Wing Bowl XV: Part III: El Wingador, Franks and Me

Inspired by my achievement at the chicken cheesesteak contest, I decided to try again for Wing Bowl. Besides, now I get Wing Bowl. Really, that Slack's was crowded for such a small place, and for me it was akin to being in a band playing a small but packed club. And between watching Chuck Roast get a case of the nerves, Hungry Jack's obviously near-vomitous state, what with his sweating face and bulging eyes, and Frank just run away with it all and torture Jack at the end, I have to say, it was quite an experience. But now I'm hungry: I want a float, I want Wingettes, I want to win that car, I want in, I want to be in Wing Bowl, god-effing-dammit!

There is another contest. This one is a Wing Off, held at Dempster's in Mt. Holly, NJ. It's a different scene than the Slack's though. More of an Eagles pep rally as they prepare for the divisional title game against the New Orleans Saints. Plus, anyone can walk in and register, no pre-qualification necessary. Plus, there are a ton of hot New Jersey chicks, as Dempster's had their own Wingette competition a few weeks earlier. Plus there are girls from Coor's Light and Jack Daniels wearing halter-tops and acid wash. I mean, who knew? Halter-tops and acid wash—I had thought that those particular styles had gone the way of the flannel shirt, Wranglers and the tie-dye, but, then again, all of those were also on display that night as well. Note to self: submit slogan for NJ auto tags next time they run a contest: "New Jersey -- Where Bad Fashion Never Dies."

So, instead of a race between all competitors, they only allowed eight of us to eat at a time. And with 40 contestants plus 10 minutes per heat plus down-time between heats, it took a bit longer than I expected. I'm not complaining, it was just different than the Slack's competition. Anyway, when it was my turn to eat, I did pretty good in the Wing Off -- by my count, 53 in 10 minutes, yet not well enough to win a spot at the big dance, or even take third. Winner did 63, second 60, third 57 all in the 10 minute time allotment. I placed somewhere tied for fourth.

Note to co-host Hugh Douglas: At one point during the competition, you said, "Looks like we should buy Smarty a new hat." Lemme tell you dude: that hat is all about food & luck. While wearing that hat, I've made approximately 3,000 whole-cooked turkeys, 1,000 baked hams and an enumerable amount of Schmitters. Seriously, when you get into tonnage, why count?

Thus my D-Troit Tiger's hat. Part o' me, that's all. I began thinking about retirement the next day, but that's mainly 'cause my tummy was cement-mixer upset and my bum was fairly raw. Plus there was a mucus attack at 3 a.m., which I believe was a direct result of an overdose of Louisiana Hot Sauce. But, no official announcement as of yet. I was, however, very encouraged by El Wingador, who both offered me a ton of advice as I was cramming wings down my gullet, things like, "Less water! Clean them bones Smarty!" and afterwards told me that I "really showed a lot of heart for a little guy," a sentiment I shall cherish always. I mean, c'mon, I'm 5'9" 175 lbs. I'm in a different weight class (other than the Black Widow) altogether than these people. I didn't tell El Wingador that I nearly puked twice, once around wing number 30 and again around wing number 45, but instead told myself, "Be a man, this is for a new car!" and choked it down. I suspect El Wingador knew anyway, as he is a seasoned professional and five time Wing Bowl Champion, and has seen this type of thing once or twice before.

Frank DeFraud, who bested me in the previous event, was kind enough to both act as my main cheerleader (C'mon Smarty, don't think about it! Eat!) and take several pictures of me with a clown-like amount of hot sauce on my face, stuffing myself silly and hanging with ex-Eagle Hugh Douglas. See above photos. Always a winner, however, I won two more tickets at the raffle to the big dance, but promptly sold them to a great guy that I met, Frank "Empty Plate" D. and his buddy from Gettysburg College, for $20 as I needed gas and toll money to get home.

So, who knows? Maybe I'll retire, maybe I'll just put myself out to stud.

Next stop: Another Wing Off at the Trappe Tavern in Collegeville Thursday night, 1/18/2007. If not as a contestant than I will be there as a spectator, if only to root for Empty Plate.