In my 23rd year of professional competitive eating, I wonder if it is time to retire.
I ponder how the greats of other sports ended their runs. Tom Brady of the NFL (23-year career) and Kevin Garnett of the NBA (21-year career) finally retired, not due to their mental focus, but due to the wear and tear on their bodies.
I am neither the Tom Brady nor the Kevin Garnett of the Major League Eating circuit – at this stage of my career, I’m more like the backup punter or even the ball boy – but my mantra of “mind over stomach matter” feels less appealing to me these days than it did 20 years ago.
On Saturday, I’ll be competing in a Nathan’s Famous hot dog qualifier in Washington, D.C.. My friends, fans and – most importantly – even other competitive eaters have told me I should make it my last contest. They say it’s time to hang up the esophagus.
At the Sports Grill Wings for Wishes Eating Contest two months ago, Joey Chestnut himself told me that I should retire if I came in last. That day, I ate 58 wings in 10 minutes to come in second-last and avoid the confrontation with the champ.
Competitive eating is hard enough, even when you’re turning in top finishes. For starters, there’s nausea, heartburn, anxiety. For most of us, it doesn’t pay enough to become our only job. To layer on not feeling good enough, which I do more and more these days, I wonder if it’s all worth it at this point in my career.
Fifteen years ago – in the prime of my pro-eating career – I was able to quaff 9.75 pounds of strawberry shortcake in eight minutes and finish in the prize money at the Mattituck Lions World Strawberry Shortcake Eating Championship on Long Island.
Recently at the same contest, I managed a paltry six pounds of the dessert in eight minutes and finished dead last. It’s a reminder that I am no longer the elite eater I once was, and my heart is not in every bite.
Do I stand a chance to make it to Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest on July 4? I’ve competed in it 16 out of the last 22 years, but this year seems improbable. I had my worst total of my career at the New York City qualifier three weeks ago, and competed under an 85-foot hot dog art installation that spewed confetti out one end. I ate less than half the amount I needed to be in the running for a spot on July 4.
To compete at Nathan’s Famous on July 4, one must qualify at an earlier hot dog contest by winning outright or earning one of four wild card spots.
This year’s performances have been astronomical so far. Competitors have eaten hot dogs in the high 30s or 40s, while my personal best in hot dog buns is in the high 20s.
Even Joey “Jaws” Chestnut, the G.O.A.T. of the sport, is moving on from beef-based franks to a vegan brand, Impossible. He’s signed a deal with Netflix to face Takeru Kobayashi. It’s been 15 years since their last bout.
The fans will miss Joey on July 4, but will they miss a table-ender like myself? I will most certainly miss them.
People ask me what I get out of competitive eating. It’s taken me around the world — I’ve entertained the military, which is the best thing I’ve done as a human, not just a competitive eater.
I’m maybe the only food stuntman on the planet — I once ate my way out of 80 cubic feet of popcorn, dubbed, “the popcorn sarcophagus.” I also climbed, untethered, to the top of the Wonder Wheel car (also known as the Coney Island Ferris Wheel) and rode atop a car while eating Nathan’s hot dogs and buns.
I’ve risked my life for my stomach. Where will the thrills come from if I retire?
When I stare at my gut in the mirror, I wonder: Do I have anything else to prove in competitive eating?
I’ve got a documentary (“Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating”); a book “The Loneliness of the Long Distance Eater”); two video games; hundreds of media appearances, including Letterman (I ate 459 oysters, Letterman ate three), Jimmy Fallon (a giant milkshake) and the Sopranos (I was on an episode whacking cannoli); a championship oyster belt; and a lifetime of memories to digest.
Still, while your stomach can fill up, your mind never can, and mine wonders if I can push fading peristalsis off just a little bit longer. I am still hungry for more!
Onstage or not, I’ll be at Coney Island on July 4 for the Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest. I’ll also be at Ruby’s Bar and Grill on the boardwalk and the Gaf West in Manhattan to party with the other competitors afterward.
If you think competitive eaters drool a lot at the table, you should see them post-contest when they switch to whiskey.
At Coney Island, I’ll chat with family, friends and fans. Without Joey, the contest promises to be a bun buzzer beater. I’ve got Pat “Deepdish” Bertoletti beating James “J-Webby” Webb in overtime with totals in the low 50s.
The women’s contest may also feature an upset as overseas competitors are getting stronger as the sport grows worldwide.
Questions I ask myself when I imagine my life without competitive eating: Would you relegate yourself to the occasional restaurant challenge? All-you-can-eat sushi buffets?
Many retired pro athletes turn to coaching or announcing to stay close to the game. But for a retired competitive eater, perhaps each lunch is a reminder of time gone by.
For now at least, I’ll focus on the next table. Age is just a number, but so is a hot dog and bun total.