Barry Tompkins: It’s competitive, but is it a sport?
Question to self: “When is a sport not a sport?”
Self: “When it involves eating or wearing a costume.”
Self to Self: “Start writing. You’ve got the makings of a really dumb column here.”
I’m pretty certain this is the same thought process that F. Scott Fitzgerald had when he sat down to write ‘The Great Gatsby’.
Let me begin this soon-to-be Pulitzer Prize loser by addressing the great Joey Chestnut.
On July 4, Joey did it again. He won the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest for the 16th time by inhaling 62 dogs in 10 minutes. I’m not a math guy – but that’s roughly a dog every 10 seconds. Let me put it another way. By the time I finish this paragraph, Joey Chestnut would have eaten six hot dogs.
And, lest you think anyone can jump up on that Coney Island stage and try to challenge the great Joey Chestnut, let me assure you this takes years of lower level practice. I personally can attest to this.
A few years ago I was a guest on a TV show along with San Francisco Giants’ beat writer Susan Slusser – and Joey Chestnut. We were challenged to defend ourselves against Joey in an ice cream sandwich eating contest. Susan beat me – she ate three. I managed two. Joey ate 35,000. At least that’s what it looked like to us.
It’s all about practice.
Joey began his illustrious career by winning a fried asparagus eating contest shortly after he graduated from San Jose State. He ate 6.3-pounds in 11 minutes, and a career was born.
He’s also won national waffle eating, grilled cheese-eating, hamburger-eating and bratwurst-eating contests. There was the time in Texas when he ate a 72-ounce steak in 8 minutes and 52 seconds. First prize was a hat — and a year’s supply of Charmin.
And this week there has been the big debate. Is gulping down 62 hot dogs in 10 minutes a sport?
My answer is, if you can eat five-dozen hot dogs while facing a Camilo Duval fastball or a blitzing linebacker, a resounding YES. If not – it’s a pastime. A rather silly one, but none-the-less a pastime.
And wouldn’t you know it, the numbers prove me wrong.
The television ratings for this year’s Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest aren’t in yet. But based on last year’s numbers and last week’s sports TV ratings, Joey Chestnut’s gorging would have out-rated The Australian Grand Prix, the PGA Tour, the U.S. National Soccer team, the WNBA, and the U.S. National Swimming Championships. And would have had three times the audience of two baseball games on MLB Network.
Urp!
In equally absurd news…
Anyone who knows me knows my distinct distaste for team mascots.
It all started for me while on the floor doing the open of a basketball game at Kansas University when the Jayhawks mascot who glides around the court on roller skates, slammed into my color analyst like a cruise missile, and sent him right out of the camera shot and into the third row of the stands.
Mascots want the spotlight. And at any sporting event, they are omnipresent.
For instance, I hated the Oregon Duck. To begin with he would walk into every shot and disrupt whatever inanities I was babbling about with my on air partner. Moreover, he was taller than me and had a bigger head. I think that’s what gave me my life long obsession of eating Peking Duck.It was symbolic.
I don’t really dislike Oski, the Cal mascot, or the Stanford Tree. I just think they’ve been doing the same act since Oski was a cub and the Tree was a sapling. I want Oski to get rid of that insipid smile, and I want the Tree to be deciduous.
I bring all this up because I happened to see a story this week about professional mascots. And it made me think about a career change.
Consider this: Rocky, the mountain lion mascot of the NBA champion Denver Nuggets pulled down a cool $625,000 in salary this year. Mind you, this is what’s being paid to a person who dresses up like an animal with a bounty on them, poses for pictures with kids, and shoots tee-shirts into the stands with an air gun. I know this is a mere pittance compared to the players’ salaries, but try this one on: The average Denver Nuggets’ account executive makes $126,000 a year.
If you happen to love dress up and have an affinity for Mountain Lions, Hawks, Bulls or Gorillas, the NBA could be your future. In addition to Denver, teams in Atlanta, Chicago, and Phoenix all have mascots earning more than $400,000 a year.
Incidentally, the Warriors, to their great credit, do not have a mascot any longer. Their last, Thunder, was retired in 2008 back in the dog days of Warriors basketball, when a sharp young front office mind discovered that the mascot had the same name as a rival NBA team. He’s now an Account Executive with the Denver Nuggets.
Oddly enough, if you’re more inclined to enjoy dressing as a Dolphin, a Ram, or even a Cowboy, you’re out of luck. The average NFL mascot barely makes enough money to buy a season ticket – an average of only $65,000 per year.
I feel less antagonistic toward baseball mascots, though. To me, the Phillie Phanatic is truly entertaining. And funny to look at, too. And – OK I confess – I have a soft spot for Lou Seal.
The Phanatic, Lou Seal, and Mr. Met all are in the $200,000-a-year ballpark. The Green Monster, the Boston Red Sox mascot – who I must say I never heard of until researching this story – leads the league at $300,000.
And then there’s Stomper, the mascot of the Oakland A’s. Staying perfectly within the character of the team, Stomper is the lowest-paid mascot in baseball. There’s good news and bad news for Stomper though. I’m guessing he will not join the team in the move to Las Vegas – that’s too bad. But, I feel quite certain he’ll be the starting pitcher in at least one game this year. More bad news: Nobody will notice.
Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native. Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.