Travel, History & Brats in America's Dairyland

Swallow This

Fish Frys

Tim Janus is a 28 year-old day trader from Connecticut. On weekends, with a little bit of help from some face paint, Janus becomes Eater X, “a man of mystery whose inner torment is concealed by a mask,” according to the International Federation of Competitive Eating (IFCE).

It’s a sweltering day in Sheboygan, and Janus’ inner torment is getting the better of him. After downing 37 brats, he is doubled over on the stage, one hand on his stomach, the other hand gripping a table to steady himself, sweat pouring off his face paint, veins popping in his neck and head in the quintessential I’m going to get sick look.

“Are you going to get sick?” Classic Wisconsin asked.

“I’d like a nap. A comfortable place to lay down, you know?”

This is the aftermath of the world bratwurst-eating contest held at Sheboygan Brat Days.

It was the best of times, it was the wurst of times.

Gurgitation superstar Takeru Kobayashi left Eater X and all other challengers in his wake as he coolly inhaled 58 Johnsonville brats in ten minutes without so much as a burp, or a cold beer.

Don’t try this at home. Ever.

Sure, sure, Classic Wisconsin knows (better than most) that this is the state where people love biting the heads off smelt, loading up on Limburger cheese and liver sausage, and drinking beer before 11 a.m. -- sometimes all at once -- and it’s always good to have a national television audience exposed to the fruits of our state, even if those fruits are meat, but elevating bratwurst consumption to a competitive level…

You knew deep down that this just wasn’t right. You felt it in your gut, didn’t you?

The contest started ominously with an amateur contest of seventeen locals, all men (mullet wearers well-represented), vying for $2,000 in prize money, with half the winnings going to charity. (The American Heart Association was not among them, strangely). The bratwurst, cooked to a beautiful golden brown and spooning each other five to a plate, were eaten naked, that is to say they were eaten without a bun, not by naked contestants, and you can thank the God of your choice for that.

Standing in the blazing sun, charcoal smoke and humidity hanging heavy in the air, thousands of spectators cheering wildly, the amateurs fearlessly attacked their brats. For about a minute. A collective feeling of nausea set-in among the participants and audience.

Still, it was impossible not to look, like watching a python eat a calf.

By the five-minute mark, most of the amateurs needed to sit down to continue, and their sweat was dripping onto the meat in front of them.

At six minutes, one contestant began to “reverse direction” as they say in the competitive eating world. The normally entertaining George Shea, head of the IFCE who served as master of ceremonies, angrily collared the contestant just as the man began losing his brats off the side of the riser. The contestant was hustled behind stage, and Shea covered the mess with a garbage bag.

The winning amateur ate 17 brats and made the obligatory flash of his enormous pink belly, inciting a perceptible groan from audience, though nobody reversed direction.

With a delivery worthy of a carnival barker, Shea, a Brooklyn native, worked the crowd back into frenzy before the ESPN cameras.

“They say that competitive eating is the battleground against which God and Lucifer battle for men’s souls, my friends, “ he yelled from underneath his trademark straw hat, “and they are right!”

You saw the highlights…the professional eaters in constant motion, gesticulating unnaturally to coax the food down the hatch, Kobayashi celebrating another win.

Kobiyashi, the Godzilla of competitive eating, pushed the brats down each side of his mouth simultaneously, taking the lead at the 3-minute mark. He broke the previous record of 38 brats less than halfway through the contest. He never broke a sweat. And when he was finished, he smiled and told Classic Wisconsin, “Taste good.” In fact, he was going to take some of Johnsonville’s finest back home to Japan.

And he vowed to eat 60 next year.

In the media tent, Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas expressed disappointment in her consumption of 34 brats. The 105-pound Thomas was snacking on fruit when a group of admirers called her outside for autographs.

Patrick Bertolleti -- wearing a Mohawk, an army jacket, and a sign that read, “Are you talking to meat?” -- wore a pair of headphones and listened to his favorite band, the Mexican Cheerleaders, during the contest. The music helped propel him to 3rd place with 39 brats consumed.

“I’m sick of the food right now,” Bertolleti told Classic Wisconsin, “but in a day…maybe later today…I’ll have some more.”

Bertolleti, of Chicago, loves Johnsonville brats and visiting Wisconsin. “I’ll get in the shade and sit down and drink some water, and then in a couple hours I’ll be good to go to…hit the Violent Femmes concert and party.”

Back at the media tent, admirers were swarming Koyabashu for autographs.

It was a day of truly disturbing acts of gluttony, not to mention distended stomachs, unnaturally red faces and bulging, cholesterol-choked veins.

Maybe it was having seen so many delicious brats eaten in so little time without regard for the culinary craftsmanship put into each golden brown link that left Classic Wisconsin with mixed emotions. Maybe it was seeing that guy from Sheboygan vomit off the riser. Either way, Classic Wisconsin had a bad feeling in its gut, nearly turning away from the complimentary brats served with kaiser rolls, onions and brown mustard inside the media tent.

As the champ himself said, taste good.

It did. And Classic Wisconsin felt much better.

Classic Wisconsin’s exclusive behind-the-scenes look at the world brat-eating contest at Sheboygan Brat Days.

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