Competitive Eating.... What have I done with my life?

On some Thursdays, I like to wander over to the Hooters in Manchester for the glorious man-ritual known as all-you-can-eat Buffalo wing night. I bask in the sights, the sounds, the glory. You may not be able to see it through the flat-screen TV's, and walls covered with vintage 80's photos of Hooters girls posing next to the likes of Woody Harrelson and Jay Leno, but all-you-can-eat wing night is a primal, guttural throwback to my favorite time...the time of the hunter-gatherer.

You see, back in the good ole' days, before bullshit like portion control and vegetables came into play, people ate as much as they could in one sitting. Hey, you don't know where your next meal is coming from... eat up! So, here I am. Hooters is my tribe. I'm being served copious amounts of poultry from my squaw. I prefer the squaw that's sitting at the stool next to that lonely guy over there, but mine will do. I'm being served plate after plate of steaming tasties, when all the sudden my thirst for flesh is quenched. After about 35 wings, I call it quits.

(Aside: Those well versed in early human evolution might be noticing at this time that my idyllic vision of a hunter-gather Hooters features neither hunting nor gathering. In fact, it more closely resembles early human agriculture, in which humans started raising livestock as a community so as to largely eliminate the need for dangerous/strenuous hunting. While that is true, and certainly relevant, the point I am trying to make is one regarding the pure voracity of the hunter-gatherer appetite. Agricultural humans, having a much more stable source of food, were able to portion control and eat vegetables, both of which have no place at all-you-can-eat Wing night. I'm talking pure indulgence. Like Michael Phelps without all that pesky swimming.)

After this man-sized meal of nothing but meat, I am quite pleased with myself. After coming home, I become curious... I probably ate for a solid 30 minutes (with breaks in between plates of wings, but the fact of the matter is, I was full)... what's the record? What man has eaten the most wings in that span?



Joey Chestnut. And that's where the fascination began. Chestnut ate ONE HUNDRED NINETY EIGHT wings in 30 minutes. Oh my Chestnut. That man is truly the second coming. I delved deeper. Chestnut, of course, was the man who shattered Kobayashi's hot-dog record...he now holds it at 66 hot dogs and buns in 12 minutes. WHAT???

I had heard of Kobayashi, and known that someone had beaten him a while back, but it wasn't until I stumbled upon http://www.ifoce.com/records.php
that I started to realize the enormity of some of these feats.

Why the hell isn't competitive eating more popular? Mary-Kate Olsen aside, everybody eats. That is to say, everyone can realize the craziness of competitive eating accomplishments. If Kobe averages 35 points a game, half the country will say, "Is that good?" But nobody can tell me that they're not blown away by the 198 wing count. And if you define athletics as a competition between people pushing the limits of the human body, competitive eating certainly applies.

I hereby start a committee. Let's do away with NASCAR, because it's stupid, and appoint Competitive Eating as the heir apparent. You can't tell me the Southerners will notice. We're the fattest country in the world. You'd think we'd all be able to appreciate something like this! And with the amount of gluttony going down in our country, you've got to think some of our best eaters are hiding in plain sight. Maybe Joey Chestnut is the man right now, but I'd be willing to bet his successor has simply yet to realize his calling.

Step 1: The Challenger...