Remind Us Again Why We Care?

The Brooklyn Paper’s Gersh Kuntzman explains that the controversy behind Takeru Kobayashi’s record-setting hot dog scarfing is much ado about nothing — and, as Kobayashi’s official judge, he knows of what he speaks (warning: do not read within four hours of eating):

For the past six years, I have served as Kobayashi’s judge and, as such, have had a spittle-and-bun-covered front-row seat to history. Over those six years, I’ve had a chance to watch the greatest athlete in modern history crush all comers. For five of those years, Kobayashi’s closest competitor didn’t even come within a dozen hot dogs and buns (HDBs in competitive eating circles).

I may think Kobayashi is the greatest competitor since Secretariat, but I’m no pushover. In 2001, when this calf-brain-eating champion from Japan burst onto the American scene with his amazing 50 HDB victory, I made him stuff a quarter hot-dog back into his mouth when it fell onto the table. In 2003, I noticed he was dunking his buns into his cup of water more than usual, so I made him slurp up the water-logged carbs. And last year, when a sneeze late in the competition sent a stream of chewed-up hot-dog out his nose, I made him snort it back in.

That he did it without flinching, without questioning, showed what a true champion he is.

Controversy is as inseparable from the competition to be greatest eater in the world as hot dog is from bun. But with 10,000 spectators packing the corner of Surf and Stillwell avenues — and with almost as many camera crews from New York, San Jose and Japan on hand — I knew I had to be at the top of my game.

I watched Kobayashi like a mother cow watching her calf’s brain. He ate his game — not worrying, even when Chestnut jumped out to a two-dog lead. He passed Chestnut for good around the nine-minute mark, but I watched with even greater intensity, knowing that this was the only time Kobayashi had ever been pushed.

And then, the belch.

Yes, Kobayashi burped and, yes, the force of the belch propelled parts of four chewed-up hot dogs from his mouth. But, ever the champion, Kobayashi caught it all in his hand — and some in his water cup — and pushed it all back in.

. . .

As the late Johnny Cochran might have said: Kobayashi caught his regurgitate and didn’t hesitate. Yes, bits of hot dog did remain in his cup at the end of the competition — so I docked him a quarter-dog, making the new world record 53-3/4 instead of 54.

From where I sat, there was no controversy: Kobayashi had stared defeat in the face and pushed it right back into his own jaws of victory.

Backstory: Trying To Convince Your Body To Dance It All Down.