David Shih and Scott Keiji Takeda Photo by Joan Marcus

But as an American whose primary education in the Japanese sport rooted in the Shinto religion came from TV pro wrestling, such inaccuracy comes with the territory.

But that's okay, because Dring‘s action-packed play, now visiting The Public in director Ralph B. Peña's world premiere production, which originated at La Jolla, is aimed at people like me who are unaware, for example, that the traditional foot stomping and tossing of salt is meant to cleanse the earth of bad spirits, or that the combative spectacle itself was inspired by a mythical battle for the right to rule Japan, when Takemikazuchi-no-Kami, the god of thunder, fighting on behalf of the divine, defeated Takeminakata-no-Kami, the god of wind and water, fighting on behalf the humans.

"The imperial family supposedly descends from Takemikazuchi," explains one of the three kannushi, or Shinto priests, who open the play with a bit of tutorial (Kris Bona, Paco Tolson and Viet Vo). "If Takeminakata had won instead of Takemikazuchi, Japan wouldn't have been ruled for centuries by emperors and instead would have been governed by commoners."

There are no weight classes and sumo wrestlers, called rikishi, average well over 300 pounds in the top divisions. They win by forcing their opponent out of the ring or by making any part of their body, other than the soles of the feet, touch the ground. Typically, bouts last only seconds. The longest on record clocked in at 32 minutes. They fight nearly nude, wearing a mawashi, symbolizing how they come unarmed to the battle.

Dring's story involves members of a Tokyo heya, a fraternal stable where rikishi live, abandoning all ties to the outside world for intense physical, mental and spiritual training as they compete for ranking in preparation for tournaments where they can earn fame, honor, and corporate sponsorship.

In many ways, it's a familiar coming of age story involving rebellion against tradition and making decisions that may shape the rest of your young life. 18-year-old Akio (Scott Keiji Takeda) is a recent addition to the heya, and as maezumo, his function is to scrub the floors, pour tea, and tend the bath for his reluctant mentor, Mitsuo (David Shih), who is one step away from the exalted title of Yokozuna.

At their first meeting, Akio makes it clear that his main interest in being a successful rikishi is to attract girls with his celebrity status.

"Everybody knows your name. All the girls love you," he excitedly tells his grim-faced elder.

"Women contaminate you," he warns, before giving the naïve beginner his first, very painful, lesson in practicing humility.

As Akio gradually learns of the nuanced meanings of what it is to be a rikishi ("Although this world tries to pound you small, you can make your body a weapon," advises Mitsuo) and gain an opportunity to compete in his first tournament, there are various subplots involving the other fighters in the stable (Red Concepción, Michael Hisamoto, Ahmad Kamal and Earl T. Kim), such as one's struggle to make his hard work and love of the sport overcome his lack of ability, and a romantic relationship that is frowned upon, but not for the reason you might expect.

If Sumo seems a bit light on plot to fill its two hours and 20 minutes, Dring keeps perking ears with graceful and thoughtful dialogue.

"After the bomb blinded everything we once knew," says the middle-ranked Shinta (Kim), "the rikishi brought us back to ourselves. They let us know that we were still alive."

And the excellent production values keep stimulating interest. James Yaegashi (sumo consultant/co-fight director) and Chelsea Pace (co-fight director/intimacy director) highlight the aesthetic beauty of the combatants' displays of power, which grants sumo champions godlike status. Taiko drummer/composer Shih-Wei Wu, stationed above the stage, enhances their movements with emotion-simulating rhythms.

Designers Wilson Chin (sets), Mariko Ohigashi (costumes), Paul Whitaker (lights), Fabian Obispo (sound/music) and Hana S. Kim (projections) contrast the solemn dignity of the heya with the glitzy commercial atmosphere of the tournament area, best exemplified by a champion's traditional period garments emblazoned with the name Nintendo.