to stop them. Eventually a swarm of white raincoat-wearing police with clubs arrived and laid into the two assailants. The two men actually tried to put up a fight with the police but were beaten into submission. Meanwhile, not one of the 40 or so police bothered to check on the man laying in the mud! He was able to stand-up of his own volition but by that point he must have had absolutely no idea where he was. Somehow he managed to stand and staggered away, bleeding heavily from cuts and gashes all over his body. One of the police finally noticed and escorted him back to the First Aid tent. The 2 men who had attacked him were not taken into custody. Instead they were allowed to re-enter the fray. I heard a plea come from an enormous loudspeaker, "Naked Men! Please don’t fight!" Apparently that was their only reprimand. I looked behind me at Roberto and Pedro. "Did you see what happened to that gaijin?!" I asked them in Spanish. Both of them looked a little stunned and gravely nodded their heads. Roberto had actually considered participating, if for no other reason than to get all the alcohol he could drink and run around naked without getting arrested. Ironically, that loudspeaker message signaled the beginning of a string of beatings. I say "beatings" because, I don’t think I saw a single one that wasn't completely one-sided. About three minutes later, I saw another foreigner get involuntarily "ushered" out of the temple. I then saw my gaijin group come "wa-shoi-ing" their way in and I feared for their lives. I tried to telepathically inform them: "DO NOT GO INTO THE TEMPLE!" But that's exactly what they did. I should've guessed that Tim, being the stiff upper-lipped, overly competitive Englishman that he was, would be leading the way. First however, they marched into the cold pool of water. They came out "glistening" as Tim would later describe it. He said the feeling of diving into the ice water, after jogging for an hour, barefoot in the mud, was the most enjoyable part of the evening. After the purification bath, Tim, Mike and a small band of courageous (or really stupid?) foreigners, made their way up the temple steps. Time passed. Tensions mounted. The mass of bodies in and around the temple continued to multiply exponentially. I would see fights erupt, like bubbles of molten lava forming and exploding as they spilled down a mountainside. At some point during all this craziness, a group of real, hardened criminals arrived. I had heard that the yakuza (the Japanese Mafia - in Okayama, they're well represented) had been barred from competing in the Naked Man festival. There was a rule not allowing men with tattoos to participate. Highly ornate Japanese tattoos all over one's upper body are a yakuza trademark. That being said, these guys without tattoos seemed to be just as evil. Their fundoshis were black (almost all the others wore white), and they had black electrical tape wrapped just above their biceps. Wherever they went, trouble and pain seemed to follow. I saw two of them (one VERY large and scary) chase a much smaller man out of the temple, down the steps and around the temple grounds, until he finally decided to stay his ground and fight. This was a bad idea. He was faster than the other two, but no way was he stronger. In effect, he was committing suicide. But he was going to die with honor, kamikaze-style. He got in one good swing, but hit only air. The other two, showing signs that this wasn’t their first fight, wrapped up the smaller man's arms and proceeded to beat him senseless. To my total amazement, there was a policeman about ten feet away doing absolutely nothing! He had to be aware of it! He was obviously there for crowd control but "breaking up brutal beatings" wasn't in his job description. Eventually the same group of white coated police rushed the two men in black. Once the beating frenzy ended, the men were again set free to return to bullying. Each time violence broke out, that same pathetic voice would boom out over the loudspeaker: "Naked men, please don't fight." Ironically, this seemed to be the only reason why many participants were there. Perhaps they were tired of being subservient in their daily lives to their parents, bosses, customers, etc, bowing so much that they even began to bow when talking on the phone! In Japan, there is always somebody above you. Naked Man Festival may be the one opportunity these men have to be entirely selfish, so of course they're going to go a bit overboard! They don’t have to bow or say "I'm sorry" (one of the most frequently heard phrases in Japan) to anyone! On this night, they can go crazy with no repercussions, so long as they don't kill anybody (it was OK to inflict severe injuries). I saw the police attack one guy in an attempt to dissuade him from brutalizing someone else. The man was finally let go, but the minute the police turned their backs, the man went into a berserk rage and actually charged all 40+ police! Never mind the fact that they were fully armed (and clothed). He crashed into the mob of raincoats, knocking down cops like he was a bowling ball and they were the hapless pins. Assaulting a police officer? Even he was allowed to return to the temple! Well I should have known – if another foreigner was going to get into a fight, it would be Tim. He's just too uptight. Sooner or later somebody was going to take a swing at him. On the temple steps, I saw a slender gaijin quickly, but gingerly, running down to ground level. It was Tim. A couple of Japanese men were chasing after him, but Tim was impressively fleet of foot (especially for a man without shoes). Unlike most of the men present, Tim looked quite sober and alert as he darted through the crowd. I wouldn't have expected him to run from a fight. With his manliness at stake, I was sure he'd accept any challenge, but there he was "running away." He reminded me of a streaker, trying to evade the police. Fortunately, Tim received help from a wall of men (both foreign and Japanese) who formed to create a barrier between him and his attackers. Pushing and shoving was exchanged before the police arrived. I was curious to see which of the two parties they would pommel first. Tim's attackers answered this question by charging the cops! As the battle ensued, some fellow foreigners checked Tim for injuries. I could tell by their body language that he was fine. Joined arm in arm, they charged back up the steps. Finally the moment everyone had been waiting for was about to arrive. The floodlights on the temple went pitch black. The crowd roared. Everything was now dark except for a zillion camera flashes coming from both in and outside the temple. From where I was standing, the constant flashes lighting up the darkness seemed to have a magical, kinetic effect. The fervor reached its peak. The shingi dropped. Or at least I think it did. Because of the darkness I never actually saw it – not until the next day on TV when I saw three hardy men in tattered, muddy loincloths plant it in the dirt in front of City Hall. I have no idea how the shingi got from point A to point B. After the drop, the lights flooded back on and the swarm of bodies flowed like a tidal wave, out of the temple. Dog piles and fights broke out all over the place. Eventually we were informed via loudspeaker that the shingi had left the temple precinct and was making its way down the street. We slowly removed ourselves from the area. I was stunned – not only by all that I had seen but, how it could end so quickly. Back on the bus, Roberto and I concluded that the Naked Man festival serves 3 purposes in Japanese society: 1) Religious Purification 2) Right of Passage 3) Stress Release As for myself, I think I'll look for ways to blow off steam, exert my manhood, and purify my spirit that don't involve being naked in public on a cold night in February.