Off the Bench intern visits Wing Bowl 19, meets Ron Jeremy, Takeru Kobayashi

Feb 4, 2011, 3:36 PM EDT

As I set my barely awake eyes upon the empty Wells-Fargo Center that was about to become the pride and joy of Philadelphia, I couldn’t help but wonder if the wing eating competition known as Wing Bowl could seriously get as wild as people say. It’s called a wing eating competition with a bit of Philadelphia pizzazz, or, a poor excuse for Philadelphia’s most talented exotic dancers to get together disguised as ‘wingettes’ to participate in an impromptu ‘flash the Jumbotron to the delight of everybody in the stadium’ competition.

Either way, it was one of the craziest four hours of my life; a fever dream of excessive Kiss Cams, blitzed spectators wondering how they got so drunk by 6 a.m. Also there was a very bemused Takeru Kobayashi, wondering if every city did stuff like this in their free time. As internationally renown adult film star Ron Jeremy, another Wing Bowl rookie and special guest, marveled sarcastically, “I can think of only one city in the universe that would fill out a 20,000 seat stadium at 6 a.m. to watch a bunch of fat guys eat some wings, and love every second of it.

“You’ve done it, Philadelphia. Let the record be shown, I’ll definitely be back next year,” Jeremy said. “And the year after that. Let’s call it forever.”

A special buzz was in the air with the first-time arrival of the legendary Kobayashi, the man known for devouring hot dogs at insane clips while still managing to keep abdominal muscles that could intimate Darth Vader. Kobayashi was there to devour a cheesesteak in a world record time of 24 seconds, which he did with inexplicable ease. But he was but a sideshow. What people came to watch (excluding the Wingettes) was the battle between defending champion ‘Super Squibb’ and Philadelphia eater of legend ‘El Wingador’, a five-time Wing Bowl champion who has faux-retired from competitive eating so many times it’d make Brett Favre’s head spin. As El Wingador came out on his specially-made float, with his son on his lap and some choice Wingettes by his side, the crowd erupted in a standing ovation, showering their local hero with as much love as humanly possible on a weekday at 6 a.m.

Which, in Philadelphia, is deafening. Not even Ron Jeremy got this much applause while he was pulling down the tops of random Wingettes (for real) for the Jumbotron cameras. He also casually made out with any girls within his grasp, to the obvious dismay of the girls who turned victim.

El Wingador advanced through three rounds to the final with Kobayashi quietly observing by his side, but most everyone could tell the aging legend was a bit off. Sweat was pouring down his brow and he was haunted by a weary look. His rival, Super Squibb, on the other hand, was sitting pretty after taking a break during the entire second round. He had put together a gigantic lead during the opening round, so he could afford to relax and watch Philadelphia’s finest wing eaters fight back the urge to puke their brains out and become a local laughingstock for as long as cameras contain film.

The final round was filled with panic and confusion as a lack of a scoreboard for wing totals left many randomly speculating on how many wings had been consumed by the biggest players.

As the man who created the idea for Wing Bowl with his friend and 610 WIP Radio morning show co-host Al Morganti 19 years ago, Angelo Cataldi, nuzzled up to the Dodge Ram pickup that would go to the winner — along with a Harley Davidson and $20,000. A hushed buzz filled the stadium. Enough with the cry for breasts, it was time to crown the winner. As Angelo screamed out that Squibb had defeated El Wingador by one wing, 255-254, to repeat as champion, the stadium erupted with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. As Squibb danced around in a state of euphoria, El Wingador slumped his shoulders and disappeared into a swell of people. Then he was gone. He had become a regular man once more.