I have three beautiful sons that are lucky enough to look like their Mother. I spend all of my time with those little bastards.
I'm rated 18th in the World for Competitive Eating. It makes my Mom nervous, she thought I was going to be a Doctor.
There's a mirror there, and I take a quick look to see who's looking back at me. It's the same dumpy fellow from an hour ago. These kettlebell classes are so tough that it's unfair that I dont look any better immediately after. I just look red and sweaty.
I throw my faded hotdog competition tshirt into my bag and sit for a moment. Two of the 'Karate Guys' are talking about they workout we just had. They are built solid, long and lean and have the body I'd like to have. I envy their endurance and am embarrassed when they are swinging heavier weights for twice as long as I can.
The guys have switched talk to some martial arts competition they are going to and who they think might show. My fingers are trembling slightly as I take off my shorts. I verify that the ripping sound I heard in class was my ass destroying a fine pair of cotton boxers. They are torn from legs straight up to the waistband. sigh.
Their talk has changed to nutrition. I listen in to see what I'm doing wrong (other than eating too much) Latte's made with liquid vitamins, Enzymes, Soy and Green Tea at Breakfast. Neither drinks coffee anymore because it hurts their tummys.
I scowl, grab my towel and head to the shower. Sissies....
Thank goodness we were spared the irony of Cheney being blown up by the terrorists that he created. Someone should check his machinery incase some of the wires, pumps or gears came loose in the blast though.
Havent heard much about the TWENTY humans that were killed in his stead.
In each of the last 3 WingBowls Wing Kong and I give a speech to our teams. It is simply "This is your only chance. If there is something that you want to do, that you must do, then do it. We may never be here again." It's an important speech because it lets the guys get as involved or uninvolved as they like. I dont want them to feel that this is about just me. I have my own things to worry about, they are free to make the experience what they want.
Me and my ten guys are locked in the concrete labyrinth beneath the Wachovia Center. We are all wearing our Kilts (except Artie Lange) and we have an 8ft Tall can of beer (filled with cases of beer). I race through my mental checklist, and there is nothing left to do. It's a case of 'Hurry Up & Wait' and we have 3 hours+ to kill.
Small men with shaved heads, glasses, headsets with microphones and clipboards hurry through the growing crowd of costumed drunkards. They say things like "OK PEOPLE" or just "PEOPLE" when they are herding groups of participants.
It's an exciting pandamonium to be part of. You can feel and share the excitment between these strangers because we are all part of the cast in this production. This is a Radio Teleplay, and we provide the Foley sounds behind the broadcasters voices. This is WingBowl and I consider it to be Musical about an Eating Competition. No one has told us who has won yet.
A piece of paper scotch taped to a wall mid-way down a random hallway states that it is Team Steakbellie's Lot. Our float is too big to bring with us and must remain by the loading dock. We gather around this piece of paper and wait. The guys are euphoric, and they are sipping covert beers in plastic cups. Clutches of strippers make their way down our hallway, and my guys are more than glad to great them with songs, or chanting and a posed photo or two.
I am the sober observer, and I watch the security guards who have surrounded our party fun. They have a leader, and he looks agngry...in fact he looks like he's ALWAYS angry. "Are you guys drinking beer? Thats against the rules! No Alcohol back here! Where's the rest of it? Next time I'm going to kick you out!"
4 or 5 Henchmen in Security Jackets collect the beers that my group is sipping. "What the fuck? This is WINGBOWL!"
The Asshole on a power trip moves onto the next crowd to hassel. I go for a walk to see the other floats and visit some other Eaters. My Enterauge switches to plan B, they reload their beer stock from the float and hide the cans in the fake plastic stomachs we have as costumes. (ALWAYS plan ahead) The guys then head to the bathrooms to pound beers college style.
Wing Kong is still working on his float. He is doing a Rocky theme and so his float is a boxing ring on wheels. His college buddies built it overnight and the fucking thing weighs over 500lbs. Wing Kongs sponsor is 'Delilah's Den' and he is given a stable of girls to be his wingettes. Also in his group, is some Porn Film Actress (days later I find out was thrown out of the stadium for doing something very bad in front of 20,000 people) Wing Kong is installing a brass stripper pole in the middle of the Float. Suddenly I realize I might not win the float competition. I move on.
There is US Male who is a Postal Worker who will pop out of giant mailbox.
There is Dave the Dumpster who will pop out of a Dumpster.
I wonder if I should be popping out of my beer can.
There is the Blind Beast who is a 300lbs Blind man. His Enterague are all his blind friends and they are dressed in Kung Foo outfits. I fall in love with them, but just dont know what to say...it's 7th Grade all over again.
Meanwhile.....Sgt Asshole continues to harrass my friends. "I KNOW you guys still have beer, and when I bust you, I'm going to throw you out."
I visit with my friends from the IFOCE. They are being kept separate from the other eaters....because....they are bad. At least during the Melodrama they are. People will boo them and tell them to go home. Afterwards they will ask for an autograph and a picture.
"They took the bar, they took the whole fucking bar!" This is an important part of the story. An unnamed friend of mine, made a completely ROOKIE move and retrieved some beer from the Trojan Beer can, under the watchful eye of Sgt Asshole. As I watched from afar, Security raided my blessed beercan of ALL of it's beer and threated to kick me out of the contest. While I forgive and love said friend, he owes me a beer or nine and perhaps something to eat.
The remaining time was filled with lots of people having lots of fun. I was tolerant, but really not a bag of sunshine. Things of note: * We finally met our Wingettes from McFaddens (wow! NOT a strip club!) and they were alot of fun. * 3 of my Enterauge did Interviews with TV crews who though they were me * My brother kicked some serious bagpipe tunage to rile up the group.
* My friends managed to get ahold of some more beer and sneak it back into the giant beercan. * Artie Lang sat quietly in the hallway reading the newspaper in his Glassboro State College sweatshirt. He was not wearing his kilt or his fake plastic belly. He was not chasing scantly clad women. He was the calm before the storm.
Big news today: Iran is behind in it's payments to Russia for a Nuclear Reactor they purchased. Scores of bill collectors call the Mahmoud Ahmadinejad household around the clock asking him why the payment is late. When can the next payment be expected? Dont you know this will affect your country's Credit Score?
Now dont you feel small, Mr Ahmadinejad? The Great Satan will get you one way or the other....
Some people must come from Chicago to compete. Some come from Florida. Some from Las Vegas.
They have it easy. Wing Kong and I have only to go about 10 miles, but we have to bring 40 drinking adults, costumes, 2 floats, signs, tshirts, and a yellow school bus with us...and it has to be exactly at 3AM Friday Morning. Out of towners need only bring themselves and their clothes...preferably some shoes too.
Wing Bowl tradition requires each eater to have 10 people that he selects as 'Enterauge'. These ten souls rally around their eater and help present him and his float to the gathered crowd before the Eating Competition. It is a good idea to get people that are not afraid of acting like a JackAss in front of 20,000 people, it's also smart to get guys who can take over some of the organizational duties in the weeks before the Contest.
Most of my Enterauge came back this year, and still had the kilts we made for WingBowl 14. My costume commitee decided to pair the kilts with 'Wife-Beater' style t-shirts and fake plastic bellys that they got off the internet. It was a simple look that kept us recognizable and well ventilated. Good Job Guys. Experience taught me that it's a bad idea to paint your face before a Eating Competition, and I've retired the tattoos out of simplicity.
The float committee had a much harder job. By committee I mean me and my neighbor who's a Carpenter. It was very difficult for me to settle on a float idea this year. I spent 3 months pondering ideas....all of them pretty much sucked. I called in the creative experts one night at the diner table.
"It can be something I ride on, or something that is pulled behind me. It cant be more than 7 feet wide." I said trying to give them the least amount of restrictions possible. Children have the most wonderful brains for this kind of job. "Oh, and we have to be able to hide four or five cases of beer inside it."
This was actually the MOST IMPORTANT restriction on the float. Wachovia Security is very tight with this sort of thing, (having alcohol in the holding area under the Stadium is a no-no) but in the past they have been willing to look the other way if you successfully snuck it in AND you werent being a flagrant asshole. Although I would not be drinking, it was imperitive for my Enterauge to have copious amounts as they spent 4 hours quarantined with me.
"How about a Giant Beer Can?" said my 10 year old.
Here the answer had been infront of me all along. It took the genius mind of my middle son to show me the trees in this forest. I could instantly see it in all it's glory...a giant Trojan Beer Can full of beer cans....could i be any more proud that my own son thought of it?
My friend, the carpenter was inspired and built an 8ft tall beer can that had a circumference of 12ft and could hold 96,000 fl oz of beer or alittle over 8,000 cans. The can was seemed verticaly and could be taken apart to fit into the aisle of a schoolbus, and reassembled with no tools. It had a trap door to access the secret contents inside.
The funny thing about having a real carpenters build your float is that it is of the upmost craftsmanship. In fact I marveled to him many times that it was nicer than my house.
Steakbellie:"This is nicer than my House" Brian the Carpenter: (silence)
The painting and labeling was up to me so I covered it in 8 cans of Krylon Silver Spray Paint and designed the label for it. A former employer gladly printed the label on their wide format printers in exchange for 4 Floor Seats and some tshirts. Saved me 15 hours of handpainting!
The label stated quite lovingly: "Steakbellie's Can O' Wup Ass"
2:00AM came very quickly for me and I feel fortunate to have gotten 3 hours sleep. I showered, Kilted, and stumbled down the stair to make coffee. (I will begrudgingly endure days without food, but kill you and your Mother if I dont get coffee) Through out the night friends and family arrived from far away places and crashed on available floorspace awaiting my wakening.
At 2:45 AM I had 15 People in my dining room. At 2:50 AM I had a Yellow School Bus idling in front of my house At 3:00 AM I had 30 people and the police out front
On board the bus were friends and neighbors of myself and WingKong. Most hadnt been on a schoolbus in decades and it's funny to see them revert back to childish behavior. All the alcohol they we drinking helped to.
With Floats secure in Pickup Trucks (the School Bus Didnt have an Emergency Door in the back!) We began our dark trek to the stadium. Wing Kong and I pined smiles to our faces and watched the loud fun, signing and chanting on the bus. I was ready and just wanted the competition to begin.
Police Escorts with flashing lights met us as we went from town to town. Each cruiser would hand us off to the next with Lights Blazing. That was fun for me and made this whole thing seem important somehow. (I told you people out here take this seriously)
Upon arriving at the Stadium at about 3:45AM (We had to show our security passes just to get in the lot) Each Team of 10 said their goodbyes to our friends & wives (who would remain on the bus for another 3 hours or so drinking and partying), loaded our floats up with alcohol, and dragged them through the bitter cold to the loading dock.
Living Creatures look for order, they look for understanding of their environment. Our Universe favors disorder.
We build things Time unbuilds them We fix things Things fall apart We Rust Our grandchildren try again
Acts of kindness are against the natural flow of the Entropy. Kindness shows an assessment of a local situation and an effort to set it right. To order it. A selfless act is the exponent of kindness. A selfless act given to a stranger? Wow.
Look into the stars. How much kindness do you see? It's all right here amongst us. We are the Center of the Kindness-Universe and I dont think Copernicus would argue that.
Someone needs a kidney I can verify that this is not one of those fake stories that everyone forwards. This is a real Person, that needs a real Kidney. You can help by Donating a Kidney.
You can also help by posting the link to your website or blog. Perhaps it will help reach someone is capable of doing this. Thankyou. -Eric-
i keep clicking on my blog every 5 minutes to see if I have written anything new. So much to say it's it's all backed up in my head. Need sleep methinks....
Last year I loved the weigh-in. It’s held at a Supermarket turned SportsBar, Chickie & Pete’s, right by the stadium the night before the WingBowl. The true function of it is to get the 25 Contestants and 100 plus Wingettes together to sign all of the necessary legal forms and pick up security badges for the event.
WIP has turned it into a media event where Press can get their first views of the Eaters and some interviews and the ‘Drive Home’ Radio slot can start to get excited about what is about to transpire. The new Eaters don’t always realize how enourmous WingBowl is, so this night is a taste of what is to come. Lots of costumes (mostly custom tshirts), scantly clad women, and drunk revelers.
It was probably my least favorite part of this years WingBowl, but only because I didn’t want to be distracted from what my goals were. I’d rather be home settling down my mind and trying to find a way to fall asleep. Still it was a good opportunity to meet the competition and I made an effort to shake everyones hand. My wife would be so very proud of me, being as that I’m afraid of meeting new people.
None of the fasting Eaters took up my offer of free pizza. I asked Joey Chestnut twice. Wing Kong tried to get somebody drunk. Yet another competitor tried to get a rival to go home with a beautiful model who seemed more than willing. We are a passive-aggressive bunch.
My family came with as well as my neighbors, and the kids were thrilled to get Photos with Joey Chestnut and Humble Bob. Joey was a little in awe in how his fame has spread, and I told him how my sons and their friends all know who he is.
Sidenote: Did you ever get into a milk rage, like when you start drinking a big glass, and you just down the whole thing and suddenly crave another glass? Joey once downed a whole gallon of milk in 41 seconds in what I consider, the greatest food stunt ever filmed. My wife is convinced she can beat him at it. No, Really...she'll open the fridge in the morning and be all like "I'm going Chestnut" while grabbing for the milk. I wonder if anyone out there mentions my name when they get drunk and fall down in the front yard.
The most interesting conversation occurred between a few of the Pros concerning the new “Fantasy Eating” League that has started amongst the Competitive Eating Community. It’s along the lines of Fantasy Football, but you pick from the top 50 Pros for 5 teams of 10. More on that another time, I know….total geek-o-rama.
Clad in my new Steakbellie t-shirt and my Black Watch Kilt, I walked onto the stage to be weighed in. In anticipation for this I had thought up an inspirational toast I would present to the crowd and have some fun. When the announcer came to me, I decided I was done with all the show and just wanted to compete. Lets just do this.
One of the radio announcers refused to shake my hand because I was wearing a dress. I sat on the huge Butchers scale for a perfect 230lbs. He asked what was in my Sporan (that man-purse that Scots wear because they have no pockets) I leaned into the mic…..”hotsauce” The crowd was very nice to me, and I signed a few autographs. Some drunk stripper kept grabbing my stomach when I tried to leave. What the hell is that?
Wow! You are truly a student of the Bible! Some of the questions were difficult, but they didn't slow you down! You know the books, the characters, the events . . . Very impressive!
I had an aweful lot to handle this weekend. The last two days were mostly filled with wrestling and I'm happy that my youngest placed first in a tournament today. I've begun work on the WingBowl posts and there is alot to cover. I see 4-5 posts total to get the eaters perspective. I have 1095 photos to sort through from the 12 hour span as well. That photo pool is still growing though as friends send me photos from that day.
I'm VERY grateful for the community we have here that has been supportive of my efforts and I want to present this event to you as best as I can describe it. I'm honored that Chris Radloff Live Blogged the event all the way from Iowa. His coverage was so good that it got picked up by Eatfeats (the foremost newssource of Competitive Eating)
Many of you have been reading this blog since my last appearance at WingBowl and know how badly I wanted to win. I ask you...why is the lesson I learn always 'Humility'? I had a strong showing and I think my description will explain alot about the placings.
I hope to begin releasing blog posts on Monday, but it could be as late as Tues, as I want them to come out together. As a blog-reader I'm impatient...as a writer...too picky...sorry.
This WingBowl may have had the most controversy than any other WingBowl
FORTUNATLEY I wasnt involved in any of it. I ate in the Sixties for the first round, which got me into the second round last year, but not this year. I happy with my level of cleaning, but was hoping to crack seventy. I have capacity and room for another 60 in the second round at the same speed, but just didnt earn the chance.
Humble Bob (5th in the world) was directly next to me and was subject to the same high level of scrutiny as me, from our judge. He beat me by almost a plate (20 wings) yet magically did not appear in the top 10.
The Locust (2nd place overall last year) and Chip Simpson (a wing champion of other contests) was to the right of him. I dont know their exact numbers but was pretty shocked that they didnt make second round.
Two local eaters somehow broke the first round record.
I had alot of support here, from ALOT of great people. I really had quite a great time. I'm disappointed with my own results but not terribly. I'm more angry for my friends. More details to follow....it was big...real big....
One of my favorite things is when my wife comes home with a bunch of trashy tabloids and we lay in bed with a glass of wine and laugh at Britney Spears.
I hate award shows and people who say 'fiance' too much.
