At pizza eating contest, a marinara massacre | Local News

The people of Halifax and South Boston most certainly didn’t bat an eyelash at the lack of thematic food cohesion. They braved the cold for one reason — and one reason only — the pizza eating contest.

As Matthew Rich, area director of Halifax Young Life; DJ Loco, master of ceremonies; and the mastermind behind this event in its fourth year, Viny Sarnataro, set up the tents and pizzas all while fighting the wind, a circle of spectators descended upon the gluttonous gladiators taking their seats to compete. All eyes and cellphones — they were out in mass — immediately were pointed at Omar “The Natural” Dixon.

Standing 6 foot 8 and weighing in at a self-professed 515 pounds, who could possibly inhale a whole pizza faster than this mountain of a man?

It’s not that Dixon didn’t have competition. A dense fellow with only the hint of a neck that would remind any avid comic book aficionado of “The Juggernaut” sat at the table to Dixon’s right and wasn’t afraid to throw marinara around. The globules on his bright white shirt attested to such just seconds after DJ LOCO yelled go.

Then there was “Headphones.” Sitting at the same table as “The Juggernaut,” he was a bit of a lanky fellow. How was “Headphones” going to make up for a clear girth disadvantage? Well, so as to not be distracted by any competitor’s trash talk or commotion, he blasted a soundtrack in his ears while shoveling dough down his gullet.

Unlike “Headphones.” competitors “Ginger Pitbull” and “American Pitbull” both had some bulk to them. Were the two stout men kin? That’s anyone’s guess. While they weren’t sitting at the same table, there was undeniably a shared likeness amongst the two.

“Ginger Pitbull” with his fiery red maine sat at Dixon’s table while “American Pitbull” dawning the red and white strips in headwear form joined “Headphones” and Juggernaut’s table.

Finally, of note that cold night was “The Rookie.” A true David among a slew of gastronomic Goliaths, he came armed not with a sling shot but with a ravenously supportive clan. So loud in their support was his family that “Headphones” likely heard them. What “The Rookie” gave up in age, experience, and size, he attempted to make up with tenacity and optimism.

All that said, it was clear from the beginning that Dixon was simply out there competing with himself. While others looked pensive as the countdown to inhalation commenced, Dixon couldn’t have been more relaxed. So much so, he danced in his chair as his competitors gripped their slices with their chilly hands edging them inches from their faces. Had it not been so chilly, sweaty brows would have been abundant.

Dixon employed a slice stacking and folding technique to shove gargantuan piles of compacted pizza in his mouth. Chewing was secondary to expanding storage in his gullet. At one point, Dixon took on the facial shape of a ground squirrel using its cheek pouches to procure acorns. It was an effective approach. Once full, Dixon’s molars and incisors took over, making short work of the pizza. In the time it took other competitors to down one slice, Dixon had crushed five.

Occasionally Dixon would glance up from the table, sauce dripping from his cheeks and chin to scan the progress of his competitors. This was simply a formality however, as Dixon cruised to victory minutes before anyone else could consume their pizza. Of no threat to Dixon, his table mate, “Ginger Pitbull,” did take second place. His red beard stained even darker red by the residual marinara.

The real battle was for third. “Headphones,” always the savvy eater, began dunking his crusts in water to try and get them down his face. However, armed with a soundtrack and water only got him but so far, “Headphones” would ultimately tap out to the crowd’s disapproval after getting close to 75% of his pizza down.

“American Pitbull” and “The Rookie” remained locked in a true eaters duel as “Headphones” was consoled by his supporters. “The Rookie” began taking advice from Dixon, and pushed more pizza into the sides of his mouth, but “American Pitbull” was nipping at his heals.

Both down to just a few crusts, “The Rookie” managed to get all of his pizza in his mouth first, and even stood up in celebration to the delight of his raucous family. This early celebration however was premature. Whereas Dixon’s teeth made short work of the compacted food, “The Rookies’ compers and jaw struggled to grind all of the compacted pizza allowing “American Pitbull” to finish his final crust and waddle to a third place finish.

Almost as soon as the awards were given out to Dixon, “Ginger Pitbull” and “American Pitbull,” the crowd thinned in search of warmth.

Some huddled next to the clay oven outside being used to make Neapolitan pizza. Others visited Pittards Pittstop barbecue and TC’s Barbecue both serving great ‘cue in the cold. But the main attraction was over. All that was left was to tell the tale of the marinara massacre. It shall live on in the minds of the town folk and the guts of the gladiators, until they give offerings to their porcelain gods.