Tina Fineberg, Associated Press The trick to the turkey-eating contest is to skip any plans for chewing.

By Dan Majors, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Slippery Rock University can add another winner to its esteemed list of sports champions: Chip Simpson, turkey eater.

Actually, Mr. Simpson, 24, of Harrisville, Butler County, finished third in the fifth-annual GoldenPalace.com Thanksgiving Invitational turkey-eating contest yesterday at Artie's Delicatessen on Broadway in New York City. But that's saying a mouthful.

	Tina Fineberg, Associated Press Above: Chip Simpson of Harrisville. Below: Winner Sonya Thomas holds her award.

A competitive eater for only six weeks, Mr. Simpson is already going up against some of the greatest gobblers in the nation.

He started out with wing-eating contests near the Slippery Rock campus, where he's studying physical therapy. Now, he's rubbing elbows with world-class eaters such as Sonya Thomas of Alexandria, Va., and Joey Chestnut of San Jose, Calif.

Yesterday's event featured eight eaters, using only their hands, with 12 minutes to consume as much of a roasted 10-pound turkey as they could. (Gravy was optional.)

The winner, Ms. Thomas, 37, was the only one able to finish her bird. Mr. Chestnut, 21, finished second.

"I stumbled a little bit," Mr. Simpson said of his third-place finish. "Sonya and Joey are the two- and three-ranked eaters in the world. Just placing in the top three with them is an honor."

Mr. Simpson has competed in five eating contests in the past six weeks: Birmingham, Ala., (hamburgers); Bethesda., Md., (wings); Boston (wings); Chattanooga, Tenn., (hamburgers); and yesterday (turkey). He finished first in Birmingham, but didn't fare so well in the others.

"I kind of choked ... literally," he said.

For yesterday's effort, he received a trophy in the shape of a baking pan and a check for $750. And something to brag about the next time he visits Pittsburgh.

"I mainly come in for the sushi," he said.

A growing sport

Another Pennsylvanian, Bob Shoudt, 39, of Royersford, near Philadelphia, finished fifth.

"It was tougher than I thought it was going to be," he said. "After I got through with the breasts, I had trouble finding the meat."

Mr. Shoudt, a computer consultant who once worked at Station Square, began eating competitively four years ago after seeing the famous Nathan's hot dog-eating contest on television and thinking, "I can do that."

He couldn't. Despite his 6-foot-2, 330-pound frame, he couldn't make it past regional qualifying events.

"I thought I could do it because it looked pretty easy," he said. "Everybody can eat a lot in their own mind. Until you actually get up there on that stage, when you can eat a lot with the big boys, that's something else.

"I don't necessarily mean big boys," he added, "because a lot of small women do very well in this. Size is kind of irrelevant. The size of your stomach and strength of your mind are the important things.

"I'm one of the few big guys left in the sport," said Mr. Shoudt, who was a cross-country runner at Ursinus College in Collegeville, Pa. "It's going more to the athletic types nowadays."

To the eating competitors, the organizers and the sponsors, it is a sport.

"We're presenting an entertainment product, like all sports are," said Richard Shea, 36, the president of the International Federation of Competitive Eating (www.ifoce.com). He and his brother, George, 41, the chairman and CEO, started the organization seven years ago as an offshoot of their New York-based public relations company.

"This year we had four hours of programming on ESPN," Richard Shea said, "including the live hour of the hot dog-eating contest on the Fourth of July. We anticipate more in '06."

The federation has hosted competitions all across the country and throughout Pennsylvania, including a Buffalo wing event a few years ago at Quaker Steak and Lube in Pittsburgh. They've also shoveled shoo-fly pie in Lancaster, apple dumplings at the Sykesville Fair, and any number of menu items in Philadelphia.

No pierogies yet, but Mr. Shea said, "We might put that on our plate for next year."

It wouldn't be surprising. The federation has sanctioned contests for foods ranging from bologna and birthday cake to cannolis and cow brains. Regional events have included matzo balls, jambalaya, burritos and Maine lobsters. Even pickled beef tongue and Spam.

Mr. Shoudt said he isn't put off by what's on the menu. It's all part of the competition. Besides, he said, "You don't really enjoy the food. You really can't be thinking whether it tastes good or not."

Which is how he can rationalize taking part in a turkey-eating contest even though he and his family have been "really strict vegetarians" for years.

"Now, I'm eating meat in huge quantities on the weekends, so it's hard for me to really call myself a vegetarian," he said. "But I only eat meat in these competitions."

Table manners

There are tricks to the trade, the foremost being: Don't chew. The competitors use their hands to rip off mouth-sized pieces of food that can be swallowed whole as fast as they can. The rules permit the athletes to dunk the food in water, which helps it slide down.

Most of the events are timed races rather than endurance marathons, Mr. Shea said. There is always an emergency medical technician on hand to ensure that no one is hurt. And the federation always warns people against trying this at home or in a restaurant.

"We're a responsible organization," he said. "We archive our results and take it quite seriously in order to maintain the sport's integrity."

Mr. Shoudt said a bit of indigestion is the only injury he's encountered so far.

But he wouldn't give it up for anything.

"I've had a lot of fun and moderate amount of success," he said. "There's a lot of camaraderie, and [my family and I] have gotten to see a lot of the country" at events from Seattle and Las Vegas to New Orleans and Boston. He's reached a level in the sport where the event sponsors are picking up his travel expenses.

There's also the fame. People recognizing the competitors, asking for their autographs and posing with them for pictures.

And prize money. Last weekend, he pulled in $1,250 for pounding down 51 Krystal hamburgers in eight minutes in Chattanooga, Tenn. (That was fourth-place money.) "So I'm doing OK," he said.

One of the obstacles facing the sport of competitive eating, however, is the perception that they are more than just gluttons for punishment. These guys are real gluttons.

It's a label that Mr. Shea says he does his best to battle.

"We don't celebrate gluttony," he said of the competitors they call "gurgitators."

"A lot of people talk about the waste in society, and there's so many people starving to death," Mr. Shoudt said. "But it's a sport, it's entertainment."

What's more, he said, the competitions generate money and attention that benefit local food banks. Yesterday, they donated dozens of turkeys. The federation, its sponsors and even the competitors have contributed almost $30,000 for Katrina relief and similar causes.

They still host the annual Nathan's hot dog-eating contest at Coney Island -- "It's our Augusta," Mr. Shea said -- but that was just the beginning.

"The public's appetite for this form of entertainment is growing," he said.

Mr. Shoudt has a collection of trophies, oversized checks and souvenirs picked up along the way. "Someday I'll make a scrapbook," he said, "because, to be honest with you, when I look back at it, it's going to be kind of hard to believe that I traveled the country as a professional speed eater.

"I'll find it humorous when I'm older."

Slippery Rock's Mr. Simpson, meanwhile, is just looking ahead to his next competition: the meatball-eating championship in New Jersey next weekend.

First, however, there is Thanksgiving. And in spite of yesterday's contest, he'll be having a traditional meal.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Gotta have turkey."