Stepping up to chow down

If fame only cost $5, would you buy it? I would certainly lay down a Lincoln for it.

Coincidence or not, this year's National Buffalo Wing Festival held its fifth annual gorging at Dunn Tire Park this Labor Day weekend in downtown Buffalo. Entrance fee: $5.

Although the events were limited by the rain and the food tents were corralled around the outfield's warning track, Tropical Storm whatever, Ernesto, could not dampen the mood. With the amount of chicken wings being consumed - about five a second - how could you not be happy?

I purposefully went hungry, limiting breakfast to only two bowls of Cookie Crisp, so as to sample every wing and leg in every concoction. This year, 25 vendors served up the sweet meat lathered in a variety of juices, from Hooters, a national chain, to the Anchor Bar, a local proprietor and originator of the wing.

Half the fun at these festivals, however, is not necessarily how much you eat, but rather watching others compete. The most entertaining competitions at the Wing Festival last year were the Buffalo Buffet Bowl - won by Ed "Cookie" Jarvis - and the Buffalo Chicken Wing Eating Championship - won by Eric "Badlands" Booker - who ate an amazing 148 wings in 12 minutes.

But with Eric's early departure from competitive eating (he retired this year to pursue a career in music) and last year's Buffalo Buffet Bowl winner not in attendance, the International Federation of Competitive Eating (IFOCE) was two people shy of their 12-eater roster. They summoned the crowd, asking for anyone interested to participate. Reluctantly, having just eaten my fill, I volunteered my body.

The show must go on.

Now eating - like gambling - is a serious business. And famous people from around the globe come to these sanctioned events for the purse, easily taking home thousands of dollars. They are all ranked and each one has their specialty, be it corn on the cob, baked beans, Krystal Burgers, or those little things you put on salads.

Anyway, before I got on stage, the event coordinator stopped me and quickly went over a waiver saying they would not be responsible for any sudden death or whatever tragedy might occur. He flipped it over before I could read it and said, "Just sign here. There is a medic up there."

The coordinator marched all the eaters onto the stage and lined us in front of trays, each containing an equal amount of food native to Buffalo. There were three full beef on wecks (roast beef sandwiches on kummelweck rolls) smothered in gravy, about eight hot chicken fingers, a half dozen pierogies and around 25 chicken wings. The challenge: to eat all five pounds as fast as you can.

I felt an enormous pressure to do well. Not only was I representing the city of Buffalo, but also the UB. I was a symbol of our school, and like John B. Simpson at an official function, it was my goal not to throw up all over myself or the people around me.

I was in over my head to begin with. The guys on each side of me had a strategy, which I could not compete with. I watched in a jealous rage as they double fisted the wings and swallowed whole sandwiches. The winner, a man by the name of Humble Bob who already has amassed a small fortune this year, ate his meal slightly under one pound a minute.

It was very embarrassing. I lost my chance at stardom and I felt like I let UB down. I did not want to speak to anyone after, kind of like an angry Sean Penn batting away the paparazzi. So I quietly walked out of the park gates in the chilly rain with my free sample of ice cream.