With its 6,000 high-achieving students and significant resources, Brooklyn Tech is a place where, if you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of legends being made. Walk through the library and you will hear the keyboard punching of the next Bill Gates. Stop by the courtroom and you will hear the passionate voice of the next Ketanji Brown Jackson. But where in Brooklyn Tech, you might ask, might one find the munching and lip-smacking talents of the next Joey Chestnut?

According to Ivan Mak (Mechatronics ‘26), the answer was initially in 2N1, on February 13, during 10th period. “[Ivan Chen and I] were in class and we wanted to think of a way to annoy our teacher, Mr. Harb. So, we thought of a hot dog competition.”

Flyers made that week confirmed the details of the event, but on the day of the competition, Mak “decided to make it an actual thing,” and moved it to after 10th period at the triangle. 

I had the privilege to speak to Mak and Chen (Mechatronics ‘26) before and after the dogs had been downed. Neither Mak, with his thin, circular-framed glasses that couldn’t magnify his small mouth, nor Chen, with his springy cargo pants whose pockets had seemingly never felt the weight of snacks stuffed into them, seemed like natural speed-eaters. Nevertheless, they spoke with the conviction of true competitors, and I became convinced that one of them had what it took to win it all.

“There’s been a lot of pressure and expectations on both of us as competitors”, said Chen. “But I think overall, we just want a fair contest just to see who the better Glizzy Goblin is.” 

The pressure seemed to affect neither of the Ivans, as Mak calmly explained his pre-dog state of mind: “I’m feeling pretty confident. I feel like Ivan Chen doesn’t have the techniques down.” 

“He thinks he’s the one,” Chen retorted. “I just came out of the physics test, I got like a 30 out of 100, but that’s okay. Bro, in the triangle, I’ma down six in a row under one minute. This kid’s gonna start sobbing on the floor. Easy game. Easy money.”

Mak, keeping his composure, expressed that he wanted fans to “enjoy the show” and that this “is a great contest [and] an overall very fun experience.”

“I guess you could call it a show,” Chen said, eyes wide as he saw an opportunity to attack, “I call it domination. I call it a one man show. But you know, it is what it is. This guy was the one who came up with the idea, and I’ma be the one who ends the idea.” The crowd that had formed around the Ivans belted a collective “OHH!” as our interview came to a close and the rivals prepared for the contest. 

I got to the triangle at around 3:45 p.m., just as the hype was reaching its peak. I became one of the many students filing into the center of the park, taking off my bag to get close to the center, where the contestants and their managers waited. Other students caught sight of the crowd, climbing onto higher ground to get a view of the center, with one student climbing a small tree to see better. I spotted a gallon jug of water and two pizza boxes on the ground, with each box holding 10 Costco hot dogs in individual brown sandwich bags.

The 100% beef dogs appeared hefty, their red tips peeking out of the sesame-seed covered buns. I had found a spot in the concrete arena just as the preliminary round started, with members of the 60-70 student crowd subbing in to gobble down the first 10 dogs. The crowd, whose demographic seemed to lean senior and male, chanted the names of the competitors, and, for some, the names of the colleges they would be attending. Smartphones littered the hands of these students, with some videoing, livestreaming, or even FaceTiming the event to their friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that a police car had stopped on Lafayette Avenue, monitoring the scene. 

As the preliminary round continued, I could feel a growing atmosphere of anticipation in the crowd. I was pushed around as people grew restless, positioning themselves for the main event. Finally, the first 10 glizzies were gobbled, signaling the end of the opening round. The managers widened the circle, ushering Mak and Chen in. Each had their own pre-game ritual to do. Mak drank a swig of water, and placed an Airpod in his left ear, while Chen put on his glasses and took off his coat. Each was clearly nervous, with Chen swaying side to side as Mak stiffly stood with his hands in his pockets.

Preliminary round contestant and emcee for the event Zachary Punoose (Mathematics ‘26) gathered the crowd’s attention, explaining that they were just eating the beef part, and that the “first to five glizzies wins.” After counting down from three, the crowd erupted and the match began.

Chen immediately wolfed down a dog, and proceeded to use the “duel wielding” method, in which one dog is in each hand and bites alternate between the left and right glizzy. Mak, seemingly shell-shocked from Chen’s quick work of the first dog, split his into two, and slowly duel wielded as well. Mak seemed to be treating the competition more like a food review than a race, savoring each bite of the beef delicacy. The crowd tried to help Mak out, breaking out into chants of “Mak Attack” and generally supporting the underdog, but it simply wasn’t enough to overcome Chen’s chomps. The nail in the coffin was when Chen, chewing as he held his fourth and fifth hot dogs in his hands, flicked a dog in Mak’s face before chowing down, the confident showman letting the crowd know they might as well pack up. 

It was a rout. Chen reached five dogs before Mak got through his third. As he took the winning bite, the crowd swelled with celebration. The contestants were quickly shuttled away for post-dog interviews, and tracking Chen down, I could tell that he stepped with the power of a victor.

“Obviously it does take a little bit of patience,” Chen told me, reflecting on his remarkable consistency and confidence. “It does take a little bit of self control to not lose yourself over people yelling [for my opponent]. But you know, it was the people that were there for me. It was a woman too, who was shouting my name in the midst of all the ‘Maks’ you know, they really stabilized myself. I felt so centered, and I really pulled through at the end.”

“Obviously some people are angry,” Chen said, acknowledging his unpopularity with the crowd. “But what can I say? I’m just a better eater.”

Mak, on less of a hot dog high, seemed unfazed by the loss. He said he was “kind of full” and was just “happy to be here.”

He had strong words for Chen, though, saying that he was “being very arrogant,” and that “he wasn’t enjoying the fun of the competition. He was more like trying to prove something.” Mak continued to focus on the experience over the outcome. “I just had a lot of fun here. I don’t know about him.” 

Most people agreed with Mak’s positive spin on the event, like Isai Arce-Olivera (Aerospace ‘26), who said the event united everyone. “It’s proving that we are actually a school that does sh*t and we’re not f*cking losers.”

“I think it was pretty crazy,” said fan and preliminary round contestant Brady Fenton (Aerospace ‘26). “I knew Chen was taking that the whole time, but, you know, I had to cheer on Ivan Mak even though he’s not the best speed eater. I will say that it was a really entertaining battle, and I had a lot of fun downing two and a half dogs.”

Watching the match, I could clearly see that neither Ivan would become the next Joey Chestnut. But I realized that wasn’t the point. At Tech, we have been taught to care most about individual accomplishments, like having a good GPA or getting into a good college. But when I felt my stomach growl at the sight of those hot dogs, when I heard my peers scream in support of each other, I found that those moments of community and togetherness are what I will remember from high school, not the numbers and titles we are conditioned to crave. At a school with scarce school spirit, I applaud Mak and Chen for making our Tech community just a bit more connected (and a lot more hungry).