ESPN's salivating at chance to air glorified gluttony

Thursday, August 4, 2005 9:26 AM PDT

By Rick S. Alvord

To borrow a phrase from the great Soviet comedian Yakov Smirnov, "What a country!"

Here, almost anything is considered a sport. And no, this isn't another rant about figure skating, although if you're interested in making my spleen explode, force me to watch replays of Michelle Kwan performing a triple-whatever "lutz" while grinning like a prom queen.

Once, while surfing the expansive pastures of ESPN during a bout of insomnia, I discovered grown men sitting in miniature sailboats cruising around floating traffic cones in a swimming pool. A massive industrial fan provided the air power.

My only thought at 3:30 a.m.?

What does it say about our country when we're creating sports that combine the thrill of yachting with lap swimming at the YMCA?

But that was SO 2002!

Today, one of the hippest and coolest "sporting events" making the rounds on network television is (go ahead and swallow that morning coffee now before you spew it all over this page) ... professional competitive eating.

Say it with me: PROFESSIONAL COMPETITIVE EATING.

Maybe you've seen it. Maybe you've stumbled upon it thinking you were tuned in to the Hillbilly Channel and a replay of last year's county fair pie-eating contest.

Wrong. It was ESPN and grown adults were devouring grub like prize hogs for glory and a few bucks.

It used to be that Australian Rules Football was the stupidest thing on ESPN. Now it's somebody named Ed "Cookie" Jarvis, a real estate agent from New York, shoveling five pounds of corned beef and cabbage down his gullet in 10 minutes to retain his belt.

And what a belt it is. Cookie stands 6 feet, 6 inches and weighs 409 pounds.

When this finely-tuned professional athlete was asked by a reporter about his sport, Cookie responded: "They wouldn't put it on ESPN if it wasn't a sport."

Cookie holds 11 world eating records, one of which may or may not involve sweating mayonnaise.

The pro eating circuit features 70 stops across the nation, the majority of them in the Midwest near Chicago and Milwaukee, where one of the five basic food groups includes barbecued bratwurst.

Championship titles are up for grabs in various divisions, including chicken wings, chili, cannoli and spaghetti (hold the garlic bread), meatballs, watermelon, hot dogs and cheesecake.

Winners can receive up to $2,500 for first place, at least half of which is spent on Rolaids and stomach pumps.

One of the major sponsors on the pro eating circuit is ---- no, this isn't a joke ---- Alka Seltzer.

Plop-plop, fizz-fizz, oh what a sport it is!

Two brothers from Manhattan, who once handled promotions for the world-famous Nathan's Fourth of July Hot-Dog Eating Contest, formed the International Federation for Competitive Eating eight years ago.

That was 1997. This week, the top pro eaters in America are gathered in San Diego for the first stop on the GoldenPalace.com World Grilled Cheese Eating Tour.

So if you think you've got what it takes to chow down more grilled-cheese sandwiches than the fat guy sitting next to you, then by all means turn pro and earn some spending money.

Last week, Takeru Kobayashi of Japan won the Alka-Seltzer U.S. Open of Competitive Eating to earn $10,000 and the coveted Alka-Seltzer Cup, which he promptly turned into a barf bag.

OK, I made up that part.

But after three days of eating, all of it filmed by ESPN, wouldn't you expect a puny 132-pound man ---- whose personal record for consuming cow brains is 17.7 pounds in 15 minutes ---- to, well, "make a little room?"

Oh, how far we've come.

So where do we draw the line? Or do we even bother with lines?

Why don't we just televise people cleaning out their cat's litter box? The fastest and cleanest scooper takes home the gold.

Or how 'bout knitting? This way, even 78-year-old women with arthritis can call themselves athletes by stitching a turtleneck in 14 minutes, and ESPN will have something to air at 3:30 a.m. after the cannoli-eating contest.

As for this professional eating league, how will the brothers who run it assure eating fans that all of the athletes are "clean" and free of performance-enhancing drugs?

Let's HOPE that little Japanese dude never goes Rafael Palmeiro and bulks up just to pad his numbers.

And let's say this league turns out to be at least as popular as televised poker, which already consumes a large chunk of ESPN's air time. How long would it be before somebody attempts to make eating an Olympic sport?

If it ever gets that far, the United States would surely contend for gold in every event that little Japanese dude doesn't enter.

How long will it be until there are professional eater trading cards, complete with the favorite lasagna recipe of each athlete on the back?

Entertainment has long been crossing over into the athletic world, much the way a drunk driver crosses into your lane on his way home from the bar.

Sooner or later, there's going to be an ugly collision.

If it gets any uglier than professional eating, we're in deep trouble.

You know, Yakov Smirnov never was that funny.

Rick S. Alvord is sports editor of The Daily News. He can be reached at ralvord@tdn.com or 577-2527.