Are these the bizarre rules of a very strict gym? Oh no, these are the rules for a very different type of athlete. That's right - Major League Eating. The most recent event was just two miles down the road at the Harrod Pork Rind Festival. My apologies for the fuzzy pictures. Really, it is not grease from snacking on pork rinds.
Never does the Pork Rind Festival get the due it deserves. I mean, twenty years of pork rinds, made three miles from Harrod (why is it not in that town? I do not know, but it's probably pork politics), and never has it been featured on any Travel Channel show. But this year was different. This year, they had a competitive eating event for pork rinds. And the competition was fierce. Some "ranked eaters" (you heard me) found their way to Harrod to compete to be the first ever Pork Rind Eating Champion.
Unfortunately, one competitor experienced a break-down (apparently of the vehiclular kind, not mental, but who knows, maybe he ate his first pork rind and cancelled). So, Mr. Keating from NYC, the emcee and time waster from MLE (Major Leage Eating), asked the crowd if anyone would like to fill the spot. Oh my, I nearly jumped out of my seat! Suddenly, I wanted to be on stage with the 350 pound man who brought his own cooler and dipping sauce. At this moment, I'm still not sure if it was the fear of making a poor showing or discovering that my secret talent is indeed competitive eating (long suspected).
Below, the judges are being "deputized." I kid you not. They held up their hands and everything. Secretly, I too held up my hand and recited the pledge, so I'm all set.
Pat and I picked our horses, I mean "gurgitators" (not my word, it's from MLE). Pat's pick came in first, mine second, and the walk-on took home an impressive third (good thing I remained in my seat).
Maybe now the lowly Pork Rind Festival will get some respect.
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