Crab Cake Competition

We blame it on the fact that the rental company gave us the brightest, most glittery blue car possible. Of course, the fact that I was going 80 in a 65 MPH zone doesn't help. But in either case, we are pulled over by a cop on the New Jersey Turnpike. This isn't good for many reasons, but the most immediate one is that we're worried we'll miss the crab cake competition that awaits us in Baltimore. And we're running late. The cop leans in the passenger's side window and gives us the verdict: "I pulled you over because you were going 81 in a 65." My mind races and I decide to risk it all on the one card I might have up my sleeve. "I'm so sorry! We're covering a crab cake eating competition in Baltimore and we're running late." He looks interested. I smile. "Do you follow competitive eating?" I ask.

He laughs and says, "Are you calling me fat?" D'oh!

"No! Actually, a lot of them are quite trim." It's not quite the right time to launch into a Belt of Fat Theory crash course, but I'd apparently entertained some part of him because he comes back with a ticket reduced to 5 miles over the speed limit.

"Don't eat too many crab cakes, now," he says as he strolls away. If only he knew our group crab cake intake for the day would only amount to a quarter of a certain amazing gurgitator's. And that we were almost in Delaware, where his jurisdiction would run out and we could hit 80 again.

Even with our slow start and little highway adventure, we end up getting to the event with some time to spare. The day couldn't be nicer, with wide blue skies, a slight breeze, and the sun bouncing off ships lining the shores of Inner Harbor. This year's crab cake competition, sponsored by Philips, is taking place in the heart of Baltimore's Waterfront Festival and the mood is electric. This is our first opportunity to attend an outdoor competition, and the atmosphere seems just right.

One of my friends spots Crazy Legs just as we're entering the harbor; he's hard to miss in a bright purple shirt, with his blond-tinged dreadlocks peeking out from under a cowboy hat. We flag him down and he takes us to the main stage. It turns out his crew of travelers from New York hit some snags, too, when they got stuck in bad traffic and blew out a tire on a rented van. The setback was almost devastating for them, as they were headed to Nacho Mama's in Canton for the release party of National Bohemian (Natty Boh) 40 oz.

Now might be a good time to mention Crazy Legs's slight obsession with Natty Boh. A regional beer, known primarily (from what I can gather) for its extreme affordability and one-eyed mascot, it's become a beloved staple in Crazy Leg's life. He lists it as only one of four products he would officially endorse. (The others are Old Bay Seasoning, another local product; Uniball Micro Fine pens with metal clips, now discontinued; and Worldwide Bidet. I actually have no idea what that last one's about.)

So true is Crazy Legs's devotion to Natty Boh, that while here in Baltimore eating crab cakes competitively, he'll go so far as to make it his beverage of choice for the contest. On a circuit where the type, amount, flavoring, and receptacles of liquids are among the most important factors to consider, picking a carbonated alcoholic beverage is highly irregular. But then, Crazy Legs is feeling good. He likes visiting Baltimore, which houses his alma mater, Johns Hopkins, and he's just emerged as the victor of the first Nathan's Qualifier of 2006, which makes him more relaxed than any of the other serious eaters we'll see today.

As we approach the main stage, we catch glimpses of eaters donning red shirts and chatting with groups of people. Because of the sheer size of the place, our usual tactic of roaming from eater to eater for pre-game thoughts is sort of shot from the beginning. We give up early on on the idea of getting to talk to everyone, but decide to catch who we can. We, with Crazy Legs, approach Eric "Badlands" Booker, Tim "Eater X" Janus and a new person I've never met, who are all standing around talking and taking the occasional picture with fans. Booker is excited about being outdoors, too. "I like the energy of the outside competitions. It's festive."

He won't be competing today, but is prepared to perform for the audience. Like most of the eaters, he's focusing on Nathan's, getting ready to compete at the South Street Seaport qualifier in June, which is restricted to civil service employees. It's a qualifier that was "handed down" to him when "Hungry" Charles Hardy retired, and one that Booker is expected to win. But he has other things going on, too. "We might be on 'Wife Swap!'" he tells me with a smile.

I ask if he thinks he'll be the normal family or the crazy family, and he shrugs and says he's up for whatever, and he's sure they'll stick him with a fanatical vegan, but that he'll be accommodating for whatever comes his way. I interpret that as meaning he'll be the normal family. He gets a wicked little gleam in his eye thinking about training the new wife in competitive eating.

Tim, who had stepped away, joins the group again and Badlands points to him saying, "This guy here is my biggest hero. He taught me to change my water to lemonade, iced tea, all kinds of stuff." Tim smiles and demurs, but it's clear Badlands is sincere. And he's not the only fan of Tim's. The guy I don't know turns out to be Seaver Miller, a first time competitor here today and one who is completely excited to be here with the eaters. He gets a picture with Tim and Badlands and tells them that he watched the MTV special that featured Tim. His wife and new baby are here with him today and while he says he's just happy to be here, he would like to put away 25-30 crab cakes and hopes his Jell-O training will pay off.

While I'm talking to Seaver, Jennie (our stellar fill-in for Krista while she's in China) has a chance to chat with Tim. While he's glad to be there and hoping to finish well, he's been feeling uninspired lately. He tells me later that he's in need of a break. Having been going full force in these competitions, he hasn't had the time to let his body and mind get the rejuvenation they need. He fears he's in a place where he can't take a break, but also can't improve. He'll be defending his shoo fly pie title and attending his hometown qualifier in Hartford in June, and needs to maintain his focus throughout the next two months in order to stay in the game. In spite of all these thoughts running through his head, he seems upbeat. His mask is painted blue, which is doing something, um, nice to his eyes, and he seems to be looking forward to getting to hang out with everyone after the competition.

"Buffalo" Jim Reeves strolls up, a sweet man with a dollop of hair on top of an otherwise shaved head. This is my first time meeting Jim, who ranks #15 right now and holds the watermelon championship title. He flew here today from Buffalo after winning Sabers tickets for his 9-year-old daughter, Emily, the night before in a local competition. When he says he's planning on attending the Philly Nathan's qualifier-the same one Sonya's going to-I wonder if it makes him feel like not going. I figure it must be a let down to realize the qualifier you've signed up for will be attended by the nation's number one eater, but Jim says he's done avoiding people. "When I first started, I used to pick qualifiers at the end, because by that time most of the really good eaters had already qualified, but now I don't try to avoid anyone." He figures at the worst it's good practice, and at the best he could score a wild card slot.

This might be true for Jim, but Ken "Mongo" Federighi is visibly relieved to learn that Sonya won't be at the Norfolk qualifier, where he'll be attending. I'm happy to run into Ken, an eater we've run into at several competitions but never caught up with. A native of Maryland, he's tall and muscular with tattooed arms and close cut hair and goatee. His specialty is wings, and he tells me about competing in the "Suicide Chicken Wing Competition" (not IFOCE), where the competitors aren't allowed to drink, but are forced to resist the ultimate temptation as fresh Rolling Rocks are placed along the table. "I like to take a swig of the hot sauce on the table when I sit down. Y'know, to intimidate the others. But one year I decided to rub it all over my chest." Which, if you haven't guessed, turned out to be an awful idea. "It blistered up and was awful!" Ken says, his face contorting with the memory of the pain.

The time is closing in on the competition and we start to make our way through the crowd to secure a good place to take pictures. We catch a glimpse of Chip Simpson, tanned and freckled on his way back stage. He stops to say hi, but seems very focused on the upcoming competition. The only other time I'd seen Chip was at meatballs in Atlantic City, which turned out to be a rather, er, unfortunate event for the 24-year-old student (though he maintains there was no reversal), which made me curious to see how he'd place today. He, too, will be attending the Philly qualifier, rounding out what seems likely to be an all-star cast on May 27th. Minnesota and Atlanta are also on his list in case Philly goes to another eater.

We also run into Ryan Nerz, who is emceeing today's competition. This is a twist of luck, because he's very Digest-friendly and let Jennie, Josh (our cameraman) and me into the little media cage set up in front of the stage, where we have a fantastic view of everyone. At one point the organizer ran up to me frantically and asked if I was press. "Uh yeah, we're from Digest."

"Digest? What Digest? Are you supposed to be here?"

I have to keep assuring her that we were told it was fine and that she could check with Ryan, which eventually seems to calm her down. She looks skeptically at our little camera and handheld camcorder sandwiched in between all the ESPN cameras and professional lenses. I follow her gaze.

"We're just a little less high tech." She smiles and wishes us luck.

Ryan is joined on stage by a new emcee, Eddie Dunn, a performer with The Upright Citizen's Brigade, and Charles Hardy who is checking over the plates (cardboard slabs) of 25 crab cakes arranged at each eater's station.

Ryan welcomes everyone and then drops a bomb: a no dunking rule will be in effect for the entire competition. The fans in the crowd are audibly shocked and there's a low murmur of discussion. He goes on to explain that it's one of the ways in which Hardy is trying to better regulate the standards of the competition. Later, the eaters will disagree on whether the rule effected their eating. David "Brickhouse" Braunstein, another native of Maryland, dunked in training and thought it threw him off to have to eat them dry. "Humble" Bob Shoudt, true to his name, thought it wouldn't have made any difference. "The crabcakes were almost all crab and were almost falling apart as they were. If you'd have dunked them, they would have just disappeared into the water."

In any case, the eaters don't have a choice. Ryan and Eddie begin calling the competitors onto stage as huge crowd cheers them on. Crazy Legs comes out holding up his Natty Boh cans in triumph, Tim, clearly recognized by the audience, gets loud applause, Bob comes out in mirrored sunglasses and a hat that (ironically?) says "Humble Bob." For the first time in a competition, he gets a seat that will be right next to Sonya, a fact that he later says helped him by being able to keep track of her progress. Justin Mih, one of our favorite up-an-comers (still with no nickname) comes out all smiles and waves, and a troop of local talent fills in the edges. You can almost hear the audience holding their breath for Sonya and a giant roar goes up when she finally takes the stage, last. In 2005, she set a new world record by eating 40 crab cakes in 12 minutes. This year, the competition is only 10 minutes long, and she hopes to still break her standing record.

There's some last minute shuffling of waters and crab cakes, and then we're ready to watch a champion emerge. Ryan gives the signal and the gurgitators dig in. Humble Bob and Chip Simpson are the only ones sitting; the rest are standing and grabbing what they can. Sonya's technique involves palming a crab cake and stuffing the entire thing in her mouth at once, chewing briefly and swallowing almost whole. Tim is taking smaller bites, but getting them down pretty quickly. Crazy Legs's beverage choice is interacting in a pretty hilarious way with the speed: a white foam starts to build up around his goatee as he munches the crab cakes, chugs the beer, and does his own, more dancey, version of the Koby shake.

Sonya has ten down in the first minute and she looks like she's only just getting started. With her eyes squeezed shut in concentration, she seems to be mentally sending the food into her stomach through pure will. With Humble Bob it's a different scene all together. Watching the tape later, J remarks, "It looks like he's sitting down to dinner." It's true. The speed at which he's eating is almost imperceptibly faster than usual. Chip, too, seems to be taking a sneak attack. Like several of the eaters, he's listening to music while eating. He tells us later that it was Metallica and Linkin Park that were helping him get through the crab cakes this afternoon. It's definitly working. He's in a groove and the updates from his side of the table come with surprised exclamations from the emcees.

David "Brickhouse" Braunstein, who wanted so badly for this to be his event, is looking pained. He's clearly not doing as well as he'd like, and at one point he looks out to someone in the audience and just shakes his head "no." It's heart-breaking! Justin Mih is also looking a bit worn, but sticking in there. He loses a couple crab cakes to the floor, but sweeps down to scoop them up and eat them down. Sonya's pace remains steady as she bobs in place, shuttling the food to her belly.

Time is called and all the eaters step away to finish what's in their mouths. Hardy comes around to examine the remains and mark official scores, while Booker comes up to perform. It turns out the sound equipment wasn't working with his backup tracks, so the emcees lay some improvisational beats down. Booker plays along until Eddie does a weird chopping thing to his neck, which creates a loud barkng sound. At this point Badlands takes the mike away shows them how it's done. He's preparing for the compilation of his new album "Jim Mullen's Teeth," early tracks of which he'll later let us listen to.

Finally Ryan comes out with the results. In third place: Humble Bob with 38 crab crakes. And in a surprise upset, Chip Simpson takes second place with 39 crab cakes. Sonya, of course, comes in first with a record-shattering 46 crab cakes in 10 minutes. Tim followed closely with 37, then Jim with 29.5, and Brickhouse Braunstein took fifth with 23. Crazy Legs only ate 20, but also downed three Natty Bohs, which seems like it should count for something. And if the IFOCE is looking for fresh talent, they might keep their eyes on Seaver Miller, the newbie from earlier, who finished with a respectable 21 crab cakes.

Crazy Legs has good things to say about Chip, who he includes in his "Saved By the Bell Gang," representing the demographic of younger eaters. He jokes that people don't expect much from Chip because he looks like Raggedy Andy, but he is getting much better at mental preparation and other eaters should take heed of Chip as he continues to improve.

Speaking of new young eaters, Booker tells us later about Charles Hardy Jr.'s planned debut at the Molly Pitcher qualifier. Booker is already impressed with the talent he thinks is inherent in young Charles. The college freshman put down 24.5 Nathan's HDB in a recent training run. He's quick to note it's an unofficial ruling, but it's still sounding impressive to me. And what about the chances that Booker's own 13-year-old son will begin training in five years to take on a second generation of competitive eaters? Booker just shakes his head and smiles.

After the competition, the day melts into an obscure, but ridiculously fun, series of events. We meet up with several of the eaters, the emcees, their friends, and Kate Westfall, the lovely young woman who oversees all the details of the IFOCE events. We end up on a water taxi, at a couple great bars in Fells Point, and, later in the evening, at the Mayor's Ball, an event we're only slightly underdressed for. It's really nice getting to see the camaraderie between the eaters, and I get the same feeling that this is really what it's all about for them. Talk of the cancellation of the Alka Seltzer bowl comes up and everyone expresses disappointment at losing a three-day stretch in which to visit with one another at leisure. That's what it's really all about, the sentiment in the air says. And sitting there with them, under the clear Baltimore night sky, it's hard to disagree.

Lots of pictures here. More here!

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Would you like to attend an eating competition and be in the studio audience for a brand new show? The IFOCE might be looking for you. Details about this weekend's filming of Eats of Strength in NY here.

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Krista and I have been looking forward to attending the pickle eating competition held this year at Carnagie Deli at the end of May. There's been an ongoing controversy about the IFOCE's involvement in this, but Beautiful Brian has just written me to tell me they're officially out due to AICE members' participation. (Any comments about this should be directed to Brian.)