Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating

It must be the chill in the air blowing up my shorts that signifies that the changing of the seasons has come. Not hot dog season or Krystal season to which my mind immediately wanders, but the actual weather in the outside world. However, in NYC, it’s hard to concentrate on the ice cream cold air, when warm wafting Nathan’s hot dogs are just around the corner (The corner of 14th and 1st avenue to be exact). But before we peek around the corner, let’s take a look back at a few past seasonal events.

One of the last Goldenpalace.com events prior to them returning to offshore waters was the World Lobster Roll Eating Championship held in Boston during the Phantom Gourmet festival. Much like Eater X, no one knows who is behind the purple mask of the Phantom Gourmet, however, everyone knows that Jasper White’s Summer Shack Lobster Roll is pretty good. I’m a lobster purist and prefer to eat the whole thing, freshly boiled, steamed, or grilled. I’m anti-condiment and anti-napkin, so no butter and certainly no bib is needed. The notion of extracting the meat and adding mayonnaise and bun seems anathema to my Lobster routine. However, if the recipe calls for Kobayashi to eat as many as he can against four Beantown amateurs in ten minutes and I get the leftovers (from the Boston side obviously) then all of the sudden, I’m pro-Lobstah Roll. Kobayashi did indeed dent the Atlantic Ocean’s supply of lobster by eating an astounding forty-one. One of my favorite attractive eaters, Molly captained the four person amateur team to a total of twenty-nine. Post contest I ate a casual fifteen in a row while chatting with up and coming Boston Gurgitator “Peter the Eater” Davekos. I saw a few Massholes calling him, “The Greek Adonis of the Feta-ration” but I put a stop to that kind of tomfoolery right away. Besides, I saw him eyeing the rest of the leftover Lobstah rolls that I was coveting for my stomach. To distract him we discussed the discontinuation of the uniball micro fine line pen with metal clip. It is the only product I would endorse, besides of course, Worldwide Bidet, Axia 3, and my signature line of oyster sporks. Davekos is an eater to be reckoned with, and he knows pens. I would see Peter the Great in Atlantic City for the Carmine’s World Meatball Eating Championship and The Bikini Bar and Grill French Fry Championship. Oddly at the second event, Peter’s lovely wife, Mia chose to give her bikini top to Eater X for the contest. George Shea shielded his eyes, and introduced Peter as “Pretty Boy” Davekos.

One of the great stops on the circuit is the Carmine’s World Meatball Eating Championship in Atlantic City. Carmine’s has several locations including the Bahamas (the hopeful future site of the World Meatball Eating Championship) however, none near Rich and Carlene LaFevre. They are the only couple to dine at the family style restaurant (picture troughs piled with aromatic Italian food) and not share their food. They have been known to each polish off their own family size portion of food. Once Rich almost ate the family sitting next to him because they resembled manicotti. No wonder The Las Vegas Locust does so well in the Meatball discipline.

What didn’t go down well at this years contest was the amount of controversy around the ten-pound mark. What would competitive eating be without controversy? Whether it was fans yelling accusations, excessive detritus, handshake stand-offs, this contest had it all. There were even post contest Internet reports from the grassy knoll by the upper-deck Karaoke Bar of the “single meatball theory.” In the end, Humble Bob emerged victorious and the vegetarian superstar celebrated by setting an unofficial egg sandwich record at the afterparty. Later Bob would dip his fingers into the carnivore pool by eating fifteen burgers in seven minutes to qualify as the early favorite for Wing Bowl. Bob, Noah called. He said you can keep all the animals you ate, but he needs the ark back. I moved quickly from controversy to karaoke. In all the hub-bub, my 11th place finish was somehow overlooked despite the fact that I ate 4.71 pounds more than the previous year. What an improvement! Granted, the previous year I suffered one of only two of my reversals on the pro-eating circuit and was credited with a modest zero pounds. Some would say my 2005 performance was due to the excessive partying at the Tropicana the Friday night before the contest. I strongly disagree with that statement and think it’s an affront to my integrity. It was clearly due to the excessive partying the Wed, Thurs, and Friday nights before the contest and I dare anyone to say otherwise. This year pre-contest I took it easy and post contest, I restricted my evening activities to copious mojitos, karaoke, and the Pink Vodka sponsored lingerie party. It couldn’t have been excessive partying…it only took me three days to recover. Sonya Thomas is the first lady of our sport and ate amazingly well, but a female newcomer, Juliet Lee, consumed close to six pounds (Why wasn’t she partying with me the night before? I could have gotten her totals down to, at least four pounds). I think the event was a welcoming coronation of sorts. With Juliet Lee’s pro-debut, Beautiful Brian’s return to the table, and Humble Bob’s hardscrabble victory (not to mention a Helen Haggerty sighting at the Borgata) all it needed was the Star Spangled Banner (or perhaps, “On Top of Spaghetti") sung by Wild Bill Meyers. That guy just fills the room with love.

Speaking of a room filled with love. The Thanksgiving Invitational was one of my favorite events of all time. I was thankful for Jeff, Amanda, the head chef and staff at Artie’s Deli. How often does one get to rip into an entire 12-pound turkey at once. Kobayashi couldn’t join us so he consumed his large bird in the pages of FHM. For whatever reason, perhaps Larry Hoff of the CW 11starting the morning off in his manic mood, or George Shea’s wry sense of the rye bread around him, the room was filled with kindhearted humor. Looking around, I saw Pat Bertoletti and Eater X linked arm-in-arm with slices of pumpkin pie, Arturo Rios Jr kindly referring to me as his baby’s daddy (I couldn’t be prouder), Steakbellie and his whole family, both Brians (the big and beautiful), and Hungry Charles not only weighing turkey shrapnel but weighing the odds that Badlands Booker would show up with the new album. Despite a slight hiccup by Sonya, she is the person I was most thankful for attending. I think Sonya has started to enjoy life on the circuit more. She seems to be having more fun. I believe it to be the camaraderie of eaters, the brotherhood and sisterhood of the stomach that keeps the pro-eating community thriving. Ignore what you read on the internet and just show up to an IFOCE event, that’s where the love is and I loved the 2006 season with all its stomach churning ups and downs.

The Chock full of Nuts Cream Cheese Date Bread Eating Championship proved to be a nice close to the 2006 circuit. As the fifty-first most exciting event in Madison Garden history, the contest was a great capper on a wonderful year of Major League Eating. I have some great memories of MSG (the building not the seasoning) - dunking in practice as a rookie baller playing NYU in 1990, Celtics victories over the Knicks, Chicken Nugget victories by Sonya, BB, and a rookie eater named Reptar, great concerts from Blink 182 and Phish, and recently the Professional Bull Riding circuit and Westminster Dog Show. I was excited to be there for my morning coffee. Chock Full of Nuts makes heavenly coffee but their morning sandwiches are hell to eat competitively. The two slice tasty datebread with the 1/4 inch of cream cheese falls into that food category of, “extended enjoyment” instead of “quick consumption.” At the kiosk in Greeley Square, I noticed NYC morning commuters taking their sweet time enjoying just one sandwich over a twelve-minute period. I’ve seen busy commuters slam a bagel and coffee in the name of multitasking (see www.turnhere.com “Street Cart named Desire”), but the Chock was stopping the clock. I think it might be that the sandwiches taste so good, no one wants to rush through them. I decided to respect the hard work of the kiosk employees that hand make the sandwiches each morning, and savor each bite and not rush during the contest. Clearly, Joey and Pat didn’t get the memo and perhaps realizing that they would be unable to get the sandwiches in San Jose or Chicago decided to fill up their bellies, to take as many back as allowed by the FAA. Sometimes one is spoiled by a hometown food. I wouldn’t mind another shot to get Chock Full O’Sandwiches, so hopefully this ends up a yearly event. I may have to revise my “chew thoroughly to enjoy” strategy. Then again, as of this writing, eating casually since December 20th, just yesterday I finally consumed my 29 1/2 sandwich. Take that Bertoletti! I noticed Hall Hunt had the same dilemma with Pretzel Twister Pretzels. Colonel, keep chewing…007 is your year to take Florida.

Looking back on 2006 I am thankful that competitive eating brought me twice to New Orleans post Hurricane Katrina. Nola is a place dear to my stomach, but closer to my heart. While driving through on the GoldenPalace Spring Break tour I witnessed many college kids, passing up partying in South Padre Island or Panama City, to spend a week helping rebuild The Crescent City. Relief and rebuilding efforts are still on going, so if you are inclined the Louisiana Seafood Board recommends giving to the Louisiana Disaster Recovery Foundation @ www.louisianahelp.org. Another way to give something back to the Big Easy is too head there for Mardi Gras, French Quarter Fest, or Jazz Fest. The talented and wobbly Dinshaw’s musical tributes to the city he calls his second home include the tunes, “Crazy Legs: The Oyster King” “The Sweet Life” and “I want to go back down.” His altruism consists of heading to Nola and putting his entire savings back into the local economy, granted withdrawing from his liver, but it’s philanthropy nonetheless. If you find yourself chuggin some Abita Restoration Ale, say hello to all our friends at Acme…Team Bertoletti did. Patricio, The Masticating Magician, downed 53 dozen mollusk to take the long-form Oyster record (temporarily perhaps) from The Black Widow. For now, The Space Dock Kid holds the title of, ‘Baron of the Bi-Valves.” I hope he tipped the shuckers well.

Another beloved Louisiana institution is WOW Wingery and Café. You know a place is good if they mention wings in the title twice. World of Wings Wingery and Café is exploding like their Buffalo 3 hot sauce onto the national debris-food stage. Wow restaurants are hopping out of the deep fryer at the rate of one per week and half. I know Sonya’s dream is to own her own Burger King, but perhaps she should reconsider with a WOW franchise. Wings are such a universal food that fans and groupies often ask me from where do all the great wing eaters come? Wow’s sanctioned amateur contest lead one strong eater (Ryan from Houma – 2 lbs 6.25 oz) on the path to the Buffalo Wing Festival. Held every Labor Day in Drew Cerza Country, Buffalo, NY, The Buffalo Wing festival has historically debuted many greats in culinary achievements (Jammin Joe and Coondog O’Karma), wing technology (WOW rookie of the year 2006), and generally the greatest wing eaters have made their bones in Buffalo. It is not a well-known story, but Chip Simpson made the trek as an invited alternate to Buffalo in 2005. He did not eat, but rather stood at the far end of Dunn Tire Park watching the pros tear through wings. He thought to himself, ‘I can do this.” During the Verizon Voice Wing Battle finals in Boston he came in 4th, tying Sonya Thomas. That contest gave him the wing confidence he needed to keep improving. He put down 3 pounds, 15 ounces at the Hard Rock Café to solidify his status in the debris discipline. He returned to Buffalo one year later to win the IFOCE title of Buffalo Wing Eating Champion of the World and the moniker, “Wing King.” Great wing eaters are born on the circuit and I predict several WOW wingers will make great strides in MLE contests in 2007. Wow’s wings are fast wings, with an excellent meat-to-bone ratio (see my stained “Magna Carta of Meat” for further explanation). By the way, with the exception of the great kind Bill Simmons, no circuit bound wingers ever come out of Wing Bowl. I consider El Wingador to be a true champion and a stand-up guy. I look forward to my next trip to Philly to avoid the cheesesteak and check out his restaurant, El Wingador To-Go. I also look forward to hanging with seasoned pros Wing Kong, Steakbellie, and their families. Any time Wing Kong, a bus, and a stripper pole is involved count me in. They throw up an after party that rivals Dale Boone at the 8-minute mark. Steakbellie is the James Fennimore Cooper of blogging and I look forward to more of his “Leatherwing Tales” @ www.steakbellie.blogspot.com.

The original Wow in Covington was started by three dedicated brothers, Paul, Steve, and Scott Ballard, and they have made the WOW staff into family as well. From Stephen Carty in development to the road team that opens new franchises, you could not ask for a more dedicated staff. WOW’s conceit is that all wing sauces are not created equal, but all wing sauces should be worldly. Thirty different sauces from around the globe adorn their menu. I managed to check out some of the esoteric fare like Key West Citrus Salsa and their trademarked Australian Taz Raspberry.

The trip to Covington gave Ryan Nerz and I opportunity to extensively drive Hurricane Katrina’s damage. From the water stain mid-house level marks in Lakeview to the strewn foundations of the Ninth Ward, the damage is heartbreaking. And remember, this was fifteen months after the clean-up. The sights defy what simple photography tries to explain; one must look beyond the images on our TVs and computers, in our cameras and camcorders. There one sees the spirit of Nola returning - the church with only a façade and a pile of hopeful bricks behind it, the empty house in Lakeview with the spray-painted anthem, “We will rebuild.” I brought Nerz to the shell of the Homedale Inn (which, truth be told, looked somewhat shell-shocked prior to Katrina). The Homedale is a place of musical folklore on the pro-eating circuit. The Knobs, the Eddie Simmons, and Badlands Booker have all graced the Homedale’s slanted stage. Nerz and I found Parry, the owner, with hammer in hand. After helping to rebuild four of his neighbor’s homes (including our good friend Leannane), he was putting the Homedale back together, one 2 x 4 at a time. How beloved is the Homedale’s slanted floor? Parry is putting it back at the same angle so tottering drunks of the future will find their equilibrium as they stumble out. Parry told us that when he was allowed to enter the bar after the floodwater subsided, he surveyed the destruction. The bar had been torn from the floor and floated to the ceiling and then rested upended in the back room. However, amidst the ruin of the place, on the floor sat a perfectly made cocktail, straw and all, filled with Katrina water. It was as if someone had left their drink for a moment to step outside and returned a month later hoping it would still be there. It is. Parry asked the New York crew to come down and musically christen the place when it’s back together. Parry, we’ll be there. Music will be heard from the Homedale, the drinks will flow, and the Fleur de Lis will bloom again.

Thanks for digesting this trough-size portion of On the Plate. Stick around the table, because very soon there will be a big Zen announcement…and it will satisfy all your cravings.

“I’m trying to get Wayne Norbitz to put up a $50,000 bounty on Kobayashi; Whoever beats him,
gets the money”. Donald Perlyn squints in the Florida evening sun as he says this. I reply that the bounty would travel around the globe generating stellar publicity for Nathan’s. Usually a bounty is placed on one’s head, not their stomach, but it’s certainly an interesting proposal. Don is a high ranking Nathan’s executive based in Florida. He is the man with the golden pitch, establishing Nathan’s dogs in malls, movie theaters, and non-Nathan’s franchised food parlors. I like Don; he looks like the actor who plays Jeffery Lebowski (not The Dude, the other one). It’s odd to be talking to Don on April 15th at a Nathan’s qualifier because Hot Dog season usually starts a Month and half later. But here we are in Sunrise, Florida in the parking lot of the Florida Panthers Stadium. I am a carpetbagger in this contest. Pro Eating has gotten so cutthroat that hometown heroes have no territorial claim over their qualifiers. In the old days, one would respect other eaters’ turf. In 2002 a longtime Boston charity, Eddie Andelman's Hot Dog Safari, was announced as the kick-off qualifier. For three years in a row, I watched the voluminous Cookie Jarvis take what I felt was my hometown destiny away from me. He could have waited until the Long Island qualifier which he could have easily won, however, each year a rumbling plane set down at Logan airport with King Cookie on it and each year my rumbling stomach was left void of victory.

I was channeling Cookie’s swagger (sans fannypack) as I flew into Fort Lauderdale on this Easter/Passover week-end (fortunately, I am a Thermalist so no religious conflict would hold me from the table). My sole focused goal was to earn my spot at Nathan’s 4th of July International Hot Dog contest. I was of singular mind and stomach. As Badlands Booker has rapped, “I was hungry and focused.” The texture and temperature of the dogs was of no concern, my palette cared only for the taste of victory.

Last year Boston had been downgraded to a non-qualifier. I went anyway. Against a field of casual diners I ate 18 hot dogs and buns. The nearest competitor was a NASCAR radio host who had consumed a whopping seven. I spent the next two and half months on the Hot Dog circuit chasing the elusive deuce. I achieved it on the last and latest qualifier in the history of Coney at Shea Stadium on July 2nd. The Weigh In had even taken place the day before. However, The Shea (Rich and George) at Shea (Stadium) day was a historical day in pro eating. It was Nathan’s day at the ballpark and the top eaters in the world had gathered to watch Kobayashi throw out the first pitch. Prior to Kobayashi fastball down the middle, the final qualifier had taken place outside the stadium. Oleg “The Great” Zhornitskiy took the title and won the spot at Nathan’s. Oddly his nickname would change to Oleg “The Mediocre” Zhornitskiy as on the 4th, for some unknown reason, he failed to show up for the big eat. However, four other eaters, journeyman of the wiener wildcard spot, were in close contention for the last invitation to Coney. The wildcard spot is awarded to the eater who has the highest averaged tally from three qualifiers. George Shea was on hand with a calculator, a torn scrap of paper, and the quadratic equation, should it be needed. Of the four eaters, Humble Bob Shout was in the crowd, hoping that his previous totals would hold up. Myself, Big Brian Subich, and Alan “The Shredder” Goldstein were on stage. Both the Shredder and I had a magic number of twenty. I was confident that I could reach my first “deuce” for two reasons: I had trained, and I was inspired.

I was inspired because the night before I met one of my all time heroes, Corey Feldman. He was performing in the off-off Broadway play, “Fatal Attraction: The Greek Tragedy”. After his opening night he took the time to talk to me outside the theater. He signed my VHS copy of “The Goonies” and I gave him a VHS copy of “Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”. Amazingly, his newborn first son was named, “Zen”. I explained my goal the next day and he encouraged me to stand upright. I agreed that letting gravity do its work was important in a contest. After he and his wife rode off in a cab, I noticed a strewn pair of suspenders on the ground outside the East Village Theater. I assumed that perhaps they were Corey’s and that perhaps this was his way of guaranteeing that my posture conformed to what he felt the deuce required. I wore them the next day at Shea. It was a close and exciting contest. At one point Big Brian’s water cups overturned sending a tidal wave of ice tea and meat flotsam down the table. Hungry Charles was on hand clearly formulating and fine-tuning judging standards. Cookie Jarvis lorded over the table in his overcoat. Despite announcing his retirement from Nathan’s he had hopped into the Long Island qualifier at the last minute. Clearly rooting for the Shredder he watched my every bite and even swirled my cups post contest, like a tea leaf reader. The shredder ate 19.5 I ate twenty. As Alan stood at the back of the stage with orange-ish hot dog snot dribbling out of his nose, he looked crestfallen. There is a camaraderie among eaters, a brotherhood and sisterhood of consumption. I was elated that I had eaten the deuce and was going to Coney, but I could empathize with The Shedder’s mental anguish and physical discomfort. From matzo balls to cannoli the Shredder and I have had many close battles. After the contest I vowed to spend the year training so that my Shea deuce would be the first of many.

This year as hot dog season approached, I trained like I never have before. Six weeks out I was training not only for the 12 minute marathon of eating, but also for the 26.2 mile Boston Marathon. I intertwined the two and their many components. Heartbreak Hill is the eight minute wall in hot dogs, both require expert hydration from drinking to dunking, and both are about using your mind to control your body’s limitations…zenning your way to the finish line.

I took an ML Carr approach to the Nathan’s qualifiers. I signed up for just one and I planned on eating 22 hot dogs and buns. ML Carr was one of the Celtic greats from the 1980’s. He was good player, but he was a master mind strategist. The first round of the NBA playoffs was a best of five series. The Celtics would win the first two at home and then have to travel. The possibility existed that they would be on the road for two games in three nights. However, ML would show up at the airport in only the suit he was wearing. “Where’s your luggage, ML” the other players would ask. ML would strongly reply, he needed only the suit he was wearing because the plane was flying right back to Beantown after the win tonight. No questions, no doubt, no luggage.

Around me eaters stood in the shade as Panthers hockey fans gathered around the stage. This year every regional will have six to seven ranked pros and the opening night of nitrates yielded a stacked field. Jammin Joe is the three year Florida defending champ. He is a massive man whose features look chiseled out of granite. He’ll enter a conversation by saying, “Gentleman, the pleasures all yours”, but he is genuinely modest about his food accomplishments. As a professional chef as well as an eater he has a unique view of food ascetic and consumption. When a hurricane knocked out his car and his chance to eat Krystals in Jacksonville, he took it in stride. During hurricane season instead of asking for aid, he sent care packages out of Florida. I received a huge box of short sleeved ruffled tux shirts. Several of his shirts were raffled off at NOLA benefit on the lower east side. Jammin Joe knows fashion and altruism.

Colonel Hall Hunt is here, having had a good Friday, but hoping for a better Saturday. Loren “Bubba” Yarbrough, an 18 dog eater at last year’s Atlanta qualifier has driven a long way to get to Sunrise. Next to him scowls Larry the Legend. Erik “The Red” Denmark has flown across the entire US to taste his first Nathan’s dogs. He was unable to train with the real thing in Seattle and having meat mailed is always a risky proposition. Rumor had it that Eric “The Bro” Broe, a Florida college eater who had a solid key lime finish on Goldenpalace.net's world series of competitive eating, was going to throw his esophagus into the ring. The Bro didn’t show. Even the fill-in eaters were past stars of competitive eating A disheveled Michael “Per Diem” Parrish showed up with the forethought that he would be bringing home leftovers. Per Diem won Florida in 2002 by eating a paltry 13. Today, that total won’t get you near the top five finishers. Ed Taboata Jr. a stalwart of past gurigitating was also on hand having recently moved to Florida because the humidity added an extra moistness to the dogs not found in the Northeast. Bryan Miller of the Krystal Burger circuit was here to prove that IFOCE rank #45 would be a thing of the past; hoping to move up the culinary charts with a bun-breakout performance

And then as the sun went briefly behind the clouds, it was dinnertime at the table. I wish I could describe every nuance of the contest, but the truth is I was focused on my plate and my plate alone. I could faintly hear Ryan Nerz on the microphone, but mostly I heard voices in my head. Voices like Chris Kenneally’s who encouraged me to stay loose, and not tense every muscle in determination. Voices like Eater X’s and Humble Bob’s telling me to believe in the hard work and training, and the voice of my personal goddess, the bun fairy, whose manta, “Hurry slowly” had become my eating style. As the contest wound down, I was pretty sure I had the lead. I was a bite away from my 22nd, when time was called.

It is common knowledge on the circuit, despite not making commissioner Hungry Charles Hardy’s recent open letter at www.ifoce.com, that each eater must consume equal amounts of hot dog and bun. .75 of a consumed bun, but only .5 of a consumed dog counts only as a .5 towards one’s total. I was not in LA when Ray “The Bison” ate 18 buns, but only 17 dogs vs. Boyd Bullot's 17.5 of each. At that close contest the rule should have come into play, however, a one minute overtime was deemed necessary. Would the rule come into play today in Sunrise?

I stepped back from the table as the judges and Ryan Nerz studied each plate. Bryan Miller and Colonel Hall Hunt had put up impressive numbers with 19 and 18 respectively. It took a solid five minutes to determine that Jammin Joe and I had tied at 21.5 hot dogs and buns. A one minute overtime was called and the Nathan’s folk scrambled to find any leftover hot dogs and buns.

A hot dog overtime is a grueling spectacle for eater and fan alike. It is like finishing a marathon and then being asked to tack on a 100 yard dash. However, it is moments like the one minute eatathon that make pro eating as exciting as it can be. One year in Boston, Cookie Jarvis was forced into an OT after consuming 22 in regulation. He credits that contest with giving him the belief that his capacity and mind were capable of breaking the thirty dog barrier. If not for OT, Cookie may never realized the fortitude encased in his winding intestines.

My own overtime history reads like a catering menu at a wedding. While the Nathan’s folk search for fresh dogs I think back on overtimes of eating past.

In a pork rib contest in Cherokee, North Carolina, Rich LeFevre and Tim Janus had an OT to decide first place. A portly Dale Boone was on hand and on his cell phone reporting his stats to the gossipmongers while Larry The Legend and I were set to duke it out for fourth place and $500. Larry, who in recent events seems legendary for his big mouth yet small stomach, out ate me and took home the prize. It was his best pro eating performance ever and I had a long 13 hour drive back to New York to reflect on my difficulties with the debris food.

A plate is placed in front of me with all the buns overturned and a soggy napkin at the bottom. Despite my belief that the best tasting food in the world is the leftovers from a competitor’s plate, these dogs had resigned themselves to a 12 minute fate and clearly had nothing left for an OT. I asked for a less sloppy plate

In a Matzo ball OT years ago, I tied Joe Menchetti and Hungry Charles Hardy with 12 floaters in 2 minutes 50 seconds. In the OT, I overstuffed in the last seconds and could not contain mouth or myself. I suffered the first of my only two reversals on the circuit (my second one was at the Carmine’s Meatball Championships). Much to my displeasure Ben’s website even posted my roman incident. Not everything you read or see on the internet is true, but my mealy mouthed overstuff was truth in pixels.

The next plate of dogs is not soggy, but the buns are dry and crumbled. I ask Joe if he minds if we replace this plate so as no preexisting detritus will confuse the judges. He agrees and at last
fresh dogs and buns are placed in front of me. I have one cup of water, a full belly of bread and meat, but my mind is channeling Choi Min-Sik’s Oh Dae-Su from “Old Boy”. I want to eat something alive.

As I stare at five dogs, five buns and destiny. Cannoli, the delectable Italian desert is the farthest thing from my mind. As a rookie, I ate 18 and tied for third with the IFOCE bib wearing Joe Menchetti and The Mouth from The South, Dale Buffoon. In the two cannoli overtime, I sensed the ricotta cheese and my speed slipping away as Dale licked his lips in victory. Two years later I would find myself tied for third again, this time with the formidable Alan “The Shredder” Goldstein. This time we would go to triple OT. Described by some “The Thrilla with Vanilla” and by Beautiful Brian as, “The most thrilling three rounds of competitive eating in history”, it was an exhausting yet exhilarating moment in the sweet science of sweet eating. Both of us trembling from a caffeinated sugar-high, we had to find the stomach strength to eat on. The Shredder made it happen and as his triumphant fists were raised in joyous victory, my mind wandered to the musings of Emily Dickinson and a poem that was etched into my brain:

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell, the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

Emily Dickinson never ate in a one minute hot dog overtime, but she sure knew her stuff.

And stuffing Jammin Joe and I went. In my peripheral vision I could see Joe’s dogs, but then all senses shut off. I shut out the $500 dollars I had spent to arrive in Florida, I shut out the fact that I had signed up for one qualifier and all others were filled to capacity, I shut out the physical discomfort and shook off the meat sweats. I ripped an errant dreadlock from my mouth (I had also almost consumed one in regulation) and put another dog in. I shut out the notion of winning or losing. I simply ate all that I could in one minute.

Time was called and the judges behind me began shouting for the eaters to swallow (What one has consumed counts only after one swallows what is in their mouth as quickly as possible). I picked up my cup of water and chugged the entire 16 ounces to clear my mouth. Of all the moments in the contest, this is the one I am most proud of. My mouth clear, I stepped back from the table and judges swarmed in.

It is close. It is as close as it gets. It is the closest contest in Florida history, maybe hot dog history. Ryan Nerz and several judges scrutinize the plates, other eaters peered over shoulders waiting for the definitive announcement. This was an overtime for the ages and in this overtime, I had eaten more. Ryan Nerz makes the announcement, I wave to the crowd. There is no trophy on hand, but I don’t need one. The twenty-five hot dogs in my belly are my trophy and I am not about to give them up. Don Peryrln congratulates me and hands me a towel. I wipe my face and step into a camera interview. Behind me I can hear Jammin Joe argue his case for another OT. My heart and stomach go out to him, much like it did for the Shredder the year before. The camaraderie, the brotherhood and sisterhood of pro eating, is a strong one, but at the table, despite the support, you are eating alone.

I was standing alone with the local new camera running. I talked about Kobayashi and close calls. In any pro sport there are close calls and buzzer beaters, last second shots and stuffs. I don’t know what I said exactly; my stomach was full, but my mind was empty. I wish I had simply said that Jammin Joe had reason to celebrate. He had carried the state of Florida on his massive shoulders and would likely do so again. What better way to kick-off hot dog season than with a stomach beating finish and an OT of epic proportions and portions. I was elated to be a part of the contest and still am, despite the amount of venomous accusation, conjecture, speculation, and falsehoods published on various eating sites and forums. Then again, William Hazlitt said, “When a thing ceases to be a subject of controversy, it ceases to be a subject of interest”.

The sun is setting in Sunrise, I change from my Nathan’s T-shirt to my lucky purple Hawaiian shirt and stare at the sky. One marathon down, one to go. My esophagus is as sore as my hamstrings, but I’m ready to run to the next challenge.

I would take in the Florida Panthers hockey game and then head from Florida to New York to Boston for Monday’s Marathon. Making Coney has been a dream for the last five years, but completing the Boston Marathon has been a life long dream.

I talk to Jammin Joe who said he is pissed, but still loves me and we got our separate ways. I think of the truly legendary Stu Birdy, who on his best day could only muster 10 hot dogs and buns, yet had the amazing ability to realize how fun competitive eating is and is suppose to be. Stu is the patron saint of the golden hot dog, a guy who knows that tomorrow the sun will rise again and smile on us all.

Later, I sat uncomfortably digesting the dogs during the pro hockey game. After three periods of play, the score was tied. Across the arena I noticed Jammin Joe get up from his seat and turn his back to the game. He looked stoic, not defeated, but he had enough overtimes for the day and he walked out of the arena.

I’d love to see him walk off the Bus of Champions this Fourth of July. He has two more chances to qualify, but knowing Joe’s spirit, I think he’ll only need one. Other eaters should fear a man who has survived a hot dog OT and raised the bun on their personal best.

If this On The Plate is posted in time, while I am enjoying some crab cakes and Natty Boh beer in Baltimore, you will likely be reading about Jammin Joe LaRue breaking the all time sweet corn record and repeating as King of the Kernels. I wish him, and all eaters well this week-end; making history and mirth, one mouthful at a time.

Home \| Crazy Legs Press \| About the Movie \| Contact \| About the Filmmakers \| Screenings \| Join the email list
	Eating this Blog 2009 For those looking for the latest on the plate it seems this blog might be past its expiration date. For those interested in the DVD documentary, "Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating" it is available for sale online from Blue Underground and can also be Netflix'd. I have moved all my competitive eating blogging to Major League Eating It is a social network of pro-eaters and casual diners, sort of a MyStomachSpace. For those who prefer print books and magazines, I recently contributed to Samantha Ettus' "The Expert's Guide to Doing Things Faster" Expert's Media and wrote about Takeru Kobayashi in Swindle Magazine's ICONS 3 Please continue to email me at with questions, queries, and lunch invites. I continue to eat competitively and will see you in your hometown for a lot of food in a short amount of time... Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti

	Happy 4th 2008 Happy 4th of July to all worldwide. As of this writing I am twenty four hours away from the Maelstrom of Meat, the Chaos at Coney…the Nathan’s International Hot Dog Eating Championship. There are so many things I enjoy about this contest, but perhaps the most important is the camaraderie of the eaters, the brother and sisterhood of the stomach. It is a grueling two months qualifying circuit and leads up to the magical moment at high noon, corner of Stillwell and Surf, Coney Island (also broadcast on ESPN). Beyond the twenty-one gustatory gladiators at the final table, I always hope to honor those greats who have come before (many on the Wall of Champions) and each and every competitor who participated in the qualifiers, who isn’t represented at the table. Despite the rigors of the manual-to-oral dexterity required, How every bite, chew, and swallow counts, I will raise my twenties hdb (the “deuce”) to all the Major League Eaters watching at home. I will raise a post-contest toast at Ruby’s Bar and Grill on the boardwalk to all the fans. It’s an important year for Coney Island, so if you can, join us for some post-contest digestives. The fans have more ways than ever to enjoy the Major League Eating circuit, from the video game www.mlegame.com to an online community at www.majorleagueeating.com . I will occasionally be posting competitive eating thoughts in the blog section of www.majorleagueeating.com it’s sort of a MyStomachSpace for gurgitators. As for predictions for the contest….From 2002 to the present, each 4th of July on the Bus of Champions, I listen to a voice from the back of the bus. It’s a moment I await and cherish. A slight bespectacled man always calls out, “Do your best, everyone do your best; Get your personal best”. The man is eating legend, Rich “The Locust” LaFevre, and he and I are returning to the final table for the seventh consecutive time. He’s right, of course, and I am honored to have shared the journey with him. Wherever you are on the 4th, do your best and eat a hot dog. Maybe just one. Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs

	I guarantee eggs, ham, and a PAT RIOT As the 11th ranked Major League Eater in the world there is nothing that has ever upset my stomach. I am the world record holder in pancakes and bacon, buffet food, and sweet corn on the cob, but I’ve also ingested voluminous amounts of pig’s feet, butter, and today I ate an NFL football’s worth of pigskin; and no upset stomach, that is, until I heard the rumbling of a guaranteed Super Bowl victory for the Giants by Sean Landetta. Sean Landetta, former Giants punter was on hand as head judge. He seemed like a wonderful human being and I truly enjoyed talking with him. I was a third string punter in college in Baltimore and we both practiced on the same field (He with slightly more success, two Super Bowl rings – I traded punting for dunking…hot dog buns). I can appreciate his difficult position, an NFL player being asked to judge The World Pork Rind Eating Championship (see William "The Fridge" Perry's pro-eating involvement). After I crunched my way to close to one pound of pork rinds in six minutes, I felt my stomach flutter as Landetta took the mic to announce the winners and instead guaranteed a Giants victory. First, Plaxico Burress spouts off and now a fellow punter is calling it only for the Giants? With Landetta’s announcement, for only the third time in my seven year competitive eating career, I almost suffered an urge contrary to swallowing (we don’t use the “V” or the “P” word). I don't mean to throw Landetta under the table, but there are very few guarantees in sport. Or Pork Rind eating... With full disclosure, I consider myself a conundrum and not because of stomach’s capacity. I am from Boston originally, but have lived in NYC for thirteen years. I am a transplanted Masshole who qualifies as a New Yawker. For the Pigskin World Championships, deep in Blue Country, surrounded by Giants fans, I wore a Larry Bird Shirt. Granted, it was under a Spike TV shirt advertising for the MLE Chowdown Ham and Eggs Super Bowl ½ time show but, I wore my Beantown undershirt proudly, and the only time the tackle-toe 33 rumbled was at another Giant’s guaranteed victory. It sours the stomach - even a world class one like mine. I am sure there are pictures or footage of the Pigskin Eating Contest and probably my near reversal of fortune at the contest’s conclusion. The only thing guaranteed about the Super Bowl is that Spike TV’s halftime show (hard boiled eggs/whole spiral ham) will be a lot more rockin than Tom Petty. Oh, and a Patriots victory. I have a gut feeling. If you are a Giants fan this might upset your stomach. It's gonna be a PAT RIOT Post Superbowl Update: Well, looks like my fandom suffered a reversal of fortune. From Pigskin Bowl, Wing Bowl, to Super Bowl, the weekend had its highlights, but also ended up a huge debacle. Fortunately, The Post Super Bowl of Cereal on Sirius Radio (Raw Dog Channel with Mark Saymyname) let me cry into my spilled milk. Eater X and I got to eat casually and chat about cereal for a solid hour. Probably, the most fun radio show for both us. Check out Mark on his alternative comedy show on Sirius if you need a laugh. I need a few to get over this weekend. A quick recap: Pigskin Bowl Highlight: Participating in such a difficult contest it resulted in the lowest winning total in MLE history Lowlight: Four days later the roof of my mouth still feels like Captain Crunch Wing Bowl Highlight: Standing with Steakbellie in the middle of the maelstrom and him saying, "Maybe next year we just stand right here and drink" Lowlight: It's Wing Bowl, pick one Super Bowl Highlight: Taking in the first half with Anchor Bar mail-order wings Lowlight: Having the Lower East Side bar chant down the Spike TV egg eating (despite lubing the bar with free P.I.N.K vodka) and changing the channel...that and everything after that. Hipsters, Giants Fans, (and one Dallas Fan)took their toll on me this weekend. I'm crying in my morning coffee.

	Spike TV's MLE Chowdown Championships "Wedges and Wings" Thursday, October 18th Spike TV 11 PM EST "Wedges and Wings" This is the first broadcast in a three part championship series on Spike TV. One show per month for the next three months will air. Although I am very much an active eater (44 Krystals in eight minutes, last weekend) I am in the broadcast booth for the Spike shows. I also got to spend some time in Orlando with the TNA wrestlers to shoot a promo for the Chowdown Championships. TNA Wrestling precedes "Wedges and Wings" and if you thought Badlands Booker was a man mountain, wait until you see some of the TNA champions. Jim Cornette, TNA's managing director is a huge MLE fan. He knew all the players and actually cooks the competition food at home while watching MLE contests. He mentioned a few of the wrestlers who could give Rich LaFevre a run for his money at the buffets. I know the Spike shows will saitate even most hungry fans of debris food, astronomical poundage, and interesting rivalries. I was amazed and astounded at some of the results. The only thing I can tell you is that I ate a couple double-doubles at In-n-Out Burger. Very Slowly. The action you won't see on screen is the camarderie of the gurgitators and the simple joy of friendship that the circuit provides. While it is true not every eater was present we all try our best to make the most of each meeting, at and away from the table. If you've never shared a beer with Steakbellie or bottle service with Dr. Bigtime, don't worry. They will be in your hometown soon enough. I look forward to the Krystal Square Off 4 (Oct 28th on ESPN)and catching up with the burger gang in Chattanooga. In the meantime, enjoy Spike TV and have a few wings or potato wedges while you watch.

	Summer Lovin' I hope this On The Plate finds you stellar. This past summer was an incredible one for me, as a Major League Eater and as a journeyman in life’s cinematic, culinary, and amazing adventures. This letter is a brief recap of my recent travels and the life long memories that were created. Most importantly, the documentary, “Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating” is finally available on DVD. Oyster Production in conjunction with Blue Underground has made the DVD available for sale everywhere online (such as websites like www.amazon.com , www.dvdempire.com , and Barnes and Nobles), in stores (such as Best Buy and Virgin) and is available to rent at many video outlets and Netflix. The DVD not only includes the film, but also is stuffed with an hour of gut-busting extras. You’ll find some of my walking food tours for www.turnhere.com, a few of my death-defying “food stuntman” exhibitions (like “The Popcorn Sarcophagus” and the “Naked Window Washing Donut Stunt”), and other pro-eating contests and audio commentaries. Chris Kenneally, Danielle Franco and I even convinced Kristy and Maria, our two favorite Coyote Ugly bartenders, to don only hot dog halter tops and burger bikinis and let Tim “Eater X” Janus, dunk their, ahem, buns. Clearly, the DVD has something for the whole family and it can also be viewed in Taste-O-Vision, a never before attempted combination of the culinary and cinematic worlds – “it’s like a movie in your mouth!” Gorge yourself at www.crazylegsconti.com and www.tasteovision.com. I know the DVD will satiate even most voluminous appetites and I think you will enjoy it either before, or after a large meal. The July 4th Nathan's Hot Dog contest was one for the ages. Joey "Jaws" Chesnut broke the 4-minute mile of competitive eating by downing 66 hot dogs and buns (Hdbs) and Kobayashi was a true gracious champion, even in defeat (and 63 hdbs). It was my sixth consecutive trip to the final table (longevity is a rarity in pro-eating) and I did 23 1/2, which was important because although I got lapped, I didn’t get tripled. The entire field did over the deuce for the first time in history. It was a great day and in my opinion, more historic than 1776. Among the media maelstrom of highlights that preceded the ESPN broadcast, I splashed Geraldo with some soggy bun (he was in “the spray zone”) and NYC Mayor Mike Bloomberg chose me as his favorite gurgitator (we attended the same all-you-can-eat meal plan College). I was fortunate to be able to talk about “Zen” on Fuse TV, SNY NY, Sirius Maxim radio, ESPN’s Mike and Mike in the morning, and my sweaty visage graced the cover of AM NY. The best highlight was celebrating the contest with my fellow gurgitators, the brother and sisterhood of the stomach. Post contest, we headed to Ruby’s on the Boardwalk for a few digestive beers. I also celebrated the history of Coney Island and received the greatest commemorative gift of my life, a midway banner in my likeness, created by artist Marie Roberts. The gift was from the mysterious Bun Fairy and it hangs proudly on the wall of Coleman’s Bar and Grill. Also in July, I traveled to Las Vegas and the Home Media Expo. There, I broke the speed-eating popcorn world record by downing 10.5 buckets of Popz popcorn in ten minutes. I was nervous before the exhibition and during it, accidentally ate a couple errant napkins at the bottom of buckets five and six – in honor of Hunter S. Thompson, I would call this episode, “fear and digesting in Las Vegas”. My jaw is still sore. On Tuesday, July 24th the filmmakers and I celebrated the official release date of the DVD with a special “Taste-O-Vision” screening at the Millennium Theater in NYC. 80 moviegoers received special flavor tablet packets and we screened four scenes from the movie. As the viewers watched me eat on screen, instructions flashed to consume the jellybean tablets, flavored for “hot dog”, “butter” or “oyster”. The Taste-O-Vision scientists could still use some work on the “oyster” tablet, as it didn’t quite honor the delicious New Orleans’s mollusk. In attendance were the Mount Rushmore’s of the Stomach, including Ed “Cookie” Jarvis, Krazy Kev Lipsitz, Don “Moses” Lerman, and of course, Badlands Booker, who honored us with a rap off his album, “Hungry and Focused”. It was a wonderful evening. I then traveled to Brownsville, Oregon, the town where 1985’s“Stand By Me” was filmed. Each summer, the Alamo Drafthouse from Austin, TX heads out on their Rolling Roadshow and holds free screenings on a 40 ft inflatable screen of your favorite movies in the towns where they were filmed (www.drafthouse.com ). With the help of Major League Eating (www.majorleagueeating.com), the first hands-free blueberry pie eating contest was messily conducted, just before the movie screening. Despite Pat “Deep Dish” Bertoletti and I quaffing castor oil, the dreaded barforama, did not occur, much to the relief of the six hundred town folk who had gathered to recreate the movie scene. As we digested our pie, the sun set and ‘Stand By Me” was shown. A moon as pregnant as my belly hung over the inflatable screen adding to the magical quality of the evening. I also got to indulge in my 80’s movie love at other Oregon sites, including the asylum from “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, Steve Prefontaine’s track @ Haywood Field, The spot where the “Animal House” frathouse once stood, and best of all I drove to Astoria and found “The Goonies” house. I couldn’t resist doing the Truffle Shuffle outside the house. It was a dream comes true. I ended my busy July month, by eating Pizza Hut P’Zone on Sirius Maxim Radio. Two and a quarter pounds in six minutes; I am took August to digest. I would love to hear your thoughts and if you are so inclined to give a quote about the film, or a humorous one about Taste-O-Vision (Audio commentary extra where what you see me eat on screen, you can taste at home). I’ve always preferred the thoughts of creative types I’ve admired rather than critics words, so we hope to include the testimonials of our favorite people at www.tasteovision.com to be savored next to the words of “Hungry” Charles Hardy and Eric “Badlands” Booker. My contact info is below, enjoy the film and DVD, and we will get together soon for a casual dining experience. Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti

	Taste-O-Vision I just got back from Las Vegas and the Home Media Expo where I ate popcorn in conjunction with the DVD release of, "Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating". I ate 10.5 buckets of Popz microwave popcorn in ten minutes (and two errant soggy napkins at the bottom of buckets 6 and 7 - gross). Call it, "Fear and Digesting in Las Vegas". Also, The July 4th Nathan's contest was one for the ages. Joey "Jaws" Chesnut broke the 4 minute mile of competitive eating by downing 66 hdbs and Kobayashi was a true champion even in defeat (and 63 hdbs). I did 23 1/2 which was important because I didn't get "tripled" by Joey's amazing 66. The entire field did over the deuce for the first time in history. It was a great day (in my opinion, more historic than 1776) and it's going to be a wonderful July because the DVD of the documentary, "Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating is finally available. Its online now and will be in stores July 24th. Plus its in Taste-O-Vision ( www.taste-o-vision.com) In conjunction with the DVD we have a couple great events that you may be interested in. On July 24th at the DVD release will will screen some scenes in Taste-O-Vision, where what you see me eat on screen, the audience gets to eat (color coded jelly beans for hot dog, oyster, butter, etc). It is also a feature on the DVD. On July 28th, I will be in Brownsville, Oregon for the outdoor screening of "Stand by Me" (by the Alamo Drafthouse Rolling Picture Roadshow www.originalalamo.com ) with the first ever hands-free blueberry pie eating championship. Corey Feldman will be the head judge. It's a great summer to be a Major League Eater. You can glean background info at www.crazylegsconti.com, www.majorleagueeating.com , and www.ifoce.com Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti July 4th Coney Island, Official after party @ Ruby's on the boardwalk. DVD pre-release party July 17th Las Vegas, Home Media Expo - I attempt to break Sonya's shortform popcorn world record (9.5 bags in ten minutes) Tuesday, July 24th DVD release screening in Taste-O-Vison, Millennium Theater 7:33 PM (66 East 4th street between 2nd ave Bowery). After-Party @ Coyote Ugly (1st ave and 9th street). Saturday, July 28th Brownsville, Oregon "Stand By Me" screening and blueberry pie eating championship with Corey Feldman.

	An overdue toast (no butter) to the new year It must be the chill in the air blowing up my shorts that signifies that the changing of the seasons has come. Not hot dog season or Krystal season to which my mind immediately wanders, but the actual weather in the outside world. However, in NYC, it’s hard to concentrate on the ice cream cold air, when warm wafting Nathan’s hot dogs are just around the corner (The corner of 14th and 1st avenue to be exact). But before we peek around the corner, let’s take a look back at a few past seasonal events. One of the last Goldenpalace.com events prior to them returning to offshore waters was the World Lobster Roll Eating Championship held in Boston during the Phantom Gourmet festival. Much like Eater X, no one knows who is behind the purple mask of the Phantom Gourmet, however, everyone knows that Jasper White’s Summer Shack Lobster Roll is pretty good. I’m a lobster purist and prefer to eat the whole thing, freshly boiled, steamed, or grilled. I’m anti-condiment and anti-napkin, so no butter and certainly no bib is needed. The notion of extracting the meat and adding mayonnaise and bun seems anathema to my Lobster routine. However, if the recipe calls for Kobayashi to eat as many as he can against four Beantown amateurs in ten minutes and I get the leftovers (from the Boston side obviously) then all of the sudden, I’m pro-Lobstah Roll. Kobayashi did indeed dent the Atlantic Ocean’s supply of lobster by eating an astounding forty-one. One of my favorite attractive eaters, Molly captained the four person amateur team to a total of twenty-nine. Post contest I ate a casual fifteen in a row while chatting with up and coming Boston Gurgitator “Peter the Eater” Davekos. I saw a few Massholes calling him, “The Greek Adonis of the Feta-ration” but I put a stop to that kind of tomfoolery right away. Besides, I saw him eyeing the rest of the leftover Lobstah rolls that I was coveting for my stomach. To distract him we discussed the discontinuation of the uniball micro fine line pen with metal clip. It is the only product I would endorse, besides of course, Worldwide Bidet, Axia 3, and my signature line of oyster sporks. Davekos is an eater to be reckoned with, and he knows pens. I would see Peter the Great in Atlantic City for the Carmine’s World Meatball Eating Championship and The Bikini Bar and Grill French Fry Championship. Oddly at the second event, Peter’s lovely wife, Mia chose to give her bikini top to Eater X for the contest. George Shea shielded his eyes, and introduced Peter as “Pretty Boy” Davekos. One of the great stops on the circuit is the Carmine’s World Meatball Eating Championship in Atlantic City. Carmine’s has several locations including the Bahamas (the hopeful future site of the World Meatball Eating Championship) however, none near Rich and Carlene LaFevre. They are the only couple to dine at the family style restaurant (picture troughs piled with aromatic Italian food) and not share their food. They have been known to each polish off their own family size portion of food. Once Rich almost ate the family sitting next to him because they resembled manicotti. No wonder The Las Vegas Locust does so well in the Meatball discipline. What didn’t go down well at this years contest was the amount of controversy around the ten-pound mark. What would competitive eating be without controversy? Whether it was fans yelling accusations, excessive detritus, handshake stand-offs, this contest had it all. There were even post contest Internet reports from the grassy knoll by the upper-deck Karaoke Bar of the “single meatball theory.” In the end, Humble Bob emerged victorious and the vegetarian superstar celebrated by setting an unofficial egg sandwich record at the afterparty. Later Bob would dip his fingers into the carnivore pool by eating fifteen burgers in seven minutes to qualify as the early favorite for Wing Bowl. Bob, Noah called. He said you can keep all the animals you ate, but he needs the ark back. I moved quickly from controversy to karaoke. In all the hub-bub, my 11th place finish was somehow overlooked despite the fact that I ate 4.71 pounds more than the previous year. What an improvement! Granted, the previous year I suffered one of only two of my reversals on the pro-eating circuit and was credited with a modest zero pounds. Some would say my 2005 performance was due to the excessive partying at the Tropicana the Friday night before the contest. I strongly disagree with that statement and think it’s an affront to my integrity. It was clearly due to the excessive partying the Wed, Thurs, and Friday nights before the contest and I dare anyone to say otherwise. This year pre-contest I took it easy and post contest, I restricted my evening activities to copious mojitos, karaoke, and the Pink Vodka sponsored lingerie party. It couldn’t have been excessive partying…it only took me three days to recover. Sonya Thomas is the first lady of our sport and ate amazingly well, but a female newcomer, Juliet Lee, consumed close to six pounds (Why wasn’t she partying with me the night before? I could have gotten her totals down to, at least four pounds). I think the event was a welcoming coronation of sorts. With Juliet Lee’s pro-debut, Beautiful Brian’s return to the table, and Humble Bob’s hardscrabble victory (not to mention a Helen Haggerty sighting at the Borgata) all it needed was the Star Spangled Banner (or perhaps, “On Top of Spaghetti") sung by Wild Bill Meyers. That guy just fills the room with love. Speaking of a room filled with love. The Thanksgiving Invitational was one of my favorite events of all time. I was thankful for Jeff, Amanda, the head chef and staff at Artie’s Deli. How often does one get to rip into an entire 12-pound turkey at once. Kobayashi couldn’t join us so he consumed his large bird in the pages of FHM. For whatever reason, perhaps Larry Hoff of the CW 11starting the morning off in his manic mood, or George Shea’s wry sense of the rye bread around him, the room was filled with kindhearted humor. Looking around, I saw Pat Bertoletti and Eater X linked arm-in-arm with slices of pumpkin pie, Arturo Rios Jr kindly referring to me as his baby’s daddy (I couldn’t be prouder), Steakbellie and his whole family, both Brians (the big and beautiful), and Hungry Charles not only weighing turkey shrapnel but weighing the odds that Badlands Booker would show up with the new album. Despite a slight hiccup by Sonya, she is the person I was most thankful for attending. I think Sonya has started to enjoy life on the circuit more. She seems to be having more fun. I believe it to be the camaraderie of eaters, the brotherhood and sisterhood of the stomach that keeps the pro-eating community thriving. Ignore what you read on the internet and just show up to an IFOCE event, that’s where the love is and I loved the 2006 season with all its stomach churning ups and downs. The Chock full of Nuts Cream Cheese Date Bread Eating Championship proved to be a nice close to the 2006 circuit. As the fifty-first most exciting event in Madison Garden history, the contest was a great capper on a wonderful year of Major League Eating. I have some great memories of MSG (the building not the seasoning) - dunking in practice as a rookie baller playing NYU in 1990, Celtics victories over the Knicks, Chicken Nugget victories by Sonya, BB, and a rookie eater named Reptar, great concerts from Blink 182 and Phish, and recently the Professional Bull Riding circuit and Westminster Dog Show. I was excited to be there for my morning coffee. Chock Full of Nuts makes heavenly coffee but their morning sandwiches are hell to eat competitively. The two slice tasty datebread with the 1/4 inch of cream cheese falls into that food category of, “extended enjoyment” instead of “quick consumption.” At the kiosk in Greeley Square, I noticed NYC morning commuters taking their sweet time enjoying just one sandwich over a twelve-minute period. I’ve seen busy commuters slam a bagel and coffee in the name of multitasking (see www.turnhere.com “Street Cart named Desire”), but the Chock was stopping the clock. I think it might be that the sandwiches taste so good, no one wants to rush through them. I decided to respect the hard work of the kiosk employees that hand make the sandwiches each morning, and savor each bite and not rush during the contest. Clearly, Joey and Pat didn’t get the memo and perhaps realizing that they would be unable to get the sandwiches in San Jose or Chicago decided to fill up their bellies, to take as many back as allowed by the FAA. Sometimes one is spoiled by a hometown food. I wouldn’t mind another shot to get Chock Full O’Sandwiches, so hopefully this ends up a yearly event. I may have to revise my “chew thoroughly to enjoy” strategy. Then again, as of this writing, eating casually since December 20th, just yesterday I finally consumed my 29 1/2 sandwich. Take that Bertoletti! I noticed Hall Hunt had the same dilemma with Pretzel Twister Pretzels. Colonel, keep chewing…007 is your year to take Florida. Looking back on 2006 I am thankful that competitive eating brought me twice to New Orleans post Hurricane Katrina. Nola is a place dear to my stomach, but closer to my heart. While driving through on the GoldenPalace Spring Break tour I witnessed many college kids, passing up partying in South Padre Island or Panama City, to spend a week helping rebuild The Crescent City. Relief and rebuilding efforts are still on going, so if you are inclined the Louisiana Seafood Board recommends giving to the Louisiana Disaster Recovery Foundation @ www.louisianahelp.org. Another way to give something back to the Big Easy is too head there for Mardi Gras, French Quarter Fest, or Jazz Fest. The talented and wobbly Dinshaw’s musical tributes to the city he calls his second home include the tunes, “Crazy Legs: The Oyster King” “The Sweet Life” and “I want to go back down.” His altruism consists of heading to Nola and putting his entire savings back into the local economy, granted withdrawing from his liver, but it’s philanthropy nonetheless. If you find yourself chuggin some Abita Restoration Ale, say hello to all our friends at Acme…Team Bertoletti did. Patricio, The Masticating Magician, downed 53 dozen mollusk to take the long-form Oyster record (temporarily perhaps) from The Black Widow. For now, The Space Dock Kid holds the title of, ‘Baron of the Bi-Valves.” I hope he tipped the shuckers well. Another beloved Louisiana institution is WOW Wingery and Café. You know a place is good if they mention wings in the title twice. World of Wings Wingery and Café is exploding like their Buffalo 3 hot sauce onto the national debris-food stage. Wow restaurants are hopping out of the deep fryer at the rate of one per week and half. I know Sonya’s dream is to own her own Burger King, but perhaps she should reconsider with a WOW franchise. Wings are such a universal food that fans and groupies often ask me from where do all the great wing eaters come? Wow’s sanctioned amateur contest lead one strong eater (Ryan from Houma – 2 lbs 6.25 oz) on the path to the Buffalo Wing Festival. Held every Labor Day in Drew Cerza Country, Buffalo, NY, The Buffalo Wing festival has historically debuted many greats in culinary achievements (Jammin Joe and Coondog O’Karma), wing technology (WOW rookie of the year 2006), and generally the greatest wing eaters have made their bones in Buffalo. It is not a well-known story, but Chip Simpson made the trek as an invited alternate to Buffalo in 2005. He did not eat, but rather stood at the far end of Dunn Tire Park watching the pros tear through wings. He thought to himself, ‘I can do this.” During the Verizon Voice Wing Battle finals in Boston he came in 4th, tying Sonya Thomas. That contest gave him the wing confidence he needed to keep improving. He put down 3 pounds, 15 ounces at the Hard Rock Café to solidify his status in the debris discipline. He returned to Buffalo one year later to win the IFOCE title of Buffalo Wing Eating Champion of the World and the moniker, “Wing King.” Great wing eaters are born on the circuit and I predict several WOW wingers will make great strides in MLE contests in 2007. Wow’s wings are fast wings, with an excellent meat-to-bone ratio (see my stained “Magna Carta of Meat” for further explanation). By the way, with the exception of the great kind Bill Simmons, no circuit bound wingers ever come out of Wing Bowl. I consider El Wingador to be a true champion and a stand-up guy. I look forward to my next trip to Philly to avoid the cheesesteak and check out his restaurant, El Wingador To-Go. I also look forward to hanging with seasoned pros Wing Kong, Steakbellie, and their families. Any time Wing Kong, a bus, and a stripper pole is involved count me in. They throw up an after party that rivals Dale Boone at the 8-minute mark. Steakbellie is the James Fennimore Cooper of blogging and I look forward to more of his “Leatherwing Tales” @ www.steakbellie.blogspot.com. The original Wow in Covington was started by three dedicated brothers, Paul, Steve, and Scott Ballard, and they have made the WOW staff into family as well. From Stephen Carty in development to the road team that opens new franchises, you could not ask for a more dedicated staff. WOW’s conceit is that all wing sauces are not created equal, but all wing sauces should be worldly. Thirty different sauces from around the globe adorn their menu. I managed to check out some of the esoteric fare like Key West Citrus Salsa and their trademarked Australian Taz Raspberry. The trip to Covington gave Ryan Nerz and I opportunity to extensively drive Hurricane Katrina’s damage. From the water stain mid-house level marks in Lakeview to the strewn foundations of the Ninth Ward, the damage is heartbreaking. And remember, this was fifteen months after the clean-up. The sights defy what simple photography tries to explain; one must look beyond the images on our TVs and computers, in our cameras and camcorders. There one sees the spirit of Nola returning - the church with only a façade and a pile of hopeful bricks behind it, the empty house in Lakeview with the spray-painted anthem, “We will rebuild.” I brought Nerz to the shell of the Homedale Inn (which, truth be told, looked somewhat shell-shocked prior to Katrina). The Homedale is a place of musical folklore on the pro-eating circuit. The Knobs, the Eddie Simmons, and Badlands Booker have all graced the Homedale’s slanted stage. Nerz and I found Parry, the owner, with hammer in hand. After helping to rebuild four of his neighbor’s homes (including our good friend Leannane), he was putting the Homedale back together, one 2 x 4 at a time. How beloved is the Homedale’s slanted floor? Parry is putting it back at the same angle so tottering drunks of the future will find their equilibrium as they stumble out. Parry told us that when he was allowed to enter the bar after the floodwater subsided, he surveyed the destruction. The bar had been torn from the floor and floated to the ceiling and then rested upended in the back room. However, amidst the ruin of the place, on the floor sat a perfectly made cocktail, straw and all, filled with Katrina water. It was as if someone had left their drink for a moment to step outside and returned a month later hoping it would still be there. It is. Parry asked the New York crew to come down and musically christen the place when it’s back together. Parry, we’ll be there. Music will be heard from the Homedale, the drinks will flow, and the Fleur de Lis will bloom again. Thanks for digesting this trough-size portion of On the Plate. Stick around the table, because very soon there will be a big Zen announcement…and it will satisfy all your cravings.

	Holidaze Greetings There will be an official On The Plate by next week, however, today Team Zen is inviting everyone out to celebrate today's birthdays of Steve Bucemi, Henry IV, and Ted Nugent. And of course, Zoltan Magyar, the greatest side horse gymnast of all time. I have been told that I also look quite youthful today, but you can judge for yourself. The photo to the right was snapped in Atlantic City as I was asking for more Carmine's Meatballs. We are celebrating with my top three favorite burgers in New York City...all in a row. All are invited. Casual attire required. Wednesday, December 13th 4:33 PM Corner Bistro ( Jane and 4th and 8th ave) “The Bistro Burger” 7:33 McSorely’s (7th off Cooper Union) “Burger, cheese plate, mustard” 9:33 INTERMEZZO (Coyote Ugly 7th and 1st ave) “Appropriate Digestives” 11:33 PJ Clarke’s (55th and 3rd ave) “Blue Cheese Bacon Burger”

	Go Gently into that good night There is no more apt moniker, adage, or phrase that can sum up Eric “Badlands” Booker better than, “The nicest person in competitive eating”. Ask any fan who’s taken a moment of his time or a sharpie autograph from him. Badlands has tired himself out in the sun and the cold, because he refused to leave a contest, a concert, or a restaurant until every person that approached walked away with a smile on their face. And how can one not smile, when one sees Badlands. How many people in the world can you count that always make you instantly smile when they appear? But that’s Badlands. Ignore his voluminous eating accomplishments and records, ignore his transformation from a soft-spoken gentle giant to a crowd-awing rap monster, ignore www.badlandsbooker.com as a groundbreaking website, ignore it all if you can just for a moment to realize that Eric “Badlands” Booker to his innermost core, is simply a wonderful human being. Eating and rapping aside, his unparalleled kindness is his legacy. Badlands recently announced his retirement from contest eating. He will turn his four tenets of a good gurgitator towards the sweet science of the rap game, and no doubt he will succeed. Within the last year or so, The IFOCE has witnessed three monumental eaters hang up their esophagi. Badlands now joins Hungry Charles and Cookie Jarvis in the stomach walls of fame; the pantheon of great eaters past. Charles, the most iconic eater of all time, popped out of retirement briefly to obliterate my french-cut string bean record but spends the majority of his time as the IFOCE commissioner. When the Godfather speaks, people listen. Cookie, always my nemesis on the circuit, maintains a shadow casting presence in pro-eating. Even on the sidelines Cookie’s mouth is always working. Let’s hope that the IFOCE doesn’t sanction a Bigger Fried Fish contest to lure Jarvis back to the table. Both those great men, and now Badlands, can reflect on amazing historical eating careers. I was honored to share the table with them, but more than that I look forward to our lifelong friendships. When the Mount Rushmore of eating is sandblasted and polished, it will be their three stomachs that grace the mountainside. They would wisely agree that every present eater on the circuit today is a pioneer of the sport, shaping its destiny and future. Badlands’ kindness is a beacon. 1998 was the first time I spoke with the Big Man. I, as a starry eyed fan at the Coney Island dogfest, approached the man-mountain. The year before I had charged the stage and received from him a leftover uneaten dog from his plate. The sun-soaked salty goodness of that dog made me realize that no food taste better than the leftovers from a pro-eater’s plate. I had eaten from a gurgitator’s plate, but never spoken to one. I approached Badlands to ask him about his eating style. I had noticed him studying his watch while scarfing bun and dog. In fact, he ate with one hand while looking at the watch on his other wrist. I mentioned this to him because I assumed he was employing Mike “The Scholar” Devito’s scientific approach to pro-eating (“If one eats a hot dog and bun in thirty seconds, in twelve minutes one will have consumed twenty-four hot dogs and buns” - The Tao of Devito). Badlands animatedly replied that he was indeed using the Devito method of consumption. I asked, “How does one make it to the hot dog championship?” Badlands mentioned that one has to win a qualifier, but when you win Nathan’s gives you a year’s supply of hot dogs to practice with. I said, “You ate them all didn’t you?” Badlands smiled broadly and rubbed his belly. That happiness portended things to come. For the last decade Badlands has been hungry and focused. His longevity on the circuit is virtually unparalleled. He has been generous in victory and humorous in defeat. The man is a giant whoopie pie. He is the Buddha of Competitive Eating and I feel honored that I’ve rubbed his belly. My best to the big man and his family. My hungry and out-of-focus future involves a three-day, three city, three contest journey. Not since Alaska have I had the opportunity to eat once a day for three days straight, eating between eight and twelve minutes. I will celebrate Badlands’ retirement at the Buffalo Wing Championship by retiring my own wing style, “The Meat Umbrella”. The Meat Umbrella, a technique involving pinching the hinge or end of the wing and pushing the meat down forming an upside down umbrella shape (Thus avoiding the use of the teeth to separate wing and meat and preventing lock jaw) will now only be utilized in casual wing consumption. It does allow a diner to have one hand sauce-free for their beer, so perhaps The Meat Umbrella will live on in bars and restaurants, much like how karaoke has eked out a permanent existence beyond its initial fad. I will be employing a new debris eating style based on months (actually minutes) of scientific research. I will be focusing on the meat yield aspect of debris contests and have a graph chart of my research that very well may become the Magna Carta of Meat. I will have the framed original, complete with sauce stains for either Drew Cerza’s Buffalo Wing Hall of Fame or available for purchase by goldenpalace.net (one of the sauce stains is the spitting image of Millard Fillmore). Buffalo is one of the most fun stops on the circuit and after I console the Ms Buffalo Wing Pageant runners up at Cole’s on Elmwood Ave, I am off to Atlanta for Waffles. I look forward to the opportunity to eat as many IHOP, I mean, Waffle House waffles as possible. However my chances at covering my travel costs with prize money at this contest is slim. Some sponsors feel that offering an inordinate amount of prize money for first and then a small and illogical prize structure guarantees them a shot at getting one of the top eaters. The IFOCE has done banner work in trying to get larger pay outs for more places and I applaud their efforts. I always believe a sponsor will get more eaters and happier eaters by paying as many places as possible. That ensures that eaters think fondly of certain contests at each media opportunity and to remember to mention IHOP, I mean Waffle House. Of course, I would be on the circuit even if there was no prize money. I eat for the integrity of the sport, the camaraderie of eaters, the travel, the groupies, and of course, the free food. I really like waffles with maple syrup despite being anti-condiment. I’ll be channeling Robin Hood, but not wearing tights, at the Atlanta Contest. Perhaps The Mouth from the South will show up in his tights to cheer me on from the sidelines. After my ten hours in Atlanta I will head to Jacksonville, Florida for one of the Krystal qualifiers. Krystal is a major on the circuit in many ways and eaters love the competition in their hearts and stomachs. www.krystal.com has revolutionized the way that the world sees (and hears about) competitive eating. Advancements in web and cellphone technology allow fans to follow all the action, every qualifier, every bite. I don’t have internet access at home, nor a cellphone, however, the understanding Krystal folk have agreed to send smoke signals to NYC so I can keep up. As I am typing this in an internet cafe in the east village, I witnessed a large cloud in the shape of a spider and then sixty-two puffs of smoke that followed it. Thank you Krystal. I look forward to being on stage in Jacksonville to watch Joey “Jaws” Chesnut break the world record (and lap me in the process). I have had a good run in Florida, but with competitors like Jamming Joe Larue and Colonel Hall Hunt, I have a feeling my run is about to end. I can only hope that Joe is so pleased with the outcome of the creative sauce cooking contest in Buffalo the day before that he doesn’t care what happens in Larue/Conti 2 (Uno Mas). Perhaps Hall has forgotten last year’s qualifier (Uno Mas Krystal) but I doubt it. Perhaps I should just say, “No Mas” to eating in Florida, but I really want to complete the Triple Lindy this Labor Day weekend. So with a few armfarts to loosen up, I’ll be laboring with wings, waffles, and hamburger sliders. The only other time the IFOCE schedule allowed for a three city, three contest tour I missed the third contest. I was on the plane (sans Acoma pottery but satiated with St. Louis toasted ravioli and Sky City Posole) and was landing as Badlands devoured 4 3/8 Pumpkin Pies in six minutes. Hungry Charles and Cookie finished second and third respectively. Their food stained jerseys will be missed. On The Plate: Dessert... Speaking of greats of gurgitating, congrats to Don “Moses” Lerman for throwing his embroidered hat into the sphincter ring of the recent jalapeño contest. It shows remarkable resolve just to compete in such a difficult discipline. I don’t know if he won any Acoma pottery, but if he did, it would sure make my Mom happy.

	On the Plate June (just past the June Expiration date) The June On The Plate is well overdue. I was working on a piece titled, “The Pizza Education of Patrick Bertoletti”, however, it looks like that one will have to wait until July. I know by the time you read this it will be July, but tonight I’m in a June kind of mood. June is a frenzied month in competitive eating. It has been quite a month so far, from bratwurst to shoo fly pie, and of course the home stretch of the Nathan’s qualifiers. Nathan’s brings out the best (occasionally the worst) in eaters and this year’s circuit was the closest and toughest yet. The circuit started on April 15th and will conclude July 3rd. There is nothing like the last qualifier;one so close to Coney Island that you can smell the sea breeze mix of salt and garlic. Last year, with the bulk of the greatest eaters watching, I qualified at Shea Stadium on July 2nd, an entire day after the weigh in ceremony. This year the last second Thai qualifier is cutting it even closer to the big eat; a mere day before. The hunger to join the pantheon of gustatory gladiators at Coney will override common sense, financial concern, and tight pants as eaters will make their way to Keyspan Park for the final final showdown. Two men are bookending the hot dog qualifying circuit. Erik “The Red” Denmark was desperate for one more chance at the table after a narrow loss in San Fran and now he has got it. From is first bite of an actual Nathan's dog in Florida all the way to the West Coast, Red has improved by huge stomach steps. For someone to eat the “Deuce” in the course of their first Nathan’s bid used to be rare. We have seen from the amazing freshman class of eaters, that rare only refers to uncooked dogs. I hope that Erik can get his elusive deuce in his last go round. Jammin Joe Larue will be there too, looking skyward for the heavens to part and the hot dog Gods to grant him a personal best kind of day. I think he has to only look down at his plate to know that those wieners don’t stand a chance against such a great veteran eater. Perhaps, Don “Moses” Lerman will be there. The past four July 4th, Don and I have always had an early morning chat about his day old bread business. Not many people know that he also sold fresh cake. For Don, I hope the poly grip holds. I wish Beautiful Brian Seiken would eat as well. He has made such improvements in dunking technique and not talking with his mouth full during the contest that it seems a shame for him to not eat dogs, just one last time. Go for fifteen, BB, and you go out strong. I was a fan before I was an eater, so it will be a thrill to cheer you guys on to victory. Much like the finals at Coney Island, I think this contest will be a bun buzzer beater...down to the last bite. I wish all the eaters well, those who will be at the table on the 4th and those who attempted to get there. The road to the championship can be ardous and difficult, but it makes the dogs taste that much better. The buns, of course, taste just as soggy. I try to carry myself as an ambassador of the sport and treat all pro gurgitators with respect. So I guess, I’ll even wish Dale “The Mouth from the South” Boone well in his quest for rib glory in Memphis on July 3rd . He will have his overalls full fending off Bubba Yarbrough and perhaps even battling the ghost of one of his fellow bloated brethren. Let’s hope Elvis stays in the building this time. As for his recent feckless delusional rant; I can only think most of his recent weight loss must have come from having his frontal lobes removed. I thought of hiring legal counsel, but I’ve decided that Dale’s false claims can only mean that I have permission to write, discuss, and laugh at all things Dale Buffoon related with the utmost honesty. “In truth, gorging” There will be plenty of ribs leftover in Memphis that can be served in Cherokee or Chinook. I have a feeling that in those contest others will savor the sweet meat of victory. But onto the joy of Nathan’s and my fifth time in as many years at at the table. The media gets as excited about the Fourth of July as the eaters do. Due to competitive eating’s recent rise in interest, I’ve found myself talking to people whom one would assume are not typical eating fans. Yet, pro eating fascinated them. Over the last two days, besides my personal best in nationwide local radio interviews (8 in ninety minutes) I had an interesting medley of Sirius radio visits. The immortal Cousin Brucie was a agog at the physiology of the eaters. I tried to convince him that Humble Bob’s Shoudt Shea Stadium victory this year was just as exciting as when Cousin Brucie introduced the Beatles there in 1964. I was also a guest on the Wiseguy show featuring all the knockaround guys from the Sopranos and Mulberry Street. These guys sit around a picnic table as Italian food is delivered and muse about what makes a good tiramisu or why Cha Cha’s has the best gelato. Or how to break somebody’s arm if they don’t think Cha Cha’s has the best gelato. As soon as I sat down, they quizzed me on the origins of my last name and them made me eat a tray of thirteen meatballs in two minutes. I seemed to have earned my keep, but then Joey Rags and Uncle Floyd got mad that there were no meatballs left. My next radio interview was with Judith Regan. As an avid reader and a fan of her division of HarperCollins books, I was honored to be on her show. At first she was staid and conservative about the wonders of pro eating, but when I described Sonya Thomas to her, she found a new hero. Judith is hoping to break into pro eating in one of the dessert disciplines. Speaking of dessert or at least cheesecake; Playboy Satellite Radio asked me to oversee their “mouth fitting’ Contests. Sadly, I was not there in person when a half-naked girl named Melissa fit a Playboy record 7 hot dogs (no buns) in her mouth. Hopefully, I will be when they next attempt the unwieldy pudding. It is amazing that from radio pornographers to food brutes to lofty literati, everyone wants a bite (sound or otherwise) of competitive eating. My most often heard soundbite during this hot dog build-up has to do with the fact that two rookies are going to eat over thirty hot dogs and buns; That a tiny woman will likely eat forty; that an American eater will break the fifty barrier; that Humble Bob,The Las Vegas Locust, Badlands, and Eater X will head towards Larry Bird numbers; and that Takeru Kobayashi, the greatest athlete in the history of sport, will attempt his sixth stuff of the bejeweled yellow mustard belt...My most often verbalized thought is that this fourth of July will be more historically important, than say, 1776. I am just happy to be at the far end of the table struggling to get to twenty-five while in the middle, Joey “Jaws” Chestnut and Kobayashi quaff twice that amount. The pressure of their task can only be compared to the pressure in their bellies. This fourth of July will be more historically... The pregame hoopla will be extra special as well. I was at Coney hanging off a lamp post to get a better view in 1997 when my all time favorite eater, Mike “The Scholar” Devito’s mustard stained jersey was retired. I am still wiping the tears from my eyes. This year I’ll be wiping the powdered sugar spray that will be coming off the great Cookie Jarvis’ trenchcoat. That coat not only has scared small children with it’s relistic mini-jarvis, but is a testment to one of the greats. Cookie was often my nemesis at the table, but away from the game I was honored to have him call me at home. Every day. I’ve noticed a certain Jarvis swagger and the similar physical poetry (also the fanny pack) in some of the newer eaters on the circuit. Guys like Brickhouse Braunstein and particularily Jim “The Hammer” Hammrick, seem to be channelling the big man as if his spirit (and fanny pack) have been reincarnated on the circuit. Sort of a Cookie 2.0. Congrats Cookie, you deserve all the accolades you give yourself and more. Coney Island will be a wonderful freakshow as usual. Rumor has it my best friend Little Jimmy will square dance off against the limber Pat from Moonachie in the first ever billed, “Dance to the Death”. I also look forward to seeing the Bun Fairy, who may not enjoy thespectacle of soggy buns and shriveled wieners, but looks great in her wings. If you are coming to Coney be sure to say hello to me and the FHM gang after the contest at Ruby’s on the boardwalk. That’s where great eaters and FHM staffers relax with barley and hops digestives. I’ll have flyers to the official unofficial after-party in Williamsburg. If you are watching ESPN home be sure to raise a hot dog toast to a great day, not only for America, but for the world. Eat All You Can!

	Hot Dog Marathon to Boston Marathon “I’m trying to get Wayne Norbitz to put up a $50,000 bounty on Kobayashi; Whoever beats him, gets the money”. Donald Perlyn squints in the Florida evening sun as he says this. I reply that the bounty would travel around the globe generating stellar publicity for Nathan’s. Usually a bounty is placed on one’s head, not their stomach, but it’s certainly an interesting proposal. Don is a high ranking Nathan’s executive based in Florida. He is the man with the golden pitch, establishing Nathan’s dogs in malls, movie theaters, and non-Nathan’s franchised food parlors. I like Don; he looks like the actor who plays Jeffery Lebowski (not The Dude, the other one). It’s odd to be talking to Don on April 15th at a Nathan’s qualifier because Hot Dog season usually starts a Month and half later. But here we are in Sunrise, Florida in the parking lot of the Florida Panthers Stadium. I am a carpetbagger in this contest. Pro Eating has gotten so cutthroat that hometown heroes have no territorial claim over their qualifiers. In the old days, one would respect other eaters’ turf. In 2002 a longtime Boston charity, Eddie Andelman's Hot Dog Safari, was announced as the kick-off qualifier. For three years in a row, I watched the voluminous Cookie Jarvis take what I felt was my hometown destiny away from me. He could have waited until the Long Island qualifier which he could have easily won, however, each year a rumbling plane set down at Logan airport with King Cookie on it and each year my rumbling stomach was left void of victory. I was channeling Cookie’s swagger (sans fannypack) as I flew into Fort Lauderdale on this Easter/Passover week-end (fortunately, I am a Thermalist so no religious conflict would hold me from the table). My sole focused goal was to earn my spot at Nathan’s 4th of July International Hot Dog contest. I was of singular mind and stomach. As Badlands Booker has rapped, “I was hungry and focused.” The texture and temperature of the dogs was of no concern, my palette cared only for the taste of victory. Last year Boston had been downgraded to a non-qualifier. I went anyway. Against a field of casual diners I ate 18 hot dogs and buns. The nearest competitor was a NASCAR radio host who had consumed a whopping seven. I spent the next two and half months on the Hot Dog circuit chasing the elusive deuce. I achieved it on the last and latest qualifier in the history of Coney at Shea Stadium on July 2nd. The Weigh In had even taken place the day before. However, The Shea (Rich and George) at Shea (Stadium) day was a historical day in pro eating. It was Nathan’s day at the ballpark and the top eaters in the world had gathered to watch Kobayashi throw out the first pitch. Prior to Kobayashi fastball down the middle, the final qualifier had taken place outside the stadium. Oleg “The Great” Zhornitskiy took the title and won the spot at Nathan’s. Oddly his nickname would change to Oleg “The Mediocre” Zhornitskiy as on the 4th, for some unknown reason, he failed to show up for the big eat. However, four other eaters, journeyman of the wiener wildcard spot, were in close contention for the last invitation to Coney. The wildcard spot is awarded to the eater who has the highest averaged tally from three qualifiers. George Shea was on hand with a calculator, a torn scrap of paper, and the quadratic equation, should it be needed. Of the four eaters, Humble Bob Shout was in the crowd, hoping that his previous totals would hold up. Myself, Big Brian Subich, and Alan “The Shredder” Goldstein were on stage. Both the Shredder and I had a magic number of twenty. I was confident that I could reach my first “deuce” for two reasons: I had trained, and I was inspired. I was inspired because the night before I met one of my all time heroes, Corey Feldman. He was performing in the off-off Broadway play, “Fatal Attraction: The Greek Tragedy”. After his opening night he took the time to talk to me outside the theater. He signed my VHS copy of “The Goonies” and I gave him a VHS copy of “Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”. Amazingly, his newborn first son was named, “Zen”. I explained my goal the next day and he encouraged me to stand upright. I agreed that letting gravity do its work was important in a contest. After he and his wife rode off in a cab, I noticed a strewn pair of suspenders on the ground outside the East Village Theater. I assumed that perhaps they were Corey’s and that perhaps this was his way of guaranteeing that my posture conformed to what he felt the deuce required. I wore them the next day at Shea. It was a close and exciting contest. At one point Big Brian’s water cups overturned sending a tidal wave of ice tea and meat flotsam down the table. Hungry Charles was on hand clearly formulating and fine-tuning judging standards. Cookie Jarvis lorded over the table in his overcoat. Despite announcing his retirement from Nathan’s he had hopped into the Long Island qualifier at the last minute. Clearly rooting for the Shredder he watched my every bite and even swirled my cups post contest, like a tea leaf reader. The shredder ate 19.5 I ate twenty. As Alan stood at the back of the stage with orange-ish hot dog snot dribbling out of his nose, he looked crestfallen. There is a camaraderie among eaters, a brotherhood and sisterhood of consumption. I was elated that I had eaten the deuce and was going to Coney, but I could empathize with The Shedder’s mental anguish and physical discomfort. From matzo balls to cannoli the Shredder and I have had many close battles. After the contest I vowed to spend the year training so that my Shea deuce would be the first of many. This year as hot dog season approached, I trained like I never have before. Six weeks out I was training not only for the 12 minute marathon of eating, but also for the 26.2 mile Boston Marathon. I intertwined the two and their many components. Heartbreak Hill is the eight minute wall in hot dogs, both require expert hydration from drinking to dunking, and both are about using your mind to control your body’s limitations…zenning your way to the finish line. I took an ML Carr approach to the Nathan’s qualifiers. I signed up for just one and I planned on eating 22 hot dogs and buns. ML Carr was one of the Celtic greats from the 1980’s. He was good player, but he was a master mind strategist. The first round of the NBA playoffs was a best of five series. The Celtics would win the first two at home and then have to travel. The possibility existed that they would be on the road for two games in three nights. However, ML would show up at the airport in only the suit he was wearing. “Where’s your luggage, ML” the other players would ask. ML would strongly reply, he needed only the suit he was wearing because the plane was flying right back to Beantown after the win tonight. No questions, no doubt, no luggage. Around me eaters stood in the shade as Panthers hockey fans gathered around the stage. This year every regional will have six to seven ranked pros and the opening night of nitrates yielded a stacked field. Jammin Joe is the three year Florida defending champ. He is a massive man whose features look chiseled out of granite. He’ll enter a conversation by saying, “Gentleman, the pleasures all yours”, but he is genuinely modest about his food accomplishments. As a professional chef as well as an eater he has a unique view of food ascetic and consumption. When a hurricane knocked out his car and his chance to eat Krystals in Jacksonville, he took it in stride. During hurricane season instead of asking for aid, he sent care packages out of Florida. I received a huge box of short sleeved ruffled tux shirts. Several of his shirts were raffled off at NOLA benefit on the lower east side. Jammin Joe knows fashion and altruism. Colonel Hall Hunt is here, having had a good Friday, but hoping for a better Saturday. Loren “Bubba” Yarbrough, an 18 dog eater at last year’s Atlanta qualifier has driven a long way to get to Sunrise. Next to him scowls Larry the Legend. Erik “The Red” Denmark has flown across the entire US to taste his first Nathan’s dogs. He was unable to train with the real thing in Seattle and having meat mailed is always a risky proposition. Rumor had it that Eric “The Bro” Broe, a Florida college eater who had a solid key lime finish on Goldenpalace.net's world series of competitive eating, was going to throw his esophagus into the ring. The Bro didn’t show. Even the fill-in eaters were past stars of competitive eating A disheveled Michael “Per Diem” Parrish showed up with the forethought that he would be bringing home leftovers. Per Diem won Florida in 2002 by eating a paltry 13. Today, that total won’t get you near the top five finishers. Ed Taboata Jr. a stalwart of past gurigitating was also on hand having recently moved to Florida because the humidity added an extra moistness to the dogs not found in the Northeast. Bryan Miller of the Krystal Burger circuit was here to prove that IFOCE rank #45 would be a thing of the past; hoping to move up the culinary charts with a bun-breakout performance And then as the sun went briefly behind the clouds, it was dinnertime at the table. I wish I could describe every nuance of the contest, but the truth is I was focused on my plate and my plate alone. I could faintly hear Ryan Nerz on the microphone, but mostly I heard voices in my head. Voices like Chris Kenneally’s who encouraged me to stay loose, and not tense every muscle in determination. Voices like Eater X’s and Humble Bob’s telling me to believe in the hard work and training, and the voice of my personal goddess, the bun fairy, whose manta, “Hurry slowly” had become my eating style. As the contest wound down, I was pretty sure I had the lead. I was a bite away from my 22nd, when time was called. It is common knowledge on the circuit, despite not making commissioner Hungry Charles Hardy’s recent open letter at www.ifoce.com, that each eater must consume equal amounts of hot dog and bun. .75 of a consumed bun, but only .5 of a consumed dog counts only as a .5 towards one’s total. I was not in LA when Ray “The Bison” ate 18 buns, but only 17 dogs vs. Boyd Bullot's 17.5 of each. At that close contest the rule should have come into play, however, a one minute overtime was deemed necessary. Would the rule come into play today in Sunrise? I stepped back from the table as the judges and Ryan Nerz studied each plate. Bryan Miller and Colonel Hall Hunt had put up impressive numbers with 19 and 18 respectively. It took a solid five minutes to determine that Jammin Joe and I had tied at 21.5 hot dogs and buns. A one minute overtime was called and the Nathan’s folk scrambled to find any leftover hot dogs and buns. A hot dog overtime is a grueling spectacle for eater and fan alike. It is like finishing a marathon and then being asked to tack on a 100 yard dash. However, it is moments like the one minute eatathon that make pro eating as exciting as it can be. One year in Boston, Cookie Jarvis was forced into an OT after consuming 22 in regulation. He credits that contest with giving him the belief that his capacity and mind were capable of breaking the thirty dog barrier. If not for OT, Cookie may never realized the fortitude encased in his winding intestines. My own overtime history reads like a catering menu at a wedding. While the Nathan’s folk search for fresh dogs I think back on overtimes of eating past. In a pork rib contest in Cherokee, North Carolina, Rich LeFevre and Tim Janus had an OT to decide first place. A portly Dale Boone was on hand and on his cell phone reporting his stats to the gossipmongers while Larry The Legend and I were set to duke it out for fourth place and $500. Larry, who in recent events seems legendary for his big mouth yet small stomach, out ate me and took home the prize. It was his best pro eating performance ever and I had a long 13 hour drive back to New York to reflect on my difficulties with the debris food. A plate is placed in front of me with all the buns overturned and a soggy napkin at the bottom. Despite my belief that the best tasting food in the world is the leftovers from a competitor’s plate, these dogs had resigned themselves to a 12 minute fate and clearly had nothing left for an OT. I asked for a less sloppy plate In a Matzo ball OT years ago, I tied Joe Menchetti and Hungry Charles Hardy with 12 floaters in 2 minutes 50 seconds. In the OT, I overstuffed in the last seconds and could not contain mouth or myself. I suffered the first of my only two reversals on the circuit (my second one was at the Carmine’s Meatball Championships). Much to my displeasure Ben’s website even posted my roman incident. Not everything you read or see on the internet is true, but my mealy mouthed overstuff was truth in pixels. The next plate of dogs is not soggy, but the buns are dry and crumbled. I ask Joe if he minds if we replace this plate so as no preexisting detritus will confuse the judges. He agrees and at last fresh dogs and buns are placed in front of me. I have one cup of water, a full belly of bread and meat, but my mind is channeling Choi Min-Sik’s Oh Dae-Su from “Old Boy”. I want to eat something alive. As I stare at five dogs, five buns and destiny. Cannoli, the delectable Italian desert is the farthest thing from my mind. As a rookie, I ate 18 and tied for third with the IFOCE bib wearing Joe Menchetti and The Mouth from The South, Dale Buffoon. In the two cannoli overtime, I sensed the ricotta cheese and my speed slipping away as Dale licked his lips in victory. Two years later I would find myself tied for third again, this time with the formidable Alan “The Shredder” Goldstein. This time we would go to triple OT. Described by some “The Thrilla with Vanilla” and by Beautiful Brian as, “The most thrilling three rounds of competitive eating in history”, it was an exhausting yet exhilarating moment in the sweet science of sweet eating. Both of us trembling from a caffeinated sugar-high, we had to find the stomach strength to eat on. The Shredder made it happen and as his triumphant fists were raised in joyous victory, my mind wandered to the musings of Emily Dickinson and a poem that was etched into my brain: Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell, the definition, So clear, of victory, As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break, agonized and clear. Emily Dickinson never ate in a one minute hot dog overtime, but she sure knew her stuff. And stuffing Jammin Joe and I went. In my peripheral vision I could see Joe’s dogs, but then all senses shut off. I shut out the $500 dollars I had spent to arrive in Florida, I shut out the fact that I had signed up for one qualifier and all others were filled to capacity, I shut out the physical discomfort and shook off the meat sweats. I ripped an errant dreadlock from my mouth (I had also almost consumed one in regulation) and put another dog in. I shut out the notion of winning or losing. I simply ate all that I could in one minute. Time was called and the judges behind me began shouting for the eaters to swallow (What one has consumed counts only after one swallows what is in their mouth as quickly as possible). I picked up my cup of water and chugged the entire 16 ounces to clear my mouth. Of all the moments in the contest, this is the one I am most proud of. My mouth clear, I stepped back from the table and judges swarmed in. It is close. It is as close as it gets. It is the closest contest in Florida history, maybe hot dog history. Ryan Nerz and several judges scrutinize the plates, other eaters peered over shoulders waiting for the definitive announcement. This was an overtime for the ages and in this overtime, I had eaten more. Ryan Nerz makes the announcement, I wave to the crowd. There is no trophy on hand, but I don’t need one. The twenty-five hot dogs in my belly are my trophy and I am not about to give them up. Don Peryrln congratulates me and hands me a towel. I wipe my face and step into a camera interview. Behind me I can hear Jammin Joe argue his case for another OT. My heart and stomach go out to him, much like it did for the Shredder the year before. The camaraderie, the brotherhood and sisterhood of pro eating, is a strong one, but at the table, despite the support, you are eating alone. I was standing alone with the local new camera running. I talked about Kobayashi and close calls. In any pro sport there are close calls and buzzer beaters, last second shots and stuffs. I don’t know what I said exactly; my stomach was full, but my mind was empty. I wish I had simply said that Jammin Joe had reason to celebrate. He had carried the state of Florida on his massive shoulders and would likely do so again. What better way to kick-off hot dog season than with a stomach beating finish and an OT of epic proportions and portions. I was elated to be a part of the contest and still am, despite the amount of venomous accusation, conjecture, speculation, and falsehoods published on various eating sites and forums. Then again, William Hazlitt said, “When a thing ceases to be a subject of controversy, it ceases to be a subject of interest”. The sun is setting in Sunrise, I change from my Nathan’s T-shirt to my lucky purple Hawaiian shirt and stare at the sky. One marathon down, one to go. My esophagus is as sore as my hamstrings, but I’m ready to run to the next challenge. I would take in the Florida Panthers hockey game and then head from Florida to New York to Boston for Monday’s Marathon. Making Coney has been a dream for the last five years, but completing the Boston Marathon has been a life long dream. I talk to Jammin Joe who said he is pissed, but still loves me and we got our separate ways. I think of the truly legendary Stu Birdy, who on his best day could only muster 10 hot dogs and buns, yet had the amazing ability to realize how fun competitive eating is and is suppose to be. Stu is the patron saint of the golden hot dog, a guy who knows that tomorrow the sun will rise again and smile on us all. Later, I sat uncomfortably digesting the dogs during the pro hockey game. After three periods of play, the score was tied. Across the arena I noticed Jammin Joe get up from his seat and turn his back to the game. He looked stoic, not defeated, but he had enough overtimes for the day and he walked out of the arena. I’d love to see him walk off the Bus of Champions this Fourth of July. He has two more chances to qualify, but knowing Joe’s spirit, I think he’ll only need one. Other eaters should fear a man who has survived a hot dog OT and raised the bun on their personal best. If this On The Plate is posted in time, while I am enjoying some crab cakes and Natty Boh beer in Baltimore, you will likely be reading about Jammin Joe LaRue breaking the all time sweet corn record and repeating as King of the Kernels. I wish him, and all eaters well this week-end; making history and mirth, one mouthful at a time.

	March, 2006 Greetings On The Plate readers. I would imagine that your appetite for words has shrunk due to delayed feedings here at Zen Headquarters. I have been neglecting my on the plate duties, however, I have been eating and writing elsewhere. Check out a brand new site www.turnhere.com for some very cool short walking films. When “Zen and the Art” played the LA film festival Chris, Dani, and I met Kelly Duane a talented young filmmaker and a hip lady to boot. She is now one of the original creative founders of turnhere. It is a site dedicated to exploring the world, one neighborhood at a time. Please head to turnhere and check out some of the films. For some familiar faces from the Zen doc, be sure to watch the following films: “Lower East Side”, “Hook Up in Central Park”, “NYC Pizza 1 and 2”, “Hell’s Kitchen” “Hunter Mountain” and “East Village” with the Drunk Poet and “West Village” with Chris Campion. I am also blogging for www.turnhere.com. I recently posted a blog about the loss of the Second Ave Deli where I would do my Matzoh ball training every year. Sadly, the Matzoh ball contest has disappeared as well, much to the chagrin of gurgitators who found those mealy bread balls (sans soup) soft, palatable, and fast. At least in the regionals when the “floaters’ were used. The finals always featured, “The sinkers” and eater’s numbers usually shrank, except for Badlands who would eat the softball sized lumps like grapes. The blog for turnhere is my second attempt at blogging. I also kept a daily online journal for the MTV movie award popcorn eating contest. More and more, cyberspace seems to be the place for aspiring writers to make their mark. Eating wise, there are entire sites and blogs devoted to the Pro Eating circuit and lifestyle. Forums for eaters, online articles, training secrets, and contest announcements are now primarily online. I still retain my stubborn old school tendencies: I watch movies on VHS, I don’t own a cell phone, and I more often open a book, than the internet. I do communicate by email and I thank the many fans who send me word at Crazylegs@crazylegsconti.com. However, I can only access the internet on the sly at work. Granted, I work at a swanky strip club so the perils of the internet don’t have to be as closely avoided. My daily routine is to start the day off with a large amount of oatmeal and scroll through the competitive eating sites. I’ve found that in the last two years the time devoted to this has gone from about three minutes to at least an hour. There are a plethora of sites for the competitive eating gourmets and gourmands. Dig your spoon into your own oatmeal and take a look: www.ifoce.com You must go here first because this is where the action starts. Besides, the dry wit of the Brothers Shea all contests and registration take place here. Also it is a good place to see how you stand in certain food groups. The only rankings and records that count are stored in the IFOCE vault. It is well refrigerated. www.bigbrian.org Like my favorite jazz bar in NYC, Arthur’s, it is always Christmas at Big Brian’s daily thoughts. Still, I know the sleeping giant some call Yellowcake will awake soon from his hibernation and start stomping the competition, as well as update his website www.humblebob.com Hungry Charles is the Godfather of Competitive Eating, but I think of Humble Bob as the Online Guru. His daily thoughts are always complimentary and flattering to eating and each eater. He also seems to act as team leader in various forums, promoting the sport and his love of it. No internet search would be complete without a visit to the first lady of competitive eating’s site. www.sonyatheblackwidow.com is a site that amazes me as much as the 100 pound widow’s stomach capacity does. She is always generous to other eaters, despite her fierce competitive nature. Her site was once the one with the fastest breaking news. After last years taco championships, I swallowed my 29th taco (Sonya was swallowing her 48th) and sprinted cross-town to get back to work (I was on my lunch break). I popped the internet up while I knew Sonya was still on the stage conducting interviews. The results were already posted…she’s fast at everything. www.badlandsbooker.com My next stop is if my coffee hasn’t jumpstarted the day yet. A few seconds of Badlands’ hip hop food pop gets the engine started. For him, it is the Ingestion Engine (“Hungry and Focused 2”), but one can also hear a few cuts off of “Hungry and Focused” to get the bloodstream pumping and the intestines loosened. Recently his clothing line “6X since 1998”, got some great street cred as Wet Levi was arrested outside of a tiki bar shorn in one of Badlands t-shirts. Way to go Levi. I am hoping that Badlands will perform live at the Free Wet Levi benefit concert. If I am in a bad mood I next head to www.donmoseslerman.com, just the biblical intro of Don “Moses” Lerman parting all those hot dogs will cheer me up. I am also a big Gustoff Zhychick fan. Don recently announced his own online news channel. It is news in CAPITAL LETTERS, and as Don would say, “It’s fooooor the record”. CNN should watch its back. If the morning finds me needing a 7-foot blow-up lawn dreidel, then I head immediately to www.hugeeaters.com I look forward to the preposterously loud music and Cookie Jarvis announcing his retirement, then his unretirement, then his retirement again. Like the tide going out and coming back in, I never tire of the Big Man’s boasts. On casual Fridays, I’ll check out a few blog style sites. Eric “The Red” Denmark www.erikdenmark.blogspot.com , Skinny Boy www.dogsarefunyes.blogspot.com and The Erbivore www.theerbivore.com do a good job of updating their latest training with writing and photos. All are great boons to the sport (Notice I said boon and not Boone, and I said it nicely) Next I’ll head to the only fan site I peruse. www.eaterx.blogspot.com is a site written by Eater X’s number one fan, The Whaler. Some posts are sad others poignant, but it is the only site that can brings tears of pain or tears of joy to my face. I know Eater X is always too hard on himself, so it is nice to see that he has The Whaler to go easy on him. I’m not sure that the Whaler is not actually novelist Tim Robbins. This site may not have the most competitive eating discussion, but it has the best esoteric humor on (or off) the planet. I should mention that the girls at www.urbanhonking.com are not just fans, but serious (ahem) journalists who have covered the pro eating scene. I put them in the same class as stomach scribes like Gersh Kuntzman, Steve Rushin, Mike Malone, Mr. Cutlets, Chuck Harris, Peter DeMarco, Alfred Ryan Nerz (I’m sure I’ll be adding www.eatthisbook.com to the morning routine), Jessica Cogan, Darren Rovell, Rebecca Wallwork, Adria Dunn, and the whole gang at FHM … Next comes the bulkiest part of the oatmeal; the comprehensive sites with forums for the eaters and fans. I will state it now and for the record, I never have posted in forums nor online. Long ago I learned to separate my identity from my ego. At times in the past five years my name was raised to the rafters at the same time others were banishing it to the basement. I have allowed filmmakers, tv shows, radio hosts, journalists and writers to form their own opinions as to who I am. I am happier that way. “Zen and the Art” was critically acclaimed by all except my beloved NY Post. The Post called me a greasy haired slacker who failed in life despite promising backgrounds. Of course, months later Page Six would list me as, “Legendary”. In the same year that the Village Voice voted me their favorite competitive eater, a site devoted to casual diners, picnickers, and hobbyists referred to me as a mediocre sham. What can I say, good, bad…bring it on. Remember that just because it’s online doesn’t make it true, however, I do read the forums and I think that they are valuable. Eaters are more open, the trash talk is fresher (but still could use spell check), and competitive eating is everywhere. Many eaters have myspace accounts (Why doesn’t Chip Simpson have a photo he’s a good looking guy) but most seem to post comments on the following sites: p105..ezboard.com/bthebuffet I first met Larry the Legend just after he beat me in overtime in a steamed pork rib eating contest in Cherokee, NC. I had driven with Eater X thirteen hours through rain, sleet, and the mountains only to finish out of the money. I assumed that this guy who looked like a former band mate of GG Allen, was a rough and tumble character. The truth is Larry is a smart intelligent all around nice guy. I find his site somewhat hard to navigate and those pop-ups are as dangerous as sitting in the front row of a Mouth from the South jambalaya contest, however the Southern Eaters are well represented and their quest for gurgitory glory is as vast as their appetites. www.trencherwomen.com this site has become the standard by which all others are judged by and most can’t compete with this uber-comprehensive informational site. The mysterious OJ Rifkin is like the man behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz or the lever puller in Jon Barth’s “Lost in the Funhouse”. Regardless, if it regards competitive eating it is likely to be found in a trench on Trencherwomen. The write ups maintain a neutral air, while the forums are less civil. I will be inviting enigmatic OJ to the most important competitive eating fundraiser of 2006. Perhaps he or she will hopefully show up. I will formally invite all of you too. Check out for www.coneyislandusa.com and get your tickets to the “City Of Fire” event to help save Coney Island. If you can’t make it please pledge per mini-hot dog @ . Your personal invitation will be in the email soon. www.beautifulbrian.com I call BB’s site’s bits and pieces the Page Seven of pro eating. If it’s slanderous, gossipy, or boastful you’ll find it at this most amusing site. Granted, the site looks like it was designed by Fisher Price’s “My First Website”, but the content is pure edible gold. Now that BB has started his online talk show I usually don’t start my workday until hours of web watching have passed. BB is a man who hates to be wronged, and loves it when he’s right. He is a proponent of the lesser known eater who deserves accolades, respect and attention. He’s our own Norma Rae, Lenny Bruce, and Wayne and Garth rolled into one. I keep waiting to hear his mother yell down into the basement, “Brian who are you talking to?” You gotta love this guy and his site, even if he hates Hollow Hal Schimmel. Though I don’t post (although I do personally answer all the emails that come to this site) I think the online community of eating is the wave of the future. Speaking of the future on my last bite of oatmeal I like to see the future, so I click on www.futureofeating.com that Joey Chestnut can sure eat fast, however he is pretty slow at putting up a website. Of course, he’s right…the future is always coming. And so is my busy workday…but I’ll check the sites tomorrow. I’m always hungry for eating news.

	New Year This an open letter to the eaters of the world, I have never written an open letter before; I imagine it is a lot like an open-faced sandwich. Generally, the open-faced sandwich will please some with it’s chaos of ingredient placement, while others will wonder why not just put the bread together. An open-faced sandwich allows the covering of a river of gravy, an open letter can also lay it on pretty thick. Because it is the holiday season, I will try maintain a open-faced letter tone with the viscosity of maple syrup. I’ll save the sweet stuff for the end. I would implore every Gustatory Gladiator (term coined by George Shea) or Trained Gourmand (term coined by Don “Moses” ) to look back on 2005 and revel in an amazing year of eating. The IFOCE brought over 100 events to the table. The circuit was satiated with incredible amounts of prize money, teetering trophies, swanky jerseys, and of course, free food. But even those who made no prize money, won no trophies, stained no jerseys, left the table with something more than a distended stomach. That eater, man or woman, hopefully felt the camaraderie that exists in Competitive Eating; a brotherhood and sisterhood of peristaltic partners (just coined now). Perhaps in the words of the immortal eater Stu Birdy, that eater thought, “Hey, we’re having fun.” Stu may have tapped out at eight hot dogs, but his positive energy was digested long beyond the twelve minute mark. We witnessed all the that one could hope for in sport such as the birth of a new generation of stellar rookie eaters. A young upstart like Joey “Jaws” leading the rookies to unparalleledd consumption - stunning the world with 32 hot dogs and buns on the fourth of July, challenging in Krystal Burgers, and recently sending a shockwave to lactose intolerant support groups by consuming a gallon of whole milk in 41 seconds. We witnessed the graceful exit of an icon, Hungry Charles Hardy, the Godfather of the Competitive Eating hanging up his fork and knife – retiring to accept the position of Commissioner of the. That position recently vacated by my all time favorite eater, Mike “The Scholar”. Mike has moved on to spearhead the IFOCE’s philanthropy efforts – providing food and clothing for the other hungry people in the world. We witness the rise and fall of some of the elder statesmen on the circuit, literally and figuratively. Cookie Jarvis made a resounding comeback by consuming eight pounds of whole grapes at the Smirnoff Twisted Grape World Grape Eating Championship, and then he fell off the stage. Fortunately, the grapes cushioned his fall and Dave Baer (whom was under Cookie’s expanding shadow) remains unflattend to this day . But not unflattered . Dave is the director of operations and is in charge of Global Expansion. Speaking of getting hungry locally, but eating globally, The UK got it’s first real taste of Pro Eating. Robert “Babyface” Burns parlayed his meat pie skills into a trip to Japan to meet Kobeyashi, and a trip to Coney Island to witness Kobeyashi's hot dog dominance. The UK also got two other special treats, a BBC1 story with Anna Watson who leads all journalist with seven hot dogs consumed, and a screening on channel 5 of “Million Calorie Diet” aka “Crazy Legs : Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”. I received a preposterous number of slightly suggestive emails at crazylegs@crazylegsconti.com from English Groupies. You birds keep 'em coming; My libido is as large as my stomach. In Hong Kong, Kobeyashi spent back to back days consuming vegetable dumplings and meat buns in such quantities that his chopsticks spontaneously combusted. In India, rumor has it that Dale “The Mouth from the South” has caused a dent in the country's curry market. I don’t know if he has been eating it or sitting in it, but fortunately for the weak-stomached no photos exist . He is allegedly marketing his own clothing line called, “Boonewear” featuring protective rain jackets for unlucky fans seated in the front row of Dale’s next stateside contest. Each article of clothing comes with a clip-on raccoon tail. ‘Here come’s the Boonewear" they must be chanting in India. And back here in the birthplace of competitive eating, we were thrilled by the rollercoaster of emotion, the joys of digestive victory and the agony of defeat in multi-city circuits. TheGoldenPalace.com grilled cheese championship has yet to be decided, but already the battle between Joey “Jaws” Chesnut and Tim “Eater X” Janus for grilled cheese is heating up. The Krystal Burger Championship showed that eaters like Humble Bob Shoudt, through training and hard work, can improve vastly. He discounts his capacity and speed as not good enough yet, while the rest of us stand around slackjawed at his fifty burgers in eight minutes. He will never be Hubris Bob that is for sure. The Verizon Voice Wing Battle was not without it’s share of controversy, perhaps pointing to the notion that debris food is an unwieldy foe. Sonya 'The Black Widow" Thomas, despite being challenged and occasionally losing (gasp!) to American eaters, continued to rack up a more world championships and lapped me in several contest. Nothing like trying to explain to your beer-guzzling frat brothers how a 100 pound woman ate twice what you did. This year I blamed it on Harry Potter. Some of the fondest and most pungent memories linger from the Alka -Seltzer US OPEN in Vegas. For the first time in competitive eating history the top 34 eaters in the world gathered to compete in a multi-food, multi-day gorgefest . In addition to an amazing competition, George Shea's dream of a mass of eaters descending upon an unsuspecting buffet came to fruition, as we demolished an All-you-can-eat buffet and sent the head chef crying back to the kitchen. The memories, like the some of the food, are so rich that they can only be remembered in bites. I could go on and on about 2005, but it is now time to look ahead; to clear the stomach for 2006. What will competitive eating hold in the new year? I say it is up to the eaters. Find what you love be it rap (like Badlands Booker's new album), writing (like Ryan Nerz's new book), website gossip (like beautifulbrian.com), or simply becoming the best eater you can (Just like Stu Birdy). For me, I have to find a balance between the tangential benefits of pro eating and the discipline of the eating itself. A balance of say, FHM photo shoots with beautiful porn stars (and Buffo the World's Strongest Clown), and a balance of victories at the table. The distractions are plenty, but the food is plentiful. So instead of ringing in the new year with a crazed pack of groupies, I have opted for a more important scenario. I am off to Japan to train with Kobeyashi. What do I hope to glean from this upcoming spiritual and stomach-expanding journey? What we all hope for in 2006...To eat all we can. I'll see you at the table, when I return

	On the Plate Fantober As the season turns to autumn, I’m turning the October On The Plate over to the fans. This month features a special back-to-school edition. David Horton of Auburn University and Reza Ekbatani of Langley High School are clearly on their way to the head of the competitive eating class. I’m always for higher and more satiated education… My name is David Horton and I'm a freshman at Auburn University. As a part of an English assignment, I was instructed to find an activity or person that particularly interested me, and I naturally thought of competitive eating. Ever since I watched the "Gutbusters" documentary a few years ago, I've done my best to keep up with the major events (Especially the Nathan's 4th of July) and eaters. I even tried my hand at the 12 minutes, managing a whopping 6 hot dogs and buns. Oh well, I'll leave it up to y'all. Anyways, I think my paper would be enhanced by some commentary from one of the top eaters, and if you don't mind, I have just a few brief questions for you: No problem, David. My Q and A's have a solid 3.3 grade point average and I always bring the teacher a bushel of apples. Here you go... How long does it typically take you to recover physically from one of your larger events? It is all about equilibrium. I might eat 38 doughnuts in eight minutes, but that is all I'll eat in a 36 hour period. Think an anaconda or a hibernating bear. I assume by, "larger events" you meant eating contests and not the time we let 420 Eric "Badlands" Booker ride my unicycle at Coleman's Bar and Grill. He took out five people, a ukulele, and a section of sofa. The sofa and ukulele never recovered. Do you have any unique strategies that separate you from the average competitive eater? There are no average competitive eaters except for hobbyists, casual diners, and picnickers. Even a mid-ranked guy like Beautiful Brian Seiken is capable of Donnie Darko-like eating prowess. I once saw a bowl of pickles at Ben's Deli in NYC spontaneously explode when BB strutted into the room. Is competitive eating a sport of strength, endurance, or willpower? Or is it something else, or a combination of these? Badlands Booker was the first to rap about the amalgam of characteristics a Pro Eater needs (check out www.badlandsbooker.com for his hip hop food pop album, "Hungry and Focused"). Badlands feels one needs jaw strength, capacity, and hungry mind. However, Mike "The Scholar" Devito would point out that a Pro Eater only needs rudimentary math skills. The Scholar discovered that if one eats a hot dog and bun every thirty seconds, in twelve minutes...that's 24 hot dogs and buns. Granted that is half of what Kobeyashi eats, but still better than my personal best. I would add that there is an abstract ethereal quality a person must possess to make it on the competitive eating circuit. It is hard to define, but best captured by Lloyd Dobler's attempt to woo Diane Court by holding a boom box over his head in the rain. What beverage do you use when competing in the Nathan's Hot Dog competition? This year Tim "Eater X" Janus revolutionized the sport with his combination of dunking in lemonade and drinking ice tea. Not since Kobeyashi invented "Solomoning" - separating the dog and bun, has the sports world seen such invention. Janus discovered it is all about the PH balance. You may have noticed at the Alka Seltzer US OPEN this year a few eaters dropping litmus paper into their cups before consuming. Hollow Hal "The Scientist" Schimmel discovered that urine has the highest PH balance to break down the food, but you don't see him much on the circuit. Do you know any other competitive eaters on a personal level? There is a camaraderie that exists among all competitive eaters, a brotherhood and sisterhood of peristalsis, mastication, and manual-to-oral dexterity. All except say, Dale "The Mouth from the South" Boone, who suffered a reversal of fortune at the Jambalaya World Championships and sprayed my tux shirt. All that jambalaya shrapnel and he didn't even offer to pay my dry cleaning. Where did the nickname 'Crazy Legs' come from? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that last question, you will have to type softer. And, just for my sake, where can I find out more about your movie, and is it available for sale on DVD? For your sake and everyone else’s keep checking www.crazylegsconti.comfor info about the home video, DVD, and beta release of the film. There is a rare showing in NYC to benefit New Orleans oyster shuckers. After all, I ate 459 Louisiana Oyster on the Dave Letterman show, Letterman only ate three. I owe the shuckers big time. Thanks for any help you have, and I'd really love to hear back from you. Good luck with any competitions you have coming up, and I'll keep an eye out for the results. Thanks. You can note that I am currently on the GoldenPalace.com grilled cheese circuit and have consumed a personal best of 17.5 sandwiches in ten minutes. Tell the cafeteria at Auburn to be afraid, to be very afraid. Hi my name is Reza, and am currently vice president of Langley high school in Virginia right. I got your email address from Landon, who happens to Be my SAT tutor. any who onto buissness, at my school We suffer from really horrible pep rallies, and since im vice presdient this year i run all events. Anywho we were thinking of having an eatign contest between two football players and two faculty memebers, as i ws teling this to Landen he told me about you and how you got 6th place in the Nathan's annual hot dog eating contest. So I was wondering if you would liek to stop by our school October 14 for our schools pep rally. I understand you live in New York but i figured it was worth a shot to ask you to come. If you were to come though tehre would be other benefits besides free meal. For one you would get 2,000 instant fans from langley which equals free publicity. Also if you were to come we woudl get donaters to give .25 cents for every hot dog you eat. Thank you for taking your time to read this message please get back to me if you can Sincerly Reza Ekbatani Reza, Thank you for your kind note. It certainly seems that your role as the vice president is an essential one, yet a difficult one. I imagine the few disaffected youth can really put a damper on the hundreds of spirited Langleians who want to enjoy the pep rally in its full glory. All hail Langley, pride of the Virginias! As a professional eater, I have to caution any amateurs from holding eating contest. Each cotest I am in is sanctioned by the IFOCE (www.ifoce.com)and has an EMT standing by. Safety is paramount for this great sport. I would recommedn a pie in the face throwing contest instead. Get the baseball players versus the Math teachers...everybody loves a good pie in the face contest. Good luck with the SATs; they are a necessary evil, but with preparation one can do well and never ever take them again, ever. My best to Ladon, Max Fisher, and the rest of the gang. Please send regards to the gym coach. Eat All You Can (safely), Crazy Legs Conti thanks for gettingback to me crazy legs conti. Im guessing your not coming then to Virginia huh? its alrigth no biggie. But Thank you for taking teh time out though to look at this email. Good luck in the future with all your other competitions, and if you ever happen to come down to virginia and woudl be willing to participate in a high school event please let me kno. thanks Reza Ekbatani

	On the Plate September: September is Grilled Cheese month here at Zen headquarters. .www.slashfood.com recently devoted an entire day to the magestic sandwich. I wrote a short column which appears as this month's On the Plate. This article was originally posted at www.slashfood.com/2005/08/29/crazy-legs-conti-eats-grilled-cheese/ Viscous golden cheese oozing out of its toasty brown bookends...you look at a grilled cheese sandwich and think, “That looks good, I’ll have one.” I look at a grilled cheese sandwich and think, “That looks good, I’ll have twenty”. My name is Crazy Legs Conti and I am a professional competitive eater. At this moment I am staring at forty open faced cheese up/bread down pieces on a flattop at Coleman’s Bar and Grill. To my right, beyond my spatula, is a plate of twenty formed sandwiches. That plate is guarded by Tim “Eater X” Janus. Over my shoulder, and filling the kitchen, is Eric “Badlands” Booker. The 420 pound Booker looks to my left, at towering plate of thirty three grilled cheese sandwiches and sheepishly asks, “Is that all I get?” You’ve heard of competitive eating. Perhaps you went to Coney Island for the annual Nathan’s fourth of July Hot Dog Championship and watched 140 pound Takeru Kobeyashi eat 53 ½ hot dogs and buns in twelve minutes. You might have tuned into Espn to see the Alka Seltzer US Open as Eater X, in a stunning come-from-behind victory bested Rich “The Locust” Lafevre in the dense salad round. Perhaps, you’ve enjoyed the documentary, “Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”; my journey from slack jawed fan to gustatory gladiator. To celebrate the film I ate my way out of an 8-foot box of popcorn, earning me the moniker, “The Houdini of Cusini”. But what you may not know about competitive eating, is that the pro circuit has become the NASCAR of the esophagus, the Masters of the stomach, the Tour de Gorge. All because of the IFOCE. The International Federation of Competitive Eating presides over all stomach-centric sports. With over $200,000 in prize money in 2005, the IFOCE pro circuit has become a fierce battleground of eating assassins and glory seeking gurgitators. The Grilled Cheese circuit alone has over $40,000 in prize money. That kind of bread brings out the big eaters; not in size, but in appetite. Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas is the number two ranked eater in the world. She has scarfed down 65 hard boiled eggs in seven minutes, 48 soft tacos in eleven minutes, 10 pounds of cheesecake in nine minutes…and she weighs 100 pounds. Badlands Booker is four times her size, yet she routinely eats twice as much as him in competition. You would assume she would lap him in a 400 meter race, but in hard boiled egg eating? On Badlands’ debut album, “Hungry and Focused” he raps, “An overnight sensation like the Black Window, she starts at the far end of the table, and eats her way to the middle.” No wonder Badlands wants a few extra practice sandwiches. A year ago in the hot sun of Venice Beach, California, George Shea, founder of the IFOCE, was MCing as The Black Widow ate 25 grilled cheese sandwiches in ten minutes. George’s preacher-like voice, his microphone turned up to eleven, rang out naming Sonya, “The World Grilled Cheese Eating Champion…of the world.” Rich Shea, president of the IFOCE, had shrewdly marketed the event to the masses. After GoldenPalace.com had purchased a grilled cheese sandwich with the likeness of the Virgin Mary, the IFOCE organized the eating contest. Like an ecumenical field trip, Pro eaters traveled across the country to pay homage, not the Virgin Mary, but to the grilled cheese. The Virgin Mary grilled cheese sandwich survived the contest; no occurrence of immaculate ingestion, and grew from one gorgefest into this years circuit. Eaters, fans, and groupies (As pro athletes often do, we deal with groupies. In fact I keep telling the ladies to stop sending naked photos to www.crazylegsconti.com, but they keep sending naked photos to www.crazylegsconti.com) will travel to eleven cities across the land, seeking the holy grain and heavenly cheese. I may travel from NYC to Utah, Minneapolis, or South Dakota seeking victory at a regional contest (and $1750 in prize money) to earn a spot at the Finals (and $20,000 in prize money). That brings us to Coleman’s Bar and Grill, three pro eaters, a ‘focus group” fans, and seventy five practice sandwiches. In contest and practice each eater has a large cup of the liquid of their choice. Liquid lubrication is needed to aid in swallowing the dense cheese brick sandwiches. Over the next few hours we will discuss dunking technique, chewing strategy, swallowing capacity. Eater X will opt for three sandwich sprints, working on his manual to oral dexterity; interval training between mandible and mastication. Badlands will be marathoning for ten minutes; pushing himself past the six minute mark, “The Wall”, into the last four minutes when dreams are made, and realities broken. I will be using the Zen method of eating, mind over stomach matter. I will study the grilled cheese sandwich as if it was the Rosetta Stone; learning its language of congealed cheese and cardboard bread. Each eater is poised over their plate. The grease stained stopwatch is ready. Our stomachs are empty, but our minds are filled with the lofty goal of defeating The Black Widow. However, beyond the competition, the prize money, the trophies, the travel, and the groupies, the Grilled Cheese circuit offers something more, something ethereal and abstract. Of course, if the sandwiches are more concrete, then perhaps double dunking is the answer.

	SUMMER SUSTENANCE Dear Eating Fans, It has been a satiating summer thus far. The IFOCE circuit is so plentiful, that there are now multiple contests each week-end. The calendar is a cornucopia of engorging events. As I prepared for the World Lobster Eating Championship in the great state of Maine, Ray Routhier sent me a short Q and A. Call it an \"On the Plate\" exclusive from one of Maine\'s finest writers: Name: Crazy Legs Conti Age: 34 Where you live: Coleman’s Bar and Grill, East Village NYC Day job: Day Manager of the Penthouse Executive Club (Swanky strip club in Hell’s Kitchen) I also wash windows on week-ends. I no longer pose nude for studio art classes, nor donate sperm Years as a pro eater: 4th year on the circuit. Pounds of lobster you ate last year: I ate twenty lobsters, perfectly cleaned. It came to 7.65 lbs. I finished second to Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas. Current titles: Lumberjack Breakfast (3 ¾ pounds of sourdough pancake, ½ pound of bacon), French Cut String Beans (2.71 pounds in six minutes), Beef Brisket Buffet (5 ½ pounds of beef, cole slaw, potato salad, baked beans in ten minutes), World Twinkie Eating Champion (25 in five minutes) Height and Weight: 6’3’’ but I slouch Q Since you didn\'t win last year, what changes will you make this year to grab the title? A: This year, I’m getting even more Zen with the lobster. I’m becoming one with the lobster. I am also dying my goatee blue to fool the lobster into thinking it is the womb of the ocean. My stomach is like a light house beacon, calling all lobster home. Q Have you been practicing for this? A I go to bed dreaming about the separation of claw and knuckle. I wake up visualizing tomalley and roe kick starting peristalsis. John Hawthaway of the Kennebunkport Lobster Company had a dream for a World Lobster Eating Champion. I intend to make his dream my reality. I also do a lot of wrist exercises. Q Do you like lobster or is it just your competitive nature that brings you to Maine this year? A I spent my summers from Naples to West Baldwin, enjoying everything Maine has to offer, but from age seven I traded in my teddy bear for a lobster shell. I’ve been hugging it ever since. I named my lobster bear, Winslow. I will be eating thirty lobsters in ten minutes on Saturday in his honor. Q What is the biggest challenge to eating a lot of lobster fast? A Lobster is a debris food, meaning one must strategize how best to utilize manual to oral dexterity. Each eater is allowed a shucker, so I’ve teamed myself with a the most beautiful lobsterman’s daughter in Maine. As if the lobster wasn’t going to be difficult enough for the other eaters, her low cut corset will also prove to be an obstacle of distraction. Q How did you get started in competitive eating? A I was always a fan of the International Federation of Competitive Eating. Some misguided kids grow up dreaming of the NBA, the NFL, or Major League Baseball. I knew from my first bowl of oatmeal, what sports organization I was going to strive for. Everyone is eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they are just not eating it on the professional level. Q How\'s your health? Do you eat pretty moderately and exercise the rest of the time? A I am the new breed of eater, I jog, I go to the gym. I plan on running the New York Marathon this year dressed as the statue of liberty; one has to be pretty svelte to fit into that green dress. I hope to sneak into the Boston Marathon, perhaps I’ll run in a lobster suit? I’m a slow jogger, so I don’t think the mandibles will hurt my time. Q How much money would you say you\'ve won over the years? A All thought the IFOCE prize money has grown to over $100,000 this year, I’ve never been in it for the money. I think the documentary, “Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating” showed where my heart and stomach is. I’m in it for the physical poetry of the sport, the camaraderie of the eaters, the groupies, and of course, the free food. I keep telling the groupies to stop sending naked photos to www.crazylegsconti.com , but they keep sending naked photos to www.crazylegsconti.com Q Do you have a favorite eating contest? Hot dogs? Ice cream? A I turned pro on Acme Louisiana Oysters (20 dozen in ten minutes) and earned the moniker, “The Mollusk King”. I’ve done well in Alaskan Spot Shrimp (5 lbs in ten minutes). I am training for Delaware Crab Cakes, so seafood is my specialty. My father weaned me on seafood, calling it, “low tide food – nothing that grows above the ankle”. Favorite Eating Contest? Lobster, Lobstah, and Ayuh, Lobsta. Q Have you ever, ah, returned some of the food you were eating for a contest? A On the pro eating circuit we call it, “Urges contrary to swallowing” or, “a reversal of fortune”. I have great mind over stomach matter control, so I have not had a Roman Incident, however, I’ve been caught in the shrapnel spray of Dale “The Mouth from the South” Boone’s Exorcist imitation. He still hasn’t paid my dry cleaning bill. Q If you had to bet money on somebody to win Saturday, who would you bet on? A Like Babe Ruth in the 1932 World Series, I’m calling my shot. I’m not pointing to center field, I’m pointing to the ocean. Sonya “The Black Widow” is nearly unstoppable, Rich “The Locust” Lefevre is gastronomically stellar, Tim “Eater X” Janus is a gustatory gladiator, “Humble” Bob Shout is both voluminous and humble, but there can be only one World Lobster Champion. As the crowd of thousands follows my outstretched point to the Ocean, they will believe in me, they will chant, “Crazy Legs” and I will be crowned, “King of the Crustacean”

	On the plate June 2005 (finally) If I have fallen behind with my On The Plate duties, it can only be because Competitive Eating has inched it’s way past golf and tennis on the exciting sports to watch list. Because of this surge of popularity, a week doesn’t go by without a magazine, show, or newspaper capitalizing on the pro eating fervor that has swept the nation. To give you an example of one typical week in the life of a three-year pro circuit veteran take a look at this line-up: Monday: The brain trust at FHM has decided to put together a group of FHM legends for a monopoly game. The Beauty: Anna Benson, the hottest wife in baseball The Brawn: Buffo the Worlds Strongest Clown The Stomach: Crazy Legs Conti The Brains: Mikey. I think it’s Mikey from Life Cereal (“Give it to Mikey, he’ll eat anything. Mikey likes it!”) As it turns out it is Mikey the trained Monkey (as The Beast, I guess; but after he explained photosynthesis to me, I’d still consider him The Brains). Mikey goes apesh…Mikey loses it after I put run-down hotels on Baltic and Mediterranean. Anna certainly has her talents, but it was Buffo who I would pick first, in the event of a bar fight or a bar mitzvah. I asked Buffo to help me learn to ride a unicycle, he said he would promise not to break my neck. I wasn’t sure if that was before or after the unicycle lesson. The man is strong and has a strong sense of humor. For photos of the whole gang, check out the FHM on newsstands now (it has Pam Anderson and her personal flotation devices on the cover) Tuesday: I’m off to the Nathan’s in Hell’s Kitchen to advise the top ranked up-and-coming eater, Tim “Eater X” “Warpaint” “Reptar” Janus. Tim (as he is known to those who can’t figure out what his nickname is) is on his way to Rookie of Year, yet he is still polite enough to ask a veteran like me to aid in his training for the Nathan’s French Fry Championship. MTV’s True Life Series is following Tim everywhere he eats, works, parties and eats again. The series (MTV True Life: I am a Competitive Eater) will air in the fall. Somehow they will cull hundreds of hours of footage and over ten contests into a one-hour documentary about Tim Janus. I did my part, I wore my Colonial clip on tie figuring that next year all the MTV kids will be wearing Colonial clip on ties. I also discussed fry eating strategy with Tim, ph balance of dipping liquids, lip balm preference, and how to avoid getting the salt shakes. You’ll have to tune in this fall to see how Tim fares against my old nemesis, Ed “Cookie” Jarvis in the French Fry Eating Championships. Wednesday: I phone in an interview with Jonathan Davis of Penthouse Magazine. Jonathan who writes the Sporting America Section, hopes that people really do read the articles ( I do, after I’ve committed all the pictures to memory). Past interviews included Chris Webber and Evander Holyfield. I figure I’m going to be asked a lot of dirty questions (groupies, how much Viagra can I eat, etc.), but the questions turn out to be straight forward sports journalism. I believe the interview will run in the August Penthouse Issue (no idea who will be on the cover, but I’ll bet she will be naked and hot and look nothing like Cookie Jarvis – a Playboy regular) Thursday: I’m off to Oceanside, Long Island for the Nathan’s World French Fry Championship. The ocean breeze wafts over the salty fries to create an aromatic medley that whets my appetite. Badlands Booker whets my pants by spilling soda on my shorts. He immediately apologizes by giving me a copy of his hip-hop-pop-rock album “Hungry and Focused” (available at www.ifoce.com) Apology accepted. I had trained for fries with an intellectual bent. I read Hemmingway’s “Movable Feast”. It is set in France, but I found no mention of Fries. Thus I was eliminated after the first round. I consoled myself later in the evening at an adult establishment in Commack, Long Island, by having Janine Lindemuller autograph my VHS copy of the 1990 film “Lauderdale”. Janine turns out to be a fan of competitive eating and I’ve got a Polaroid to prove it (sorry, the Polaroid is her holding the Zen movie postcard, I didn’t mean to imply anything too tawdry). Instead of crying in my fries, I picked myself up and pretended like I was in a spring break film. That’s the spirit. I’m still smiling now. Friday: Myself and the filmmakers record a radio interview on an NPR-like show out of California. I can’t remember the name of the show or when it aired. I do remember that they cut the filmmakers out of the interview because they felt too many voices would be confusing to the listeners. It was a true shame, because I can always tell the difference in Danielle Franco and Chris Kenneally’s voices. Perhaps this is due to gender or perhaps due to the fact that Kenneally is usually making fun of inept radio people and Dani is laughing. As you can imagine, this was quite a full week of stomach-centric activities. Pro eating has come a long way since I opened for Mudvayne by eating 150 Hooters oysters in three minutes. Please check out the home page for my upcoming writing, eating, and drinking appearances.

	NEW ORLEANS OYSTERS Greetings eating fans, March was quite a month for Competitive Eating. The Documentary finished its run at the prestigious Pioneer Two Boots Theater in NYC. Thanks to Ray Privet’s scheduling, each screening had something special. The opening night featured a two-slice pizza contest. I went on to eat the rest of the excellent Two Boots pie. The closing night featured a special musical performance by Dinshaw. Each night had Q and A and an after-party at one of our favorite New York bars. Whichever fan left her neon orange dress at Coleman’s Bar and Grill, it is available for pick-up any night this week. I want to thank all who came out to see, “Zen and the Art” on the big screen - there is nothing like seeing oyster shrapnel projected to the size of a basketball. Speaking of oysters, I returned to hallowed ACME oyster house around in New Orleans. ACME is expanding like Kobayashi’s belly, and opened their largest restaurant yet in Meterie, Louisiana. To celebrate a few top eaters flew down to down some mollusk. I put in a quick training run of 15 dozen in 6 minutes and 23 seconds. Badlands Booker sat for two hours and ate 41 1/2 dozen to stretch his stomach out. But it was Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas who shocked the eating community and flabbergasted the world when she downed 46 dozen, that’s right 46 dozen oysters in...ready for this...ten minutes. By the way Sonya weighs 100 pounds. A record of this proportion could be considered side by side to Kobayashi’s 50 Hot Dogs and Buns in 2000, however, Sonya has been astounding all professional and casual diners. She holds 22 world titles in 22 different foods (talk about a cross disciplined athlete). She ranks oysters as her favorite record, and I know why. It is as if all the good (and often drunk) people of N’Awlins have placed their wonderful karma into each oyster shell. Sonya mearly sucked up all the great music, food, and passion that the city has to offer. I felt the same way. I managed a personal best of twenty dozen in ten minutes (yes, Sonya lapped me at the nine minute mark) and felt good about it. Sal of P & J (the oldest family run oyster supplier in the world) was next to me on stage, as was the nicest man in competitive eating Badlands Booker. Badlands upped his personal best and devoured 28 dozen. Badlands ate about 80 dozen oysters in two days, much to Sal’s pleasure and because of the inherent aphrodisiac powers of the mollusk, I’m sure his wife was pleased too. Ewell of the Louisiana Seafood Board was on hand as well. He shared an interesting Anecdote. My appearance on David Letterman caused an unexpected spike in oyster sales. I can only hope that this will cause a ripple effect with the sales of my signature line of oyster spork. Each custom made spork is emblazed with the mantra "Eat all You Can” and my engraved signature. These oyster sporks will soon be available in plastic, wood, and pewter wherever sporks are sold. N’Awlins feels like my second home thanks to Mike, Laurie, Stacy, Glenn, Ben, and the all the shuckers and staff at the ACME oyster empire. They have taken seafood to new heights by char-grilling oysters, frying oysters, and of course flipping oysters. As I sat at the beautiful Homedale Inn, listening to the number two band in America...The Knobs - I was satiated; digesting my twenty dozen oysters, and I thought, “This experience is heaven on a half shell”. See you soon at the table. Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti

	TWO BOOTS PIONEER, AUSTIN & LETTERMAN Greetings All, Chris Kenneally, Danielle Franco, and I are pleased to announce that “Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating” will play The Pioneer Theater in New York City from March 2nd to March 8th. The Pioneer Theater is located at 3rd St and Ave A (212.591.0434) and each night’s screening is at 9 pm. To celebrate this great theatrical opportunity, I will appear on The Late Show with David Letterman on Monday, February 21st. I will attempt to break the Acme Oyster House world record by consuming 44 dozen oysters in the course of the show. The 528 oysters will be lined up from the lobby, through the audience, and lead up to the stage. I will have only the duration of the forty minute show to devour all the mollusks and shake hands with Dave Letterman. Not since Evil Knievel bid to jump Snake River canyon has such a dangerous feat been attempted. However, I am known as, “The Houdini of Cuisini” and I predict success. I will be eating the oysters with my signature line of oyster spork (soon available for sale in plastic, wood, and pewter). All though I have appeared on many TV shows in the last few years, I consider the Late Show the pinnacle of network TV. It is an incredible honor to be invited onto the show and I look forward to offering Dave a few oysters or my signature stainless steel autographed spork (soon available for sale wherever sporks are sold). The show will be sanctioned by Rich Shea of the IFOCE and I will have the support of two large gentleman in the audience, Eric “Badlands” Booker and “Hungry” Charles Hardy. Please tune in Monday, February 21st. If you are in New York City, please come to one of the screenings at Two Boots - Pioneer Theater (Weds, March 2nd – Tuesday, March 8th). I live a block from the theater so it is likely that I will pop in for a Q & A after each showing. Post screening parties are scheduled after most of the screenings. The theater is run by the owners of Two Boots Pizza, so it is likely that my mouth will be full of pizza when I see you. If you know people who have not seen the film, please encourage them to see the film on the big screen. The movie has played independent theaters from Washington State to Austin, Texas; however, if the New York run is successful we hope to show the film in other cities (New Orleans, Boston, and Delaware and maybe your hometown). Last month the film played the Alamo Drafthouse (www.originalalamo.com) in Austin, Texas. I would like to send a special thank you to Tim, Karrie, Lars, and the staff of Alamo. I have loved movies all my life and been to some of the finest theaters in the land, but I can’t think of a better place to watch movies than the Alamo. One can sit on couches or plush seats and have copious amounts of booze and giant portions of food delivered to their seat. The Alamo shows the best eclectic films and you get to guzzle Shinerbock beer and eat beef brisket instead of popcorn. I was so honored to be invited. Luminary guests recently have included “Pedro” from Napoleon Dynamite, “Kumar” from the Wes Anderson films, and Ilan Mitchell-Smith (best known from, “Weird Science”). To be asked into that Alamo inner circle was a dream come true. Austin is hip town, but the Alamo outshines all other activities. I knew as soon as I saw Tim and Karrie’s autographed “Goonies” poster (Corey Feldman and Josh Brolin) that I was in the right place. They also have a mobile projection unit and a forty-foot blow up screen enabling them to show, “The Goonies” in a cave. I can’t wait to get back to Austin. In the meantime, the film will be rebroadcast on A & E in June of 2005 and will soon be available on DVD/VHS/ and Beta. Keep visiting www.crazylegsconti.com for updates about the film and my stomach. Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti

	TOPIC Magazine Article STUFF YOUR FACE by Crazy Legs Conti

	ON THE PLATE January 2005 The Holidays and end of the year brought many competitive eating gifts. And the new year has some large meals and great events on the plate... I appeared on The View along side the married and talented Rich and Carlene LeFevre. Our mass consumption of fruitcake, hot dogs, and oysters sent Star Jones and John Travolta scrambling to the green room for leftover danish. Rich not only ate hot dogs at world record pace, but had some valuable vocal advice for Kelly Clarkson. I was featured in January's issue of FHM magazine. I know of no other magazine that is as informed about today's issues. I subscribe to the New Yorker, but I read FHM. In an extravagant four page layout I was shown playing poker with 2004 luminaries, Gregg Valentino (largest biceps in the world), Vida Guerra (nicest chest biceps in the world), and Ted Lange(largest Love Boat residuals in the world). It was a spirited poker game, well captured by Ian Knowles, Adam Winer, and the FHM staff. I have recently sent a form letter off to nominate this piece for a Pulitzer Prize, I am hoping to hear back any day now. As a show of my love for FHM, I have stopped stealing it from newsstands and am willing to pay twice face value in the new year. I also garnered a mention on Page Six of the New York Post. I start every day with two large breakfasts and one New York Post. Gersh Kuntzman, America's hardest working journalist, has mentioned me before, but a nod on page six puts me in the company of Paris Hilton and Britney Spears. I have no video proof of being in their company, but not for lack of trying. Mid january will find me in Austin, Texas where we are honored to have the movie play the Alamo Drafthouse www.originalalamo.com In Austin, they eat beef brisket instead of popcorn at the movies so I can't wait. From what I hear Austin is a hip hip town for film, music, food, and drink. I am going to consume all I can in my days and nights while visiting. Speaking of consuming...I recently ate twenty five twinkies in five minutes. This stunt earned me a spot at Wing Bowl 13 in Philadelphia on February 4th. This event is sponsored by the guys at 610 WIP in the city of brotherly cheesesteak love. As a fan, I tried to attend Wingbowl because it is a sporting event unparalleled in the modern athletics. The Wachovia Center becomes the Roman Coliseum for a day as twenty five eaters are thrown to the wings. Twenty three thousand fans have tailgate from 2 am (when the bars close) until 6 am (when the gates open) and pack the stadium to see the eaters like El Wingador, four time Wing King, do battle. Seventy five lovely Wingettes are on hand for those who prefer breasts overs wings. I am honored to have qualified and been invited to Wing Bowl. You can check out my twinkie stunt at www.610wip.com , compliments of www.philly.com. Wingette try-outs can also be viewed. With a new year, comes new goals, new dreams and perhaps a new spatula (the grilled cheese massacre of '04 did in the last one). I am looking forward to 2005 with a great hunger. Whether your goal is eating a nine pound burger in Las Vegas, selling your first screenplay to Hollywood, or simply spending time in Cookie Jarvis's hot tub, let's make it happen in 2005. Eat All You Can, Crazy Legs Conti

	On the Plate November Posole to you... Well pro eating fans, it is November, a beloved month for all those casual eaters who enjoy the stomach stretching marathon that is Thanksgiving. Before I get my turkey and pumpkin pie (I usually order the special from The Odessa Diner and have it delivered to the Coyote Ugly dive bar on 9th street and 1st Ave, NYC…feel free to join me) I plan on stretching my stomach on some toasted ravioli in St. Louis on Saturday, November 20th (Harrah’s Casino) and then further popping the esophagus by consuming posole in Acoma, New Mexico on the 21st (Big Sky Casino). Posole is a soaked corn kernel stew served in beautiful Acoma pottery. It sounds spicy; I may need a porcelain bowl after the ceramic bowl. Now that the toilet humor is out of the way, I have a lot to be thankful for this November. So this On the Plate is dedicated to giving thanks to some of the unsung heroes of Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating: I am thankful for Chris Kenneally and Danielle Franco, the filmmakers. As Danielle or Chris would delicately wipe oyster shrapnel or pelmeni juice off the camera’s lens they would have a hard look in their eyes (not unlike the expression of a combat photographer). Their expressions seemed to say, I went to college, I studied hard…how did I end up filming a 300 pound Dale “The Mouth from the South” stuffing Russian dumplings into his maw like a sausage casing extruder in reverse? Perhaps I could have studied harder. Chris and Danielle have mastered the Zen of filmmaking; I thank them for everything(except the naked shots they leaked to the internet) I am thankful for David “Moe Ribs” Molesky. His bizarre sense of humor is only matched by his bizarre destruction of debris food. He is the eight time charity rib eating champion. Moe has recently been battling some career ending injuries. While his stomach is fine, his leg has been impeding his return to the buffet of competitive eating. All of us here at Zen wish Moe the best in his recovery…it is like they sing in the song,” take a load off Moe ribs, take a load for free.” Of ribs that is. I am thankful for Ray “The Bison” Meduna. I battled Ray in the Seattle hot dog contest, we were never adversaries, but kindred spirits. We have shared more than just the table from New York to St. Louis. Ray is a gentle giant, a furious competitor who truly cares for his fellow man and woman. He raised thousands of dollars for a coworker who was diagnosed with brain cancer by accepting pledges on the amount of doughnuts he could consume in 99 seconds. How about 22 and still room for dessert. Ray recently announced his retirement from Pro eating, but I think the Bison will roam again. I am thankful for David “Coondog” O’Karma. Many of you were disappointed with the outcome of recent presidential election, but how many of you knew that the solution was out there. Coondog was running for president under the Absurdist Party. He named me, his choice for vice president. Of course, I accepted. Granted we did not make the ballot and unfortunately many of the write in votes we received were ruled ineligible (I don’t see why writing in crayon would make a difference). Coondog is not only a talented eater, but a master chef with his own line of wing sauce (proceeds benefit a young girl in Buffalo’s battle with a rare skin disease). Coondog is also a talented writer. Check out this touching article about his first visit to New York City and the World Hot Dog Championship. Coondog Article Lastly I am thankful for the plentiful food that will be served this November. I love food in giant quantities, but I also love there to be enough for everyone. So if you can, share or volunteer your time at soup kitchens or missions. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and let’s let everyone eat all they can. Crazy Legs Conti

	Crazy Legs Conti writes: When asked, “What food would a professional eater dream of eating competitively?” The response is always, “Lobster.” Of course in Boston they say, “Lobstah” and in Maine they say, “Ayuh, Lobsta”. John Hathaway of the Kennebunkport Lobster Company made every eater’s dream a reality when he hosted the World Lobster Eating Contest in Kennebunkport, Maine. Lobster…the filet mignon of the sea…who could imagine eating all the lobster one could eat? Well, I could. The contest rules allowed teams of two, one eater, one shucker (In Maine they say, “Ayuh, a picker”). Both could shuck the lobsters (no utensils allowed) but only one could eat. In New York I trained with Erica Rahn, a lobsterman’s daughter from New Hampshire. She showed the basic ways to get the meat out, but pointed out that the heaviest parts of the lobster can be the roe (known to non-seafood eaters as, “the scary red stuff”, the tomalley (casually known as the guacamole or to non-seafood eaters, “the gross green stuff”) and the brine (the sea water mixed with the cooking water) . Because the World Lobster Eating Contest would be determined by weight, not number eaten, I was determined to finish all of the lobster…roe, tomalley, and brine. I used to spend my summers in Naples, Maine as a camp counselor and I ate lobster every chance I got…all the lobster. I happen to like the tomalley the best. I knew I had an advantage over the other eaters who had been weaned on fake crab meat. After a training run at Coleman’s Bar and Grill, I knew I was ready, but I still had to find a shucker in Maine. I was hoping to find a hot lobsterman’s daughter capable of expert picking and able to distract the likes of Cookie Jarvis. It would take a rare combination of seafood knowledge and a low cut blouse to throw the focus off of the voluminous Cookie. I arrived in Maine in style. Like clowns out of a circus car, my traveling companions popped out of our Furthur-like fifteen passenger van. The talented Uncle Din (perhaps you remember him from the movie) had entertained us on the nine hour trip with his guitar and singing. Mike Sandwich, an equally talented and hairy musician had composed a ballad dedicated to Molly Ringwald, which became our fight song. Even Ryan Nerz of the IFOCE had hopped a ride. A drizzle had started falling; Cookie was there to greet us claiming his shucker was the local champ. As it turned out Cookie’s shucker was the local drunk. The friendly Ernie was more inclined to shuck rum and cokes than lobster meat. Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas arrived just before the contest. Assembled on Stage were the top American Eaters, Cookie, Sonya, “Hungry” Charles Hardy, Eric “Badlands” Booker, Alan “The Shredder” Goldstein, and last years local champ, Kevin “The Boss” Cross. I was honored to meet “The Boss” because I knew he was also planning on drinking the brine to win (He even brought a straw). Ten lobsters were placed in front every eater. Thunder and lightning snapped, rain stormed down as George Shea, like an evangelical preacher woo the crowd into frenzy. The Maine storm only heightened the event…The countdown began. I heard nothing, not one bit of lightning. Why? I had found the Zen focus I needed to compete on the highest level of sport. My mind became the rainstorm, my stomach the ocean. I literally washed the lobsters back to their homeland; the bottom of the ocean -the murky depths of my aquatic lower intestines became one. My shucker was divine, she looked a lot like the Bun Fairy, and lobster meat pounds of it appeared in my hand. I chewed like a chipmunk on speed…tails, claws, knuckles, tomalley, and roe. I drank four cups of brine and finished at the buzzer with a mighty belch. I had given all I had. Uncle Din and Mike Sandwich charged the stage to attend to the cuts on my shucker’s delicate hands (Odd how much she looked like the Bun Fairy?). The lobster debris was weighed. “Hungry” Charles placed third (7.03 pounds), I came in second (7.65 pounds) and Sonya “The Black Widow” won with an incredible 9.76 pounds. I was flabbergasted at her Kobayashi-like performance. Realize that Sonya Thomas weighs 100 pounds; she had just eaten ten percent of her body weight in lobster meat. Speaking of “The Black Widow” if you would like to know more about her, or competitive eating check out this month’s Topic Magazine. Topic is available at Barnes and Nobles and on new stands. You can also read it online at www.topicmag.com. I was honored to be asked to write about the America’s fastest growing sport for Topic. I was also honored to “perform” at their issue kick-off party. Held during the Republican National Convention in New York City, “Badlands” Booker and I attempted to eat a 100 pound mashed potato sculpture of Dick Cheney. As a writer and a professional eater, Topic Magazine gave me the chance to be published and potato-filled at the same time.

	This Month ON THE PLATECrazy Legs Conti writes: Welcome to the Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating Documentary website. I am told by the Internet Gods that this section is suppose to be a column written by myself, Crazy Legs Conti. I am Crazy Legs Conti, however, I am not the most Internet savvy individual (I usually use a typewriter) so you will have to excuse any Web-related wardrobe malfunctions that occur. Hopefully these infrequent jottings can answer any questions that the documentary did not cover. If you have questions, send them to my typewriter. Meanwhile... Millions of boys and girls wait each year for one special day. It might be Christmas or Easter, but the rest of the year is a countdown until the day arrives. As a professional eater ranked by the International Federation of Competitive Eating (IFOCE), our special day is the Fourth of July. Each gustatory gladiator's stomach rumbles for 364 days as it counts down to the day...The Nathan's World Hot Dog Eating Championship. Held every July 4th since 1916 on Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York, it is every eater's ultimate holiday - every eater's dream - to be up on that stage. It takes a lot to get to the big show: a lot of hot dogs and buns, and most of all, a lot of belief. Belief that one can eat hot dogs and buns for twelve straight minutes and not suffer "an urge contrary to swallowing." Pro eaters are believers. We believe in Santa. Anyone who can eat all those milk and cookies should be ranked by the IFOCE. We believe in the Easter Bunny. What a holiday - eggs and chocolate! Who believes more than Eric "Badlands" Booker - 2 pounds of chocolate bars in 6 minutes or Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas - 65 hard-boiled eggs in 6 minutes 40 seconds? More than Santa, more than the Easter Bunny, pro eaters believe in The Bun Fairy. I believe in The Bun Fairy; she looks out for all deserving gurgitators. With a sprinkle of her fairy dust, she can make the buns and dogs go down easy, like sand in an hour glass, like water through a hose, like Sunday morning. Where did her fairy dust land this year? Who got a glimpse of the elusive Bun Fairy? Me, Crazy Legs Conti: I needed The Bun Fairy more than ever. Last May I blew my back out in a wing-eating contest in Cleveland. I lost by two ounces to Don "Moses" Lerman. He ate 102 wings in 12 minutes in a biblical performance. My patented "meat umbrella" technique got me to 98 wings just before my lumbar support exploded. I had to hold my back with my primary eating hand and could get only two more wings down. After extensive physical therapy, I returned to the circuit. I had no further injuries until last week. During a six-dog sprint, the back went again. The IFOCE medical team advised me against taking the stage on the Fourth. But there was no way I was going on the injured reserve list for the Nathan's World Hot Dog Eating Championship. I was worried the back swelling would put undue pressure on my lower intestines; with no room for my stomach to distend, I could have blown out my esophagus. I relied on The Bun Fairy to get me through alive, and I took it one dog at a time. I ate 16 1/2. Not bad, but not "The Deuce\" (20 hot dogs and buns). Gersh Kuntzman of the New York Post promised to eat his hat if I ate The Deuce. It is still on his head. Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas: The aptly named "Black Widow" routinely devoured twice as much food as her male opponents, many of whom are four times her size. Looking like a beauty pageant contestant and weighing in at a whopping 105 pounds, she broke eating records in all four food groups: 1. Dessert: 10 lbs of cheesecake in 9 minutes 2. Appetizer: 5 1/2 lbs of shrimp in 10 minutes 3. Entree: 9 lbs of jumbalaya in 10 minutes 4. Foods that cause the meat sweats: 7 3/4 lb fully loaded burgers in 10 minutes; 41 chicken soft tacos in 9 minutes; 140 chicken wings in 12 minutes When most eaters get the meat sweats, they perspire. Sonya glows. At the Nathan's Contest she consumed an inhuman 32 hot dogs and buns in 12 minutes, becoming the first female in history to break the thirty-dog barrier (considered the four minute mile of competitive eating) and setting a new overall American record. At an amazing 32 dogs, amazingly she came in third. Noboyuki Shirota: Known as "The Giant" in Japan because at 6'4" he is the first one to know if it is raining. He is a tremendous food warrior and is considered a master of all stomach-centric activities. He is the only competitor to have beaten Kobayshi, which he did three times in a long format contest known as "TV Champion". He ate 31 1/2 dogs and buns at the Nathan's Tokoyo qualifier to make it to the big dance (yes, they have a Nathan's in Japan, and no, hot dog sushi is not on the menu). Shirota's epiglottis muscle danced to the tune of 38 hot dogs and buns at Coney Island. Some eaters stop at the plate, Shirota eats to the table cloth. Takeru "The Tsunami" Kobayashi: What more can be said about a man who is simply the greatest athlete in the history of sport? Doubling the world record in 2000 by eating 50 hot dogs and buns, breaking that record in 2001 with 50 1/2, faltering in 2003 with only 44 1/2, no one knew what to expect this year. It bends the laws of science to think a human could consume more than fifty hot dogs and buns in twelve minutes, yet Kobayashi uses a Zen - like focus to turn his body into a human wood-chipping machine. Perhaps even surprising The Bun Fairy, but certainly shocking the world, "The Tsunami" ate a new world record 53 hot dogs and buns. He held the coveted, bejeweled yellow mustard belt high above his head for the fourth straight year. In Rich Shea's words, "It was poetry in motion." I was honored to be there eating along side the twenty greatest eaters in the world. To my left was "Buffalo" Jim Reeves (who put in a Superman-like effort with 21 hot dogs and buns), and to my right was Dale "The Mouth from the South" Boone (a record four cups of water spilled, two on my shorts). But out in front, beyond the hundreds of TV cameras, beyond the ESPN reporters, beyond the thousands of screaming fans, was The Bun Fairy; with her multicolored wings and glittery magic dust, she waved her star-spangled wiener wand and disappeared like a hot dog on the Fourth of July. Thank you, Bun Fairy.

<div id="emailForm"> <form action="index.php" method="post"> <input type="hidden" name="mode" value="addEmail"> <input type="hidden" name="errorCheck" value="on"> <table> <tr> <td colspan="5" align="center">Join the email list!:</td> </tr> <tr> <td class="lbl">Name:</td> <td class="fld"><input name="name" type="text" value="" id="email"></td> <td class="lbl">Email:</td> <td class="fld"><input name="email" type="text" value="" id="email"></td> <td class="btn"><input name="submit" type="submit" value="Join Now" id="email"></td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="5">This email list will send information about Crazy Legs and his appearances and events. You can <a href="/index.php?mode=email&action=unsubscribe">remove yourself</a> from our list at any time and we will never share or sell your information (<a href="#" onClick="window.open('/index.php?mode=pp','www.crazylegsconti.com Privacy Policy','width=550,height=600,scrollbars=yes,resizable=yes')">read our privacy policy</a>).</td> </tr> </table> </form> </div>
©2004 Oyster Productions. Design and HTML by Leslie Padgett. Development by Fingerfunk Productions. Contact Us.

©2004 Oyster Productions.

Design and HTML by Leslie Padgett. Development by Fingerfunk Productions.

Contact Us.