Memoirs of America: Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest- Legend of a Jewish Athlete

by David Kilimnick

Preparing for competition. I wasn’t going to let being on a date stop me… You can see the focus on the food. A very important fundamental in competitive eating.

July 4th got me thinking about America and food. Waking up gets me thinking about food. Let’s talk about food. Other than Kiddish, nothing is more American than eating massive quantities of food as fast as you can. For that, I thank America.
It was right before I moved to Israel, that I had the honor of competing in the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest. Known to many as the Super Bowl of Eating, I always wanted to be a professional athlete. The one thing holding me back was my athletic abilities. Then I heard about Nathan’s contest, and I knew I had found my sport.
Here is the in-depth story, a very long story, an epic of passion, my story of competing as possibly the only Shomer Shabbat person ever in the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Competition. It all happened in LA.
 
The Competitor
It was around twenty-five years ago when the only kosher Nathan’s at the time was in Los Angeles. The competitor and proud Jew I am, I showed up ready to eat.
This was in LA. Not Yerushalayim. The Nathan’s in Jerusalem closed down, because they had the competition in Jerusalem and the whole city showed up for free frankfurters. Jerusalemites never had a high-class eating competition and they understood competition to mean on the house. Sometimes things get mistranslated in language. After three dogs, the local Jerusalem folk had the chutzpah to complain, ‘Stop, I’m already full… can you bag the rest, to go?... I’ll eat them later.’ Some even complained that they had the gall to bring out the food and to not offer them a seat and some sides. (Some of the closing of Nathan's in Jerusalem story, may not be true. But the story of David competing in the Nathan's competition, in LA, is.)
They didn’t just take anybody for the contest. I had to do well at the eating combine. It was a serious competition, and I had to pass the weigh in. At the time, I was well over two-hundred pounds and I was able to fit into an XXL shirt with no problem. I was accepted. They were worried, as I was forty-five pounds lighter than the closest competitor. And that was a high school girl. I had to. Thus, the story of David and Goliath. Or, David and Some Bikers.
 
Bigger Men
I was competing against bigger men, but I have taken down tougher men and women on the way to the choolante at Shabbat Kiddish. These men were not Sadie or Ethel. I was not frightened. Nothing was going to get in my way. I claimed my spot at the table, planted my feet and did not move; the same way I had done so many times while other famished people were trying to get to the herring after Shabbat services.

Ray 'The Bison' Meduna
Ray 'The Bison,' a man ranked number twelve eater in the world, due to his powerful jaws and lungs; even as an amateur, he claimed fame as the Texas State Kolache Sweet Dough Eating Champion. If they were kosher, he might have taken second. As I learned, Kolache is not a Jewish name. It's a pastry of sorts.
I went up against Ray ‘The Bison’ Meduna. ‘The Bison.’ A man that could eat people if he chose to not be livestock. How can I compete? I was going against a beast. I’m not a rodeo clown. I don’t go up against bulls, bison. I have never went up against cattle. The strength it took for me to go up against him. A Talmid Chacham like myself to muster the power to eat?!
Note: Never say 'muster' in a hot dog eating contest. They end up not hearing you correctly and you're stuck with a jar of dijonnaise.

How to Compete with a Bison - Get a Nickname
I had to use tact. I tried psyching him out. I went up to his face, 'I am David "The Mensch" Kilimnick and I eat hot dogs with a fork, because I am a mensch. I don’t do Achilas Gasa (disgusting glutton eating), unless if there is a chance to win cash. Eating like an animal is forbidden.’
Nicknames are very important in the sport of competitive eating. There was ‘The Fireball.' There was ‘The Hornet’s nest,’ who people stayed away from, as he brought stinging animals with him. I believe he took his nickname a bit too far, with a nest as his mascot. But you knew ‘The Bison’ was scary, because he was willing to name himself something you eat as well, and the competitors do get hungry very quickly. When you can take down forty hot dogs at one sitting, you don't make for a good Shabbis dinner guest.
‘The Mensch’ nickname did not seem to intimidate 'The Bison.' He was not fazed by my antagonizing antics, as menacing as I was. ‘The Bison’ wasn’t competing for a place in heaven and he didn’t know Yiddish. The use of Jewish law and threatening him with inappropriate eating habits was not working.
He wasn’t concerned with Mitzvahs. He wasn’t a Jew who never ate at McDonald’s. He practiced there. He wasn’t playing for a fast-food meal that he never got. He didn't even worry about extra calories. He had a metabolism. He didn't have the Ashkenazi ancestry. He just ate and enjoyed. The movie Supersize Me, he thought that was an advertisement.
He then took the hot dog with his hand- Achilas Gasa. And I was worried.
So, I threw in a, 'You have bad Midot (character traits).' I might have went a bit overboard with the rebuke, but he was prepared. And he didn't understand what Midot means. Maybe I should try psyching him out next time with English.
He told me that he drank gallons of water the night before, just to extend his belly. I knew I was dealing with a superhuman. I can’t even drink a cup before I go to sleep. I’ll have to pee.

Doing it for Jewish Pride- The Kids
I had to muster. I was going up against people who never heard of Achilas Gasa. I had to find the strength from within. I have seen how much grass a bison can take down. I was once at a zoo and I saw a huge thing of hay. It was for one bison.
Whenever eating as much as you can, you have to think about who you are doing it for. Me? I am doing it for the children. The two Yeshiva boys who came out to see a Jewish hero. Two young growing lads who wanted to see what eating is like when your parents aren’t around.
I had to find strength. I looked to the book of Yehoshua, and I heard the words, 'Be strong and courageous.' So, I said, I am ready to eat.
Non-Jews think Jews can’t eat. They haven’t been to a Tisch. They thought I don’t have the makeup of an eater. They’ve never been to my parent’s house for Shabbis. They haven’t seen me at a wedding. Oh, I can eat. They haven’t seen me taking down sausages at a smorgasbord, placing myself right next to the waiter carrying the tray of pigs-in-a-blanket, at all times. Not easy, when they're moving around, trying to serve other people.

The Competition
I had a cause. I remembered why I was going to eat fifty hot dogs. I remembered who I was. I remembered the lessons I learned at Shabbis Kiddish. I was a hero. A Jewish Hero. For these kids, I was no longer an underdog. I was an inspiration. I was the ‘Mensch.' It really gets to your ego when you're an athlete and you have a nickname.

Start of Competitive Eating
After trash talking the competition, Jewish Style, I was neck and neck with Ray ‘The Bison’ Meduna on the first four hot dogs. I could see Jewish pride on the two Yeshiva boys’ faces, gazing at the competition; reminiscent of Jews watching Sandy Koufax play baseball for the LA Dodgers in the 1960s. The resemblance was uncanny. I saw a future of young Jewish boys, full of newfound inspiration, thinking they too could be an athlete and eat like a mensch; knowing they too could fulfil their athletic dreams with saturated fats. I pride myself on being an inspiration.
‘The Bison’ and myself neck and neck, as the Yeshiva boys and crowd were cheering, ‘Mensch! Mensch! Mensch! Mensch! Mensch!’ Four hot dogs against four hot dogs, the first minute down, and then he kept on eating. Ray must’ve been trying to prove something. That was too much already. I was full. I needed a little schnapps.
The cheers kept on going, ‘Mensch! Mensch! Mensch! Mensch! Mensch!’ One biker was taking down dog number twenty-four. He heard them chanting, 'Munch! Munch! Munch!'
I kept on going for those kids. I was deflated when I heard twenty-four hot dogs, but I kept going for the Bachurs. A true Tzadik works with what he has, and I had heartburn.
 
It Was Rigged Against Jews
There is no place for a religious Jew in competitive eating. They said, 'On your marks, get set, go.' I turned to the announcer as he said the word ‘go’ and asked, 'Where is the washing station?' I had to do Nitilat Yadaim (pre-meal hand washing). I had to wash my hands before I eat bread. You have your pre-competitive eating rituals, I have mine. The competition included bread. You drink water to prepare, I pray to Gd that I won't puke. Not fair.
I didn’t want to sin by not washing my hands and Achilah Gasa. What was I to do? Wash and eat a little bread beforehand? Filling up on carbs, before the competition?

If You Compete, You Are A Winner - The Lesson
Eating is about competition. As seen at Kiddish, where I have learned so much about ensuring other people don't get food, only the strong survive.
What made me a winner, you ask. It was probably the way I scarfed down those first four dogs in record time, after I washed, to catch up to the competition. Winners don't complain about referees. They stopped me from using my elbows, used for keeping the other competitors away from the food; a technique developed at Kiddish, based on Fran Schwartz’s choolante approach. At the end of the eight minutes, I had taken down a good nine hot dogs. I was a winner after all. It was a decent lunch.
The competition didn’t include mayonnaise and chili, but I requested the toppings. If I was there already, I was going to get the works. It was a good spread. They said that it was the first time on American soil that anybody packed up the food and asked for a to go bag at the Nathan’s Contest. They said it reminded them of the competition they hosted in Jerusalem.

I am a Hero if that is the Ending
Did I ruin a couple of Yeshiva boys’ dreams, skipping class that day?! I might have. Even so, they learned a little Torah as they heard me telling Ray ‘The Bison’ Meduna about Achilat Gasa. Maybe they are rabbis now, out there telling their students about a great Jewish legend who competed in the hardest of circumstances and washed his hands, like Sandy Koufax. Maybe they're playing baseball. Maybe they're bowling. Whatever they are doing, the story of inspiration lives on with those two kids who flunked out of Yeshiva.
One thing is for sure. Whatever they are doing, they will never let being overweight get in their way.
David ‘The Mensch’ lost the battle to ‘The Bison’ that day. If my opponent had been Goliath, I might have won. Nothing in the Bible says that Goliath was able to eat thirty-five dogs in one sitting, in eight minutes, with buns.

As I was carried off the stage. I couldn’t move. I was full. I had eaten too much. Being carried that day, I could still hear them cheering, 'Mensch! Mensch! Mensch! Mensch!' It turned out that Nathan's wanted back the hot dogs I took.

That was the end of my career. I realized that competitive eating was not for me. With my Ashkenaz genes I would've got real heavy.

Postscript
I didn’t finish last. For those kids, I was first.
There was a twelve-year-old girl next to me. She was out real quick. After the third dog, she said she felt bloated. I understood her.

I believe some of those men got sick that day. In fairness, they brought out those trays. Huge trays of dogs. I didn't know who how many people they were thinking were going to show. There were only six of us. I don't know why eight industrial size trays were necessary. They couldn’t have cooked all of these hot dogs right. This all had me worried. I didn’t want to get salmonella.
I had a great effect on the future of competitive eating. Never before had competitors requested iced tea. It was always water. Now, the professional eaters enjoy their forty dogs with mayonnaise and a cold refreshing soft drink to wash it all down.

No elbows were allowed. That was not fair. You couldn't hit. My Kiddish table training would've given me the advantage. If violence was allowed, I believe I would've controlled at least three of the industrial trays.
If I was able to hit, and there was somebody walking around with the hot dog trays, I would've had a chance.
The point of the story: I would not have lost in Israel. My competition would have also gotten up to wash.
 
There is no more Kosher Nathan’s in LA. Was it me and the tray of dogs I took home? Maybe the other Jews caught on the next year and went for the free Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Luncheon.
 
We are working on a Jewish food eating competition. It will come as soon as we can afford all the to go bags.

To this day, people ask, ‘What’s the reason why David stopped eating?' I was full.