Shinto doesn’t know the meaning of monotheism. One of its central beliefs is the animist notion that every tree, rock, river has a spirit. These are collectively referred to as yaoyorozu no kami — eight million gods, which does not literally mean that specific number but denotes an infinite number of deities. Countless kami allow for a great deal of specificity when it comes to what each deity is for beyond the usual qualities like love, marriage, prosperity, war, and so on, and with thousands of shrines in Japan, there’s plenty of room to hone in on the granular details of human desire.
Little surprise, then, that there should be more than a handful of shrines dedicated to sports — the general umbrella category, but also particular sports like football and horse-racing. The point is often for visitors to pray for victory in their chosen sport. There are worse things to ask for.
Baseball
There aren’t many other reasons to visit the town of Higashi-Matsuyama in Saitama Prefecture unless you’re a baseball fan, in which case you are likely headed to Yakyu Inari Shrine. It was not originally dedicated to baseball, but has come to be associated with the sport since its name — ‘Yakyu’ — is a homophone for ‘baseball.’ A little tenuous, to be sure, but that doesn’t stop baseball fans from praying to the kami for their team to reach victory, or baseball players from asking for a boost in their batting and pitching skills.
Naturally, this Baseball Shrine has capitalised on its moniker, selling baseball-themed ema (prayer tablets), charms, and fortune slips — ideal gifts for the baseball fanatic in your life.
If that isn't enough baseball, out west in the Kansai region is Koshien Susano'o Shrine right next to Koshien Stadium in Nishinomiya, Hyogo. The shrine predates the stadium, but has all the baseball-themed paraphernalia and then some — charms and ema, but also a granite baseball monument, a lucky baseball mound, paving stones shaped like the home plate, and more. Go Hanshin Tigers!
Ball sports
Shiramine Shrine in Kyoto is where football players pray for good luck. It turns out that if you build a shrine on the remains of the estate belonging to the prominent aristocratic Asukai family, whose head was an enthusiastic kemari (Japanese kickball) player, you’re almost obligated to enshrine the family’s guardian deity, who just so happens to be Seidai Myojin — the deity of mari, or balls used in sports and games. From here, it’s not a big leap to make them the deity of ball sports in general, particularly football (that’s soccer to Americans), although baseball, kick volleyball, and sepak takraw are perfectly welcome inclusions.
However, it’s not the only football shrine in the country. Ashiosha Shrine in Nisshin, Aichi, is another ‘Soccer Shrine’ beloved by fans and players alike. Ashinazuchi, the god of legs and feet, is enshrined there, and they’re supposed to help with stronger legs and success in football-related endeavours. As we’ll see, there are numerous shrines around the country dedicated to this god of feet, but none other with such modern architecture — the shrine building has a curved roof that resembles the shape of a sports stadium.
Then there’s Yuzuruha Shrine in Mikage, Kobe, which saw a burst in popularity in 2011 after fans learned that legendary figure skater Yuzuru Hanyu came here to pray before competitions. He has nothing to do with football; it’s just that his name sounds similar to that of the shrine. However, the shrine’s primary deity is Kumano-okami, whose messenger is Yatagarasu the three-legged crow. This bird happens to be the symbol of the Japan Football Association; the nation’s first football team also happened to hail from Mikage. Besides the usual prayers and football-themed paraphernalia, there’s also a huge granite football which you can slowly spin while you pray for your team.
Rugby fans haven’t been forgotten. Enter Sawata Shrine, a small subsidiary shrine sequestered in the Tadasu no Mori forest on the grounds of Shimogamo Shrine, Kyoto. It was not originally associated with rugby, but that changed after a rugby match took place in front of the shrine in 1910. Now, the site of that first kick is a sacred spot for rugby fans. The prayer tablets are shaped like rugby balls, and there are signed jerseys from the Brave Blossoms (men’s team) and Sakura 15 (women’s team) displayed on the grounds.
Bonus shrine: While not technically devoted to table tennis — it's a shrine for marriage and luck in love — Nitta Shrine in Ota, Tokyo, has a granite ping pong table on its grounds. The shrine will lend racquets and balls to visitors who feel like a quick game while passing through.
Feet, lower body, leg strength, and general sports
What if you’d rather kill all the birds with a single stone? An all-purpose sports shrine is the answer to your prayers. Futsunushi-no-kami is a war god turned sports god, and there are around 400 Katori Shrines across Japan that are dedicated to him. (He is also the protector deity of the nation, warriors, and industrial development — keeping busy.) Many Japanese athletes visit Kameido Katori Shrine in Tokyo to pray for victory in their competitive endeavours, but regular folk have been known to ask for beautiful legs (really) and better leg and back health.
Speaking of health matters, another shrine to visit if you’re suffering from lower body injuries is Goō Shrine in Kyoto. The legend associated with this shrine tells of the deity Wake no Kiyomaru, who was attacked during his journey to Usa and suffered a leg injury. He was saved by 300 wild boars that nursed him back to health and carried him to his destination. Leaving aside the logistical complexities of this story, this is also why the shrine is nicknamed the ‘Wild Boar Shrine’ and has boar statues replacing the customary lion-dog guardian statues. Potential recovery from lower back pain is probably worth at least one prayer here.
For more leg-related divine assistance, the diminutive Kotari Shrine in Kyoto (not to be confused with Katori Shrine above) might be another good bet. ‘Kotari’ is written with the characters for ‘god’ and ‘feet,’ and the name stems from a dream that the Emperor Kanmu had about a god’s feet landing on the ground in the spot where the shrine now stands. The shrine enjoys regular visits from athletes of all stripes, especially football players.
Whether you’re obsessed with leg health or feet (we won’t judge), Hattori Tenjingu in Osaka is the answer to your prayers. Heian period poet, scholar, and politician Sugawara Michizane is the deity enshrined here, and while he’s more familiar to the general public as a kami for scholars, he’s also associated with leg health, thanks to a story where he mysteriously recovers from leg ailments after praying to Sukunabikona, the kami of hot springs and healing.
Besides selling foot amulets (which you should apparently tie to your shoelaces), they hold the annual Foot Festival in autumn, complete with many “foot-friendly experiences and events” (their words, not ours) including running and walking events; in spring, they host the Shoe Festival where you can buy shoes, join dance events, and “purify your shoes with gratitude.”
Sumo
Given sumo’s deep connections with Shinto, it’s only fitting that there should be shrines to this sport. Located in the Sakurai district of Nara Prefecture, Sumo Shrine claims to be the birthplace of sumo in Japan. According to the Nihon Shoki, an 8th century chronicle of Japanese history, the first ever sumo match organised by the Emperor Suinin was a nasty one. Nomi no Sukune, hailing from Izumo (present-day Shimane), defeated (and killed) his opponent by breaking his ribs and crushing his testicles. These days, sumo fans visit to pay their respects to the enshrined Nomi no Sukune, and present-day grand champions will occasionally perform the traditional ring-entering ceremony.
Less ancient but no less fascinating is Tomioka Hachimangu Shrine in Monzennakacho, Tokyo, which claims the honour of being the first to hold (regular) sumo wrestling tournaments. Back in the 1600s, sumo was a much rougher, less ritual-heavy sport, and had been banned by the Tokugawa government in a bid to discourage gambling. In 1684, Tomioka Hachimangu Shrine persuaded the government to let them hold tournaments as a fundraiser to repair the roof of the main building, which had been struck by lightning. This practice continued every year until a dedicated sumo stadium was built in Ryogoku.
Although the tournaments no longer take place on Tomioka Hachimangu’s shrine grounds, a few elements point to its sumo-hosting past. For example, there’s a 1900 stone monument on which the names of all grand champions are inscribed. Sumo wrestlers in Tokyo still visit the shrine twice a year to pray before matches, and if someone attains the yokozuna (grand champion) rank, their name goes onto the monument.
To watch sumo matches in a shrine, you’ll have to visit Setagaya Hachiman Shrine in Tokyo. The shrine itself dates back to 1091, and is dedicated to the deity of war; while Setagaya residents regard it as a guardian shrine for the area, it’s often overlooked by dint of its proximity to the more famous Gotokuji Temple with its many beckoning cat statues. On the shrine grounds is an earthen sumo ring where matches are held every year around mid-September to coincide with the Autumn Festival.
Horse-racing
There is not, in fact, a shrine dedicated specifically to horse-racing, but there is one associated with the sport due to some tenuous wordplay. (It’s always about homophones.) Fujinomori Shrine in Kyoto hosts an annual festival in May that features irises. The word for ‘iris’ in Japanese is ‘shobu,’ which happens to sound like the word for ‘battle,’ and this was enough for athletes to begin praying at the shrine before competitions.
Why the horses? Around 40 years ago, the shrine began offering racehorse-themed ema (prayer plaques) at a parishioner’s request. (Making them… uma ema.) Now, it’s customary for fans, horse riders, and owners to visit the shrine before major races at the Kyoto Racecourse.
Golf
Leaving aside the question of whether golf counts as a sport, Otori Shrine in Tokyo is the place where golfers pray for a better swing. Its association with golf is as convoluted as that for the previous shrine: the kanji for Otori means ‘eagle,’ which is also a golfing term for scoring two swings under par. Tenuous? Sure, but we suppose anything to improve one’s game goes. And yes, they sell golf-themed amulets in the shape of markers and caddy bags.
Written by Florentyna Leow