Do the words all you can eat\ cause your pulse to race? Have you been banned from Old Country Buffet? Is your jaw stronger than your biceps? No, you're not just a gluttonous pig—you are an athlete. The ""sport"" of competitive eating embraces gargantuan stomachs and massive appetites, and it is now an international phenomenon, boasting an official governing body, as well as its own Jordanesque hero.
Competitive eating began in the Ice Age, when cavemen vied to finish an entire woolly mammoth in one sitting. The most famous modern competitive eating contest, Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest, began in 1916. Every Fourth of July, Nathan's Famous holds its hot dog eating contest outside the original Coney Island, N.Y., stand.
Though contests like Nathan's have been around for nearly a century, competitive eating really took off a decade ago in Japan. Today, competitive eating contests rank among top Japanese television programming.
Gluttons from around the world now compete in the popular ""sport."" The International Federation of Competitive Eaters was formed in 1987, with registered members around the globe.
The IFOCE takes itself seriously, listing an official code of eater ethics on its website. Safety standards can also be found on the site. You laugh, but this sport has fatal potential. Beyond the many choking hazards involved with cramming your gullet with ten pounds of chicken wings, eaters risk fatal gastric rupture—the literal explosion of the stomach.
Just like any sport, competitive eating has its Michael Jordan. Takeru Kobayashi, nicknamed ""the Tsunami,"" has lifted the Nathan's Famous Mustard Yellow Championship belt five years running.
Comparing Kobayashi to Jordan may be doing the Tsunami an injustice. His 2004 record of 53.5 hot dogs in 12 minutes nearly doubled the second-place finisher's total. Did Jordan regularly double the second high-scorer's point total?
In his sport, Kobayashi meets all the standards of a genuine professional. For starters, he makes between $150,000 and $250,000 per year solely through eating contests. His celebrity in Japan is topped only by Ichiro, who Kobayashi cites as his hero (because of his ""competitive spirit"").
Just as Ichiro brought a unique hitting style to major league baseball, the Tsunami uses a technique called the Solomon: Breaking the hot dog in two, he devours both halves at the same time, then dunks the bun in water and crams it in. The soggy mess minimizes chewing to prevent a tired jaw.
Kobayashi has his own version of spring training that he begins a month before a big contest. He binges on soda water to stretch his stomach out—think consecutive beer bongs. He rarely practices with actual hot dogs, ironically not a big fan of the mystery meat.
Most of his competitors weigh well over 300 pounds—no surprise when you consider that Kobayashi's hot dog record equated to an absurd 16,160 calories and 783 grams of fat. Yet you can find the Tsunami at the beach showing off his impeccable six-pack abs (which help him expand his stomach). He uses an intense weightlifting regimen to build ""the ideal body for eating"" and has never weighed more than 140 pounds.
Ladies, you may have a future in this odd sport, too. Kobayashi's biggest competitor is the 98-pound Sonya Thomas. Thomas, the ""Black Widow,"" could decimate State Street Brats, having downed 35 brats in 10 minutes.
The Black Widow has her own training regimen, eating one enormous meal a day. A common menu? One chicken Whopper, three large fries, 20 chicken tenders and two 32 oz. sodas—diet of course. But could she finish the Pop's Club Chicken 18-Wheeler-Dealer?
With swimsuit season coming up, many students are competing to see who can eat the least. But as a dedicated athlete, no diet for me—it will conflict with my training. I will be spending this spring tirelessly working to put Yummy Buffet out of business. Anyone care to challenge Jay, ""the Inhaler""?
If you want to challenge Jay to an eating contest, e-mail him at storey@wisc.edu.\
