Just yesterday, flipping around the channels while looking for an update from Wimbledon, I stumbled upon a man named Joey Chesnut. He was in the midst of, shall we say, plying his trade. And it was horrifying. The stuff of nightmares. Revolting. Disgusting.
And I simply couldn't look away.
All of which is to say that, in coming years, if instead of hotdogs the competitive eaters gobble buckets of bananas, Joey Chesnut just might be in trouble.
In other words: the boy can put down a banana!
