I’ve been a professional competitive eater for 23 years, and I’m wondering if it’s time to retire.
I wonder how the all-time greats in other sports came to an end. After 23 years in the NFL and 21 years in the NBA, respectively, Tom Brady and Kevin Garnett retired owing to physical wear and tear on their bodies rather than a lack of mental focus.
My motto of “mind over stomach matter” feels less tempting to me now than it did twenty years ago. I am not the Tom Brady or Kevin Garnett of the Major League Eating circuit; at this point in my career, I am more like the backup punter or perhaps the ball boy.
I’m competing in a Nathan’s Famous hot dog qualifier in Washington, D.C. on Saturday. Friends, supporters, and most importantly, fellow competitive eaters have advised me to consider this my final competition. It’s time, they say, to hang up the esophagus.
Joey Chestnut personally warned me two months earlier at the Sports Grill Wings for Wishes Eating Contest that if I finished last, I should resign. I consumed fifty-eight wings in ten minutes that day in order to finish second and stay out of the champ’s way.
Eating competitively can be difficult enough, even if you’re placing highly. To begin with, there’s heartburn, nausea, and anxiety. It doesn’t pay well enough for the majority of us to make it our exclusive job. I wonder if it’s all worth it at this stage in my career, to top it off with feeling inadequate, which is something I experience more and more these days.
In the height of my professional eating career, fifteen years ago, I managed to consume nine and a half pounds of strawberry shortcake in just eight minutes, placing me in the prize money division of the Mattituck Lions World Strawberry Shortcake Eating Championship on Long Island.
I just finished dead last at the same challenge, having consumed a pitiful six pounds of the dessert in eight minutes. It serves as a reminder that my heart is not in every meal and that I am not the gourmet chef that I once was.
Is there any possibility I’ll be able to attend the July 4 Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest? Out of the last 22 years, I’ve participated in 16 of them, but this year appears unlikely. Three weeks ago, I competed under an 85-foot hot dog art installation that spewed confetti out one end, and I had the worst total of my career there. On July 4, I consumed less than half of what I needed to in order to be considered for a place.
One must qualify from a previous hot dog competition by taking first place or receiving one of four wild card places in order to compete at Nathan’s Famous on July 4.
Even the greatest athlete in history, Joey “Jaws” Chestnut, is switching from beef-based franks to a vegan brand called Impossible. He’s agreed to fight Takeru Kobayashi on Netflix. Since their previous fight, fifteen years have passed.
On July 4, Joey’s fans will miss her, but will they miss a table-ender like me? Without a doubt, I will miss them.
I’m frequently asked what I gain from competing in eating. I’ve traveled the world doing it, and entertaining the armed forces is the best thing I’ve ever done as a person—not just a competitive eater.
Known as “the popcorn sarcophagus,” I once ate my way out of 80 cubic feet of popcorn, making me possibly the only food stuntman on the planet. In addition, I rode atop a car and untetheredly ascended to the top of the Wonder Wheel car, also called the Coney Island Ferris Wheel, all while consuming Nathan’s hot dogs and buns.
I’ve put my life in danger for my stomach. If I retire, where will the thrills come from?
I ask myself, “Do I have anything else to prove in competitive eating?” when I look into the mirror and examine my stomach.
