Media Credit: Matt Cianfrani Joey Chestnut accepts the title of Wing Bowl Champion, along with the position's various flashy accoutrements. [Click to enlarge]

Media Credit: Rebeca Martinez/DP Senior Photographer Media and Wingettes alike gather around Jeff "The Natural" Olson to witness and cheer the testing of his stomach capacity. [Click to enlarge]

Media Credit: Brian Shmerling/DP Staff Photographer Unfazed by chicken grease and hot sauce on his face, Eric Wheeler, "The Unfit Eater," looks up at scores displayed on the Jumbotron. [Click to enlarge]

One is a licensed surgeon wearing scrubs and a black wig. One is 6-foot-5, 320 pounds and has calves the size of tree trunks. One was described as the "biggest, fattest, nastiest pig" that Philadelphia sports radio personality Al Morganti has ever seen.

And they were competing in what was - as far as Philly is concerned - the most significant sporting event of the weekend: Wing Bowl.

For Philadelphians, it's more super than the Super Bowl (as long as the Eagles aren't involved, anyway). It's a sort of therapeutic release for a woebegone sports town.

No matter if the Eagles miss the postseason, no matter how the Flyers fared last night, there will always be Wing Bowl, a wing-eating contest that has all the atmosphere of a pro wrestling match - only with far less class.

Friday's Wing Bowl 16 seemed to be the same 6 a.m. gorge-fest it is every year.

The empty 30-packs of cheap beer were there. The busty women prone to, erm, wardrobe malfunctions were there. And the intricate floats and dozen-deep entourages (filled out by bikini-clad "Wingettes") were certainly there.

But this Wing Bowl was a little bit different.

Bill "El Wingador" Simmons, the five-time W.B. champ, Philly fan favorite and 320-pound monster, has been away from the game for two years. But a chance to challenge the odds-on favorite, Joey "Jaws" Chestnut, a two-time winner, was enough to lure El Wingador out of retirement.

Chestnut, the California native who draws more boos in the City of Brotherly Love than Santa Claus and Billy King combined, is one of the biggest names in professional eating and is the perfect Philly villain.

But unfortunately for El Wingador's devotees, Rocky this was not. Chestnut shattered the world record, scarfing down 241 wings and effectively clinching the contest before the final two-minute sprint round.

El Wingador finished third with 205 wings.

And with this being the final Wing Bowl for both Chestnut and El Wingador, there was a sense of closure for both competitors, even amidst the sauce-soaked shirts and distended bellies.

"I think I've put up huge records," said Chestnut, who subsisted on a liquid-only diet for days before the competition. "I have no reason to come back to these contests until somebody breaks them."

El Wingador, the seasoned veteran that he is, was more modest: "I'm third-best in the world," he said, content with breaking the 200-wing barrier for the first time. "It's a big world isn't it?"

The retirements of Chestnut and El Wingador mark the end of an era. But as far as iconic Philly gluttons go, the heir apparent to El Wingador might be waiting in the wings.

Brad "the Lunatic" Sciullo was in second place after the first 14-minute round with 112 wings, but was disqualified in the second round for an apparent violation of the "You heave, you leave" rule.

"I sneezed, and everything - everything - in my mouth came out right through my nose," he said.

"What are you gonna do? I think I did good."

He may not have seen Wing Bowl 16 through to the end, but Sciullo has the pedigree to be Philly's next big eater. He's a native of nearby Uniontown, Pa., and holds the record for chugging a gallon of milk - under 30 seconds. At 21 years old, he could be a Wing Bowl staple for years to come.

And as El Wingador's tenure as Philly Wing King has wound down, he has come to grips with the fact that he is now a former pro eater.

"I'm 46 years old, I'm too old to do this," he said. "I wanna stay alive a little longer … That was the first time I ever sweated eating chicken wings."

If that isn't a cue to nobly bow out, I don't know what is.

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