Wednesday, May 20, 2009


I've received several questions about the Pointersaurus over the past few weeks, but most of them revolve around this general idea: "So, Sam....why the hell are you doing this in the first place?"

For the cash. And the pride. But mostly the cash. Well, initially at least.

Sure, I'd like to take this thing down, but the odds are definitely stacked against that. Whenever I've heard about these eating challenges, my first thought is "oh, I could totally do that." But there's a reason that places like Pointers Pizza hand out $500 for winning, and it's not because people come in and beat the Pointersaurus on a daily basis. I'm glad that most of you have such faith in Andy and me, as witnessed by the fact that ~75% think we can finish this thing. But in reality, this is going to be ridiculously difficult.

At this point, what it boils down to is sheer morbid curiosity. When faced with half of a giant pizza, I want to see how well I can do. Until you've actually tried something like this, you have no gauge of just how hard it's actually going to be. 

It's very much like my desire to someday hit a well-thrown knuckleball. You see it and you say to yourself, "Look, he's just floating it in there. There's no reason why I wouldn't be able to hit that." What you fail to realize is that the pitcher is still "floating" the ball over the plate at 60 mph. And that the ball is moving around so violently that if Isaac Newton ever saw one, he would re-check his work. Hell, most major league catchers can't even catch a knuckleball consistently. So what chance do I have? In reality, zero, plus a very small percentage of close-your-eyes-and-swing luck. But if someone offered me the opportunity right now to take batting practice off Tim Wakefield, I'd give it a shot, just so I could say, "I've tried this, and now I know just how difficult it is."

Nevertheless, people do occasionally beat this thing. So I'll be there on Thursday afternoon, giving it my all, and hoping that I might just come across that small percentage of close-your-eyes-and-eat luck.

So initially, I guess it was about the cash. Now, it's more about trying to challenge myself and see what I can do. Also, once I do it once, I'll never have to do it again. That is, until the next time I feel like challenging myself.

1 comment:

  1. For what it's worth, they make a 28" pizza at a place in the village here. It's not ten pounds, but it's pretty damn big, and I've very nearly put away half of it on my own. So I have faith in you! Best of luck, can't wait to see how it turns out!