Thank you, Joey Chestnut.
You ate 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes and 103 mini burgers in eight minutes just when I thought I had no shot at becoming a professional athlete.
That’s right: Chestnut is a pro in the belly-rumbling and gag-reflex-inciting world of pro eating. You saw him on ESPN jamming Nathan’s hot dogs down his throat on July Fourth. You witnessed him defeat six-time defending champion Kobayashi.
Some were impressed.
I was jealous.
While many cringe as the competitors of Major League Eating push and chomp until they sweat and have to hold back chunks, I’m normally motivated to eat along with them.
So who are these people with the unquenchable appetites? I call them the luckiest people on earth.
These folks, some sporting year-round Halloween costumes, have invented a new use for the full-sized towel (read: assurance to nearby food-eating spectators) and have turned one of the most humdrum aspects of our lives into a sport.
And, yes, eating a lot makes you an athlete. Duh.
They wear sweatbands like perspiring basketball players and guzzle down liquids like exhausted football players. They’re fueling the stuff of dreams, too; the hope – no, the dream – that we all may be so fortunate to wipe off our barbecue sauce-covered hands and simply write “eating” in our job description.
Those with big mouths, strong esophageal muscles and trustworthy sphincters don’t have to let the dream die: They, just like Chestnut, can be a Rookie of the Year in Major League Eating.
Somebody grab me an oversized napkin. I mean, how hard could this pro eating business be?
“You just got to find what works for you,” said 6-foot-3-inch, 300-pound Russ Keeler, a Kingston, Pa., resident who’s ranked the No. 19 best eater by the MLE. “You have to ease into it and go from there.”
Please, Keeler. If you ask me, it’s a victory on all fronts for these men and women every time they lace, er, bib up. First, they get to soak up the competition and camaraderie of an athletic event. When they look down, they’re facing abnormally large quantities of really good food – chicken wings and jalapeno poppers sound tasty to you, too? By the time these lucky souls are finished, they’ve earned both sweat equity AND the satisfaction of digesting 8.6 pounds of asparagus or 45 pulled-pork sandwiches.
“You are always feeling like you are gonna throw up, but that is mind over matter,” said Keeler, who once ate 23 dogs at a Nathan’s qualifier in East Hartford, Conn.
Well, that doesn’t sound fun.
So the tradeoffs of this career might include frequent visits to the restroom and constant reminders that you have something on your chin.
It can be a career, right Russ?
“If you do well, the money isn’t bad. You can make $3,500 for first place in some,” said Keeler, who himself works in the management of a perforated metal manufacturing company to pay the bills.
That’s a decent proposal to a poor starving college kid. Aside from the flavor and financial stability, Keeler didn’t even mention the fame.
Take Crazy Legs Conti’s story, for example. He pulled up a chair at a seafood restaurant in New Orleans and proceeded to down 34 dozen oysters. The sensational stunt helped him land a documentary on A&E (“Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”) and an appearance on David Letterman to – you guessed it – eat more oysters.
Could it be any more transparent? Those who’ve been blessed with the God-given skill of gorging themselves have it made.
They get the green, the grilled and the gastronomic glory. In the immortal words of Badland Booker: “BURRRRRPPPPP.”
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