Dog Fare

Why the Large Fares Poorly
at Competitive Eating Shows

It’s always the skinny ones. No matter how poised to win, or driven to dominate their opponents, with a massive whale of a body to match the hype, the winner of the infamous Nathan’s Fourth of July hot-dog eating competition​ at Coney Island, New York City, has been always a size 30-32 regular type of body. The old Coney may be gone, but the winner of this or any year could fit right into its old glorious photos.
Hell, a diminutive Japanese man won it several times, and the former champion, whose family name is a nut, no less, won it eight times straight, only to be dethroned this year by, you guessed it, a smaller-sized man. What gives? The answer scratches dangerously close on the body stereotypes some use to put others down.
But if you can forget the PC etiquette for just a minute, you may wonder why this happens, that is, if a eating competition has even the clout to reflect the alimentary habits of the society at large which surrounds it, and promotes it as some kind of Roman circus, year in and year out. For more info on the subject, check Island, Coney, New York, et al.
Wouldn’t it be that fat people have already a ‘natural’ tendency to eat more than anyone else? And I mean, the ‘minority’ ones that are fat because indeed they love food as much as anybody else but can’t quite control the moment when hunger and food satisfaction switch to something more pathological and psychologically-tilted as a five-hour late night snacking binge and such.
Wouldn’t it be logical to expect that someone with a larger body type would be able to store more food at any moment’s notice, than a smaller person? Are we too far out of our depths to be puzzled at the fact that practice should make it at least more perfect the act of consuming calories and carbons and fat and proteins at a higher rate than those not er endowed with a larger stomach? We are.

Finally, wouldn’t it be at least reasonable to expect that anyone with a taste for regularly downing a few burgers on a single sitting, along with several ounces of sugary soda, and maybe a pint or two of ice cream and cake, be somehow more capable of digesting it all at a quicker rate and, therefore, theoretically, be faster at getting ready for seconds?
Shouldn’t we be entitled to wonder that, at least for that reduced segment of fat people who do enjoy eating, or rather, eat it first, and maybe enjoy it after, and who seem capable to eat through happiness and grief at equal measures, would produce formidable professional eaters, impressing all those around them with the gargantuan amount of food that they can consume?
Well, apparently, not. As the fancy-named ‘industry’ of competitive eating has been showing, almost at the same proportion that it’s popping all over the U.S. ever more often, the large and the massive make up for poor public eaters, and that may be a clue to understand one of the factors determining the intriguing trend, for those who care to comment on it.
Every time such a primitive, brutish competition is announced, there’s always a roster of very big bodies ready to take on it, promising to those who like that sort of repulsing display, thrilling moments of chewing, face-turning, globs of food-downing, and regurgitation, not one soul has ever witnessed before. And yet, they all wind up defeated, if not deflated, by some 5’1′ kid from Brooklyn or somewhere else.
It certainly can’t be the quality of the cuisine being served. As any pop psychologist would be eager to tell you, for a moderate fee, of course, the compulsion of eating can be about pretty much anything, but it’s rarely about the food. In other words, if it’s late night, you’re alone, and are done watching infomercials and reruns, whatever is in your fridge is fair game. Let’s have another slice, please.
Neither can it be the audience. For as much as the organizers of that kind of event would love to have someone who really enjoys making an ass of him or herself for all the world to see, for a fee, of course, arguably most big eaters are closet eaters, and may not feel at ease proclaiming their obsession in front of a blood-thirsty crowd, who would be just fine if you’d choke to death for their own enjoyment.
One can safely imagine that at least a dozen selfies would be taken, if ever such a depressing moment would come into view, before anyone would think about dialing 911. Before your last breath on stage, a viral video of your final moments would certainly be already on Facebook. But let’s let that particular pack of wolves lie quietly for the moment.

Back to hot dogs, there may be a time when a respectful organization will finally come to our rescue and explain, in layman terms, why is that most winners of eating competitions are skinny people. For those bastards never seem to engorge no matter how many bums or slices or dead animals or gelatin packs they ingest at a neck and artery breaking speed.
While such a precise, well researched, and no doubt, heartily funded study is still being concocted in the back room of some animal-testing lab, all we have is the uneducated, rude, most likely anti-PC speculation being served by this post. For those to whom public displays of bodily functions, for a fee, naturally, is still a misunderstood art form, life is a string of challenging queries such as it is.
Now I must leave you: although I’ve tipped the scale at an youthful 380 pounds, I’m determined to rewrite history this year, and my name is about to be called. So prepare your cell cameras for I ride to eternity, and should be standing rightly proud at the end of this run with the envious title of World’s Supreme Competitive Eating Winner, so help me Edesia. Or lying cold on my back. Whichever is less fattening.
Read Also:
* Belly Ache
* Racy Meals

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