So I used to think that all men are pigs. But now I know that women
can be just as porcine as us guys.
I was cruising up Fifth Avenue today, doing some midsummer shopping
to freshen up the wardrobe for the second half of the summer, when
I stumbled across a crowd gathering in Rockefeller Center. Now I'm
no glutton for punishment, so I usually avoid these touristy type
gatherings in big public places. I figured it was just another gang
of uptown street dancers in their baggy basketball jerseys spinning
on their heads and then passing around a spackle bucket to collect
$1 bills.
But as I came out of the Aldo shoe store with my latest purchase,
I saw the crowd growing and decided to see what the fuss was all
about. I'm not a large man by any stretch of the imagination, so
I fought my way to the front of the crowd and got to the front just
as the event was getting started.
A sheeping WASPY-looking southern man with a terrible suit and
great head of hair held a microphone in the spirit of Bob Barker
and introduced himself as Richard Shea, a representative of the
International Federation of Competitive Eating. This was a Federation
I was not familiar with, such as American Federation of Labor and
the United Federation of Planets. But a pleasantly plump woman next
to me informed those within earshot that this is the group that
sponsors the annual Nathan's Hot Dog eating competiting on Coney
Island every summer on July 4th, when I am usually out in Fire Island
or visiting with friends.
Dick Shea proceeded to introduce the purpose of his little gathering,
an IFOCE-sanctioned Chicken Nugget speed eating competiting. So
apparently those who do not make the big bucks working the Hog Dog
circuit travel around B-circuit and munch on other food products.
Well since I didn't have to meet my friends for lunch in Soho for
another hour or so, I decided to stick around and witness this sorry
exhibition of grotesque humanity.
And boy was I glad I did.
He introduced the professional competitors, calling out their accomplishments
and personalo records like a baseball announcer might during an
old-timers game. First up was Morty Sobowicz, a 250-plus pound gentleman
from a place called Blue Ridge, PA. Sobowicz once ate 46 Big Macs
in 20 minutes. Talk about liking your meat. Next up was a diminutive
woman who would not have weighed more than 105 pounds. Sonya Thomas,
Shea announced, is the greatest living female eater around, holding
more than 40 records, male or female. I was suspicious. Finally,
Wallace Something-or-other (I missed his last name because I was
admiring a young bike messenger's new royal blue Pumas). Wallace
was a large black man in the mold of Hightower from the Police Academy
movies. Let's just say he looked painful.
Next up, a group of young men carried shopping bags of McDonalds
nuggets to the table and laid them out in a neat formation. As Shea
indicated, the eaters would have five minutes to eat as many of
the chicken pieces as they could. They would have the liquid aid
of only one 20-oz bottle of Poland Spring.
And then it began, and Wallace and Morty never had a chance. The
raucous crowd grew more fervent with each devoured piece of poultry
as the diminutive Sonya Thomas put on the single greatest exhibition
of skill and talent that I have witnessed since the 1999 Fire Island
Mr. Leather Competition. She simply put one after another in her
mouth and swallowed. And when all was said and done. Thomas had
downed an astounding 80 nuggets. Wallace finished in second with
42 and Morty only tallied 29.
"Ladies and gentleman," Shea boomed after the remaining
pieces were counted, "we have a NEW WORLD RECORD."
With that pronouncement, the crowd of 600 or so gathered observers
launched into an ovation worthy of a performer like Frank Sinatra
or James Brown. There were hugs between the competitors as the losing
two quickly scampered back to, no doubt, regurgiate their intake
in private. Meanwhile, the elated Thomas, at least 10 pounds heavier
than five minutes earlier, jumped around and celebrated like a rodeo
champion after lasting the full eight seconds (I'm not even going
to make a joke about lasting this long here...). She posed for pictures
with the crowd and even signed a few of the empt McDonalds chicken
boxes for her new fans.
Minutes later it started to rain, but the crowd did not scamper.
Instead, they stuck around to be a part of history for a little
while longer, sharing their awe and amazement with one another,
reliving the event in their minds and even wondering aloud how many
they would be able to stomach.
Watching all of that food disappear like that only made me hungrier,
and I was happy to get down to meet that friend and enjoy a delicious
Nicoise salad for lunch, all the while recapping the events I had
witnessed like a child talking about his first day of day camp.
But it also made me wonder just what kind of people engage in the
sport of eating. Lord knows my thighs could not handle that type
of repeated abuse. But these phenoms, these freaks of nature were
given a gift: the gift of rapid metabolism and rapid mandibular
speed. I may never be blessed with their skill, but I share in their
celebration of food and of the eating of it, in whatever form that
takes.
Flip to International
Federation of Competitive Eating
email this story to a friend
|
