Four years ago I reported on a chicken-wing-eating competition I chanced upon at Grand Central Station. I had never seen professional gurgitators at work before; the best thing I can say about the experience was that it has helped me, in contemplating the great arc of civilization, to lower my expectations.
Like other sports, though, the eating circuit has its stars — its Federers and Mannings and Mickelsons — and they make a pretty good living, I think. (At the very least, they don’t go hungry.) But the honor and glory, it turns out, comes at a heavy price.
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One thing I’ll have to admit to. Reading Waka links makes for adventures.
http://wolf.ok.ac.kr/~annyg/english/song3.htm