Competitive Eating: August 2006 Archives
There were some tense moments about an hour before the pros were scheduled to start the Three Brother's pizza competition. Rumors flew that a delayed flight for Pat Bertoletti, coming in from Chicago, might hold him up indefinitely. Of course, adding to the drama was the recent airline policy changes about bringing liquid on board, which "Big" Brian Subich speculated might have been the problem. "It was probably his competition drinks!" he joked to Chip Simpson, as they milled in the audience before the amateur contest. Looking over the crowd and then back at Chip, Brian cracked a half smile, "I like Pat, but I wouldn't cry any tears..." He trailed off. "I'm sure you wouldn't either."
Even though many of the eaters are close with each other, no one was forgetting this was a competition, and a star-studded one at that. The pizza competition brought out not only ranked gurgitators like "Humble" Bob Shoudt, Larry "The Legend" McNeil, Allen "The Shredder" Goldstein, David "Brickhouse" Braunstein, and Pat from Moonachie, but also the blogging crowd: Steakbellie, Dave "MegaMunch" Shoffner, and Andrew "Skinnyboy" Lane. The table was going to be packed with talent and personality, and certainly there was some relief that Sonya Thomas wouldn't be a threat that day, as originally thought. Though she was billed to come to the contest on her home turf, she ended up overseas in Hong Kong winning a lotus seed bun eating contest.
With the number three ranked eater off the table, the bets were on Pat Bertoletti to take the title (if his flight ever arrived), though no one was ready to write off Bob or Chip just yet. In the meantime, the eaters buzzed about the specifics of the day's rules, namely that there would be no dunking or water baths, and that four crusts would equal an entire slice of pizza. Though this last rule was intriguing, it bothered some eaters that the final numbers would represent an approximation rather than a solid total. It may have been instituted as a way to penalize those who left pieces behind or to account for bread debris, but the thought among the eaters was that it would be too tempting to just skip the filling crusts all together and take the deduction instead of eating whole slices. While eaters are usually concentrating on just eating as much as possible, in this competition, they could now play a strategizing math game. No one seemed entirely pleased with the rule, but it didn't mean they wouldn't adjust and take advantage of it.
The stage was set in the middle of the Beltway Plaza Mall in Greenbelt, MD. And when we say "mall," we mean the most old school mall you can possibly imagine, complete with Kay-B Toys and a piecing pagoda. A large, translucent dome in the ceiling arched over the table, bathing the participants and spectators in a dim suggestion of daylight, but the air remained stuffy with the wafting scent of pizza mixed with commerce. Before the pros took the stage, a 10-minute amateur competition for Maryland residents was set to commence. The IFOCE's Mike Castellano, our emcee for the day, boomed out over the speakers - cranked to maximum volume - to welcome the big crowd that had gathered at the foot of the stage.
The pizza for the day was supplied by Three Brother's Italian Restaurant, who were celebrating their 30th anniversary. If it wasn't for the fact that we were in an enclosed area bordered by shoddy gold jewelry shops, the festive air, clowns, balloon animals, face paint, free Italian ices, and prize giveaways would suggest the atmosphere of a fair or festival. But as it was, we felt merely depressed, and scenes from Dawn of the Dead kept popping in our minds as we walked mindlessly through the mall's murky corridors.
We took advantage of our early arrival to sample a couple slices of the famed pizza, so we'd know firsthand what the competitors would be up against that day. Not to mention we were hungry after driving in from Manhattan early that morning. We ordered our slices and piled in one of the red vinyl booths lining the walls. The slices had a crisp bottom, holding their shape when you picked them up, but their overall density didn't seem to be too intimidating. Even with the added layers of cheese and sauce, the pizza lacked heft, which we deemed good for the competition. After we had our fill of pizza we made our way back to the main stage for the amateur competition.
The amateurs took the stage and we picked arbitrary favorites based on who seemed to look the most hungry and focused. Each were given two pizzas to start with and, as they began to eat, it was evident that most of the eaters had taken the crust rule as an allowance to leave behind a pile of pizza bones. Mike Castellano quickly realized the consistency problems this was going to cause as he instructed various eaters on how much crust was too much to leave behind. Standing in the crowd with Chip, he seemed bothered by this, too. "Who's to say where the crust starts?" he wondered. "They're not going to do it in this competition, but they should have it so you have to finish your whole pie first before moving onto your next one."
This made us wonder about the creation of food standardization guidelines that would be the official ruling in cases like this. It would be handy to have a standard definition of the size of a pizza crust or a way to translate the winner of an 18-inch-pizza competition to be meaningful for a winner of a 16-inch-pizza competition. We realize this might me more trouble than its worth for sponsors to worry about, but it's another one of those things (like giving final numbers to all the participants) that would mean something to the eaters. Three Brothers announced they are in talks with the IFOCE about the possibility of creating a circuit event, which would really bode well for pizza consistency.
Amid a flurry of crusts and sauce, an amateur winner emerged: a tiny 39-year-old woman dubbed "Beautiful" Juliet Lee, won with 11 pieces of pizza in 10 minutes. The crowd freaked out because she demolished her male--and much larger--competition by almost doubling the amount eaten by the second and third place winners (6.5 and 6 slices, respectively). Offstage, her children, two adorable young girls, happily clung to the giant trophy. Their eyes were wild with excitement as they told us yes, they knew she ate a lot, but no they didn't expect her to win. Juliet, for her part, had more than a bit of bravado. There's no false modesty when she tells us she could have eaten more, easily. We ask if she knows about Sonya Thomas and she replied, "Oh yes. But I can eat more than her." Juliet says she would look forward to an oyster competition or cheesecake, which she thinks she'd do well in. We hope Brian Seiken doesn't mind sharing his nickname, because we think the circuit will be welcoming a new trencherwoman soon.
As the stage was cleaned up for the pro competition, which was delayed to make more pizzas, we got a chance to make our rounds with the eaters. Justin Mih approached with a smile but immediately announced, "You guys outed me to my dad!" Oh no! It turns out Mr. Mih DOES like to google, and found out about his son's competitive eating when he came across our interview with Justin at corned beef and cabbage. Naturally, we were pretty horrified to have played a part in any real family drama and added that we hoped it was okay now. "Well, he thinks I'm disgracing the family name." Yikes! Okay, there's only one solution to this problem: Justin needs a nickname now more than ever.
Despite the family controversy, he continues to build his capacity by downing canned vegetables and using his medical and science connections to research ways to improve his eating. His brother, a doctor, advised him against competing, but his boss, who works for a medical journal, told him that "no one really knows what eating a lot in [in competition] does to your body," which Justin took as encouragement. A friend in speech therapy also gave him stretching techniques that help make one's throat more pliant. We talked about how amazing it would be to see what the body was doing on the inside during competition, and briefly fantasized about a competition between the top eaters held - cartoon style - behind an x-ray screen so you could see what was happening in the throat and stomach. "Maybe for Halloween," said Justin.
Allen "The Shredder" Goldstien passed by with a soft pretzel in a paper bag. When asked if he was planning to eat it before the competition he said, "It's for my wife." The couple was celebrating their 5th year wedding anniversary, and Allen promised he had more planned for the weekend than the eating competition. "Tomorrow's going to be all about her," he said with a smile. He opened the bag and took a deep whiff of the warm pretzel to rev his stomach, then left to deliver the treat.
Steakbellie, decked out in his trademark kilt, and Dave “Megamunch” Shoffner, sans hat, talked to us about how they felt their Internet presence connected them to the sport of competitive eating. Steakbellie, who works as a director of IT, says his blog is a real mental release for him and that he enjoys reading about other competitors and learning new techniques and training exercises, like stretching one's stomach with water to expand capacity. Dave says he's up-front about not expecting others to divulge their trade secrets, but that he also enjoys the camaraderie and community that comes from those who leave comments and like to talk about their experiences on the circuit.
We also met some newer eaters on the block, Pete Miernicky, a 20-year-old Drexel undergrad, who said he had wanted to compete since he was 11-years-old. He competed in crab cakes as well, but was getting ready to take some time off to train. He said he decided to take some time off in order to train and improve after watching that memorable scene from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure where they decide that if they actually practiced their guitars they might actually be able to play them one day. A guy who called himself "Big" Dan was also in attendance and when asked how much pizza he thought he could eat he answered with a cool, "Let's just say I can win the contest." He didn’t win, but with that much conviction we hope he sticks around.
We found Larry "The Legend" McNeil sitting alone on a bench before the contest, sporting his usual mirrored sunglasses and looking forlorn. He's not what you would call a "mixer" but when you get up the nerve to approach him he is always pleasant and forthcoming. He'd come up from Atlanta to compete and had to fly right back after the contest. He said his problem isn't quantity, it's speed and assured us that if the contest was a bit longer he might be a contender for first place.
Around this time we spied a black Mohawk peeking up at the edge of the crowd, and the eaters knew a late flight wasn't going to keep the top eater from making his appearance. With his bag strapped to his back, Pat quickly dispelled the rumors about being stopped for carrying liquid. He did have to check his bag, which he doesn't usually do, and was concerned not for his drinks (which he brings in powdered form), but for his hair supplies. Mike Castellano came over and looked visibly relieved to see that his top-billed gurgitator had made it after all. The show was ready to start.
We got our front row seats, nestled in between eaters' family and friends. The balloon animals and Saturday afternoon timing made the venue a perfect place for kids, and two of "Humble" Bob's were there wearing t-shirts featuring their dad's face and holding a sign that read "Humble Bob Shoudt is my Daddy." The Three Brother's marketing director's daughter turned out to be Steakbellie's biggest fan; she was having trouble containing her excitement as she hovered near the foot of the stage, getting his attention and making the thumbs up sign to him over and over. All the kids were thrilled to watch their parents on stage. We sat next to Chip Simpson's girlfriend, Katie, who was also there to cheer on her favorite eater. They started dating before he started competitive eating, and she said it has been fun to watch him excel at it. We asked if he ever tries to get her to compete and she laughed and said he does. She doesn't see herself in any contests anytime soon, but conceded that she might consider it if sushi or fat-free frozen yogurt were involved.
Castellano took to the stage and began the introductions. As always, they were entertaining and Mike did a good job as emcee. As the competitors were announced we saw the usual preparations: Steakbellie rubbed his jaws, eaters shook hands and arranged their drinks, and Mike began the countdown, trying his hardest to get the crowd revved up. Chip and Pat were both frantically trying to cue up playlists on their iPods and it looked for a second they might miss the buzzer. But the contest began, and if Pat missed a few moments, it was only seconds before he had his lead on the other eaters. At the 2-minute mark Pat had downed one whole pie and was reaching for his next. At around 5 minutes some of the newer eaters started to look panicked. The crowd, most of whom had never witnessed such a spectacle, stood silent, mouths agape, when Mike gave them instructions to cheer on the eaters. The crowd complied and the eaters began the home stretch.
At 10 minutes Mike called for the eaters to stop. With relief the eaters stuffed the remaining pizza in their mouths and stand up and away from the table. Though this isn't always standard at competitions, the eaters were given one minute to finish what was in their mouths. They were then asked to wait in the wings as the tedious process of counting the pizza began.
Some judges hovered over the slices, and after a few minutes, Mike announced he had the winners. In 4th place: Pat from Moonachie with 11 slices! This seemed a great victory for Pat P., though the 4th place total seemed low. Did this mean Juliet would have tied for 4th in the pro contest? Pat smiles and walks to the stage for photos and a plaque. 3rd place was announced as going to "Big" Brian Subich with 12 slices. And that's when the competitors in the back start to look at each other in confusion. Larry McNeil was sure he ate more than that and so were more than a few other people, which would mean there was a problem. Chip hopped on stage and pulled Mike and a Three Brothers Rep over to him. After some pointing and further counting Mike headed to the mic and sadly announced there was a mistake.
"Ladies and gentleman, I do apologize. Pat, Brian...I'm sorry guys. We didn’t get the right numbers. I misread it. I apologize upfront; I'm sorry guys, but I don't think you're in the runnings. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Poor Pat and Brian returned the plaques and the crowd booed loudly to the sight of Pat leaving the stage all hangdog. Mike, clearly embarrassed, took the blame, "Boo me guys, it's entirely my fault. I'm sorry about that. We got a recount. A false alarm, a synaptic misfiring on my part."
The actual awards went to Larry McNeil with 13 slices, Humble Bob with 15, Chip Simpson with 17 and Pat Bertoletti winning the big prize of $2,500 with 19 slices. Pat bounded to the stage to pick up his giant check and held his trophy aloft.
After the competition, Pat from Moonachie decided to paint a giant L (for loser) on his forehead to further humiliate himself and make sure no one would mistake him for a winner for the rest of the day--or at least until the paint wore off. Pat Bertoletti signed autographs and the rest of the competitors sat around and chatt about the contest, their sore jaws, the heat on the stage, and who was going to compete ribs.
It was a big weekend for competitive eating. Later that same afternoon, a different set of top eaters were competing in a horseshoe competition (two pieces of toast topped with ham, French fries and cheese sauce) in Illinois, and the next day many of the eaters from both competitions were heading to Connecticut for another rib contest. Pat was ducking out of these events, though, to visit the LeFevres in Las Vegas and eat at the famed Aladdin buffet. He had a practice run planned for Sunday, before doing the whole thing for a television spot on "Attack of the Show." This meant he was staying the night in the area, but with no eating buddies to hang out with. It turned out Dave and his girlfriend, Heather, were staying in the area that night, too, so we rounded them up (Dave, Heather, Pat, the giant check and the three-foot trophy) and took them to a birthday party we were due at in DC.
Bringing competitive eaters to a party is way better entertainment than, say, a clown. Pat ("The pizza guy!") was quickly the hit of the evening and he and Dave spent the night answering all the curious questions that popped up during a lull. Pat's cell phone buzzed all night as he got calls in from other eaters, congratulating him and giving him results on other competitions. Though he's enjoying the fame and the crowds, he said he's not sure how long he'll stick with the sport. It's hard for him to see a long-term future with competitive eating, but at the same time he appreciates his time on top. Signing autographs is a novelty, plus it's just plain fun to wander around with a giant check. This giant check is only the second he's received, but he says nothing beats going through airport security with it; there's always a lot of good conversations born of a giant check.
Though we learned it can work against you, too. At the hotel later, the women behind the reservation desk were all excited when they caught sight of the trophy and were duly impressed with the amazing 19-slice feat. But when we tried to sweet talk them into cutting Pat a deal for a room, they balked. "I don't think we can," one of them said, taking in Pat's winnings, " But it looks like he can afford it."
Full set of pics here!
When you think of the word "beautiful," what comes to mind? A hot girl sunbathing on the bleached sands of Maui? Or perhaps a snow-capped vista and the clear blue rivers of Switzerland? You know what we think of? A big guy with a Brooklyn accent, a large stomach capacity, an Internet connection, and a lot on his mind.
Those new to the sport of competitive eating probably know "Beautiful" Brian Seiken mostly through his writing. He updates his website, beautifulbrian.com, weekly and is a regular commenter on the popular fan blog eatfeats.com (formerly trencherwomen.com, notorious for inspiring long exchanges of heated comments among the eaters). And those who have never met the 46-year-old eater, might assume that the somewhat volatile, trash-talking image he projects is what he's all about. But when one meets him in person, it's not long before a more sensitive side emerges. That's not to say Beautiful Brian is all bunny rabbits and rainbows, but what's revealed is a man with a tender spot for competitive eating--a sport he witnessed the inception of, and one he's afraid is leaving him behind.
Beautiful Brian was the first competitive eater we ever met. It was December 2005, just prior to the IFOCE Carmine's meatball competition in Atlantic City. We were nervous, not knowing what to expect from the eaters or the event. But it wasn't long before Beautiful Brian came over, shook our hands, and introduced himself and Kevin Lipsitz as the vying pickle champions. That competition proved to be a pivotal moment in what would soon be a future full of eating contests for us, and Brian has been a constant throughout. Over the past year, he has always been quick to email us updates or gossip, or the occasional complaint peppered with compliments.
So, late July, we met up with Brian for lunch at the original Junior's restaurant in Brooklyn. We figured a little authentic diner food and some famous cheesecake would be the perfect background for Brian's stories, and we weren't wrong. Brian was there when we arrived, standing out of the rain in the restaurant's breezeway, wearing a blue IFOCE t-shirt and supporting baseball hat. He greeted us warmly and we stood around for a few minutes inside while waiting for a table. "Looking at all this food really gets me thinking about competing," he said, casting a hungry glance at the shelves full of glistening pies and decadent cheesecakes. Competing with food is never far from his mind; Brian says every time he's eating a food, a part of his brain can't help wondering how fast the food would go in a competition.
It was clear Brian was eager to be interviewed, but nervous about how he might be portrayed in print. He noted that he enjoyed reading Eat This Book author Ryan Nerz's omitted chapter about him, but said it hurt him when Nerz referred to him as "disheveled" (his memory omitting the "pleasantly" that qualified Nerz's passing description). "I mean, did he have to write that?"
This may strike you, as it did us, as a tad overly sensitive. After all, this is the guy who has a website dedicated to fueling the fire of ongoing controversies and airing grievances; no one's ever said Brian doesn't like a little trouble. A recent entry on his website entitled, "The new kids show no respect" debates whether some of the younger eaters might have used older eaters for eating tips and then "dumped" them. Pretty strong words, but it turns out this tough-guy persona is only good in writing. In person, Brian is as quick to dole out compliments as he is criticisms (usually following the latter with the former), going over a situation several times from different perspectives, and underlining it all with gently self-deprecating humor.
The service at Junior's was excruciatingly slow that day, and we didn't get the pickles that usually adorn the tables. Being that pickles are one of Brian's triumphs, it didn't seem right that we wouldn't have any, so we requested them…several times. Eventually our food came (Brian: corned beef and pastrami, Krista: tuna melt, Liz: grilled cheese), and we finally got the harried waiter to bring over some pickles. He set the dish down and Brian slid it over by his plate, "And one for the table, too!"
We all dug in as Brian reminisced about his foray into competitive eating.
His first competition was a Nathan's qualifier in 1997. His sister Kara told him about it and he went because it seemed like fun and he liked Nathan's hot dogs. Though he only finished with 8.5 hot dogs, there was something in the excitement of the event and the eaters that piqued his interest. He says he mentioned to George Shea that he should start some sort of club for the eaters, to which Shea apparently replied: "I'm just a PR guy for Nathans; I'm not really into this stuff." Brian swears that exchange took place, but readily admits that Shea certainly wouldn't remember it. But in any case, that was the year the IFOCE was born.
Brian remembers these early years of the IFOCE as being particularly fun. George called him up the year after his first competition and asked him to come eat at another Nathan's qualifier, making him feel like he'd somehow impressed the Sheas with his presence the year before. He recalled how excited they were to have Don Lerman, known for his matzoh ball eating, join them and become the first "marquee eater."
"The contracts back then were beautiful," Brian said, referring to the forms the eaters have to sign when participating in IFOCE events. "You could do anything you wanted to." The Sheas had what Brian called a "little crew" of eaters that they were slowly building up, including Mike DeVito, Charles Hardy, Ed Jarvis, Kevin Lipsitz and Eric Booker, among others. He liked the people and was having fun. He had some successes, winning the pickle championship title in 2002, giving a good show in matzoh balls, but these were often followed by defeats: the pickle title was taken from him by Jarvis in what he thought was an unfair contest the following year; he never made it to the Nathan's finals. What he thought was going to be a promising career in competitive eating was turning out to be a bit of a bust. He was feeling frustrated with having to eat loads of food and never winning. So when Eric Booker suggested he start a website, Brian was intrigued. Booker told him he could get his feelings out and bare his frustrations online. With Eric's help, he started beautifulbrian.com, and suddenly he felt like something of his spirit had been restored.
"With the website, I felt like I had to impress." He worked hard on it, trying to update it at least weekly with little articles, thoughts on contests and other competitive eaters. He'd get his information firsthand, or from informants who would call to chat. "Ed Jarvis was really my knight in shining armor," Brian said, referring to the amount of gossip Cookie was good for. Brian would feature the eater on the site in exchange for the more juicy bits that Jarvis came across. The site began getting about 250 hits a day, and he gained some respectability among the Shea brothers who were working hard to promote the IFOCE and sponsors' events. In his eyes, Brian went from being an eater who was overlooked, to one the Sheas began to promote, all because of the website. The website was mentioned at competitions and he thinks it helped get him into a chicken nugget exhibition with Sonya Thomas and Tim Janus.
But along with his fame for his fun, tabloid-esque writing, came the criticisms. He remembers fellow competitive eater and friend, Kevin Lipsitz, warning him that the website was "going to make him a lot of friends and a lot of enemies." Ironically, it would be Kevin that he would make angry with some biting remarks and Dave "Coondog" O'Karma and he almost came to blows over some things Dave wanted edited out of a post about him. Brian became reflective about those moments. "Coondog is a good guy. He's down to earth. And now that I think about it, I probably wrote some things I shouldn't have." He took small bites of his corned beef and pastrami sandwich, "Words like that don't sound like much, but they can hurt."
Brian wants to continue writing, but he says it's hard to compete with eatfeats.com, which Brian said he helped discover and assisted in spreading the word about by linking it to his own website. ("It was like I hired [OJ Rifkin] and he was doing his job!") However, he's been taking some time off lately to focus on new things. Mainly his upcoming 28th Canarsie High School Reunion in August. He's been having fun thinking back to his younger days where he says he spent his time playing on the champion basketball team and dancing at Studio 54. He thinks if he went, he would get a lot of attention from former classmates for his eating career. Laughing he said, "I'd probably be the light of the freakin' thing. That's how pathetic it is!"
Brian is more multifaceted than some would assume. Over slabs of famous Junior's cheesecake, he tells us that he runs four miles a day, likes to fish, and collects sports videos and rare movies ("No porn!" as he is quick to point out) to resell on eBay - his favorite movie is Rocky IV. He doesn't own a dog like Don Lerman, but he does have a cat "to keep the mice away." He's made some great acquaintances in the eating world; he and Allen Goldstein are good friends and they like to kid each other a lot about their eating careers. He said he's met so many interesting people he had to put old friends on the back burner to make more room for his eating friends.
Brian is impressed with the younger eaters, though he believes that with every new champion that emerges, he slips further from the minds of the IFOCE and the public. "If it wasn't for the website, I'd just be another Joe off the street," he said. But he's not ready to throw the towel in yet. Inspired by Joey Chestnut's recent triumphs and his new technique, described by Brian as resembling a conveyor belt heading into a juice machine, he would like to try out some new things. "Joey Chestnut doesn't chew," Brian said, looking contemplative. "I'm going to try that next time." Like other eaters who may buy into the "belt of fat" theory, Brian is trying to drop some weight. "I'd have to drop 85 pounds to be where I want to be. But not too much weight. Once I weighed 230 and I looked almost anorexic at that weight."
As he discussed on his website, he wishes there were more communication between him and the younger eaters. In fact, he wishes there were more communication in general between the IFOCE and all the eaters. Asked if he could change anything about the organization, he answered, "Just that they'd take care of each and every eater, so no one felt unwanted."
He has a part-time girlfriend Shona; part-time because she refuses to come to his cramped apartment, so all of their interaction happens at her place or out on the town. He was married briefly out of high school, but as young love is apt to do, it fizzled quickly. He pays the bills by working as a postal worker and seems pretty content with his life. He's got a lady friend, a close family, good friends, and a hobby that gets him some occasional publicity.
As for the future of the website, he's not sure what will happen, but he will continue to write for now. "One thing is for sure," he says laughing, "No one should take anything I say personally." He loves debate, whether it is about him or coming from him, "That's what makes it so beautiful, everyone is different." When asked what he was going to do after he left Junior's he said, "Tonight I'm gonna go home, relax, and go on the website and figure out how to entertain people."
