Now, I have accepted that hitting a small, stitched ball with a long stick is an enviable skill. I also honestly find it impressive that people can zoom around on ice skates and manipulate a little disk with what looks like a bent spatula. I even grasp that it can be fun to watch one large man with padded shoulders and knees knock over another large man in similar dress of different colors.

But competitive eating?? What’s up with that?

How have we come to value sticking an entire hot dog down one’s throat without choking?

This is probably the first, last and only time you will see me write about sports. I am writing about it because this has to do with food—something I believe should be appreciated slowly and gently—and because I really am baffled.

When this happens, I always try my darndest to argue the other side. So here goes: I suppose we all love a hero, and we found that hero in Takeru Kobayashi–even if he earned that status by eating processed meat faster than anyone else. He also devoured matzo balls at a superlative pace at one point, so I should give a little shout out to him for his chutzpah. But just one shout. That’s it! My reticence prevails.

Now it appears that Kobayashi is having some issues. Can’t say I feel too bad for the guy. But I guess everyone wants to succeed at the thing they’ve set their mind to.

We shall see what happens next week at the annual contest.

So that’s my bit on sports. Tune in again soon for discussion of something more palatable… or maybe not quite palatable (yet) like epazote.  I really want to get into that stuff, but my first taste of it left me looking like I’d just watched the entire 12 minutes of a certain Nathan’s-sponsored stunt. We shall see, my friends.