I’ve been a lucky sports fan through my first 20 years of life.

I’ve had the honor of… I’ve been a lucky sports fan through my first 20 years of life.

I’ve had the honor of visiting Yankee Stadium and Fenway Park. I’ve seen legendary athletes like Ken Griffey Jr. and Barry Bonds in person. I’ve even been to a World Series game in which President Bush threw out the first pitch, and, while in the upper deck, I was joined not only by thousands of baseball fans but also by hundreds of secret service men wielding sniper rifles.

But that was all practice leading up to this past Friday, when I went to the Nathan’s Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog-Eating Contest.

Started in 1916, this hot dog-eating contest is the apex of competitive eating. It’s held every year on July 4 and celebrates two of America’s favorite things: eating and America.

The big storyline heading into the event was the rematch between Takeru Kobayashi, a former champion, and Joey Chestnut, who won last year’s contest and ended Kobayashi’s streak of five consecutive titles.

The two men were positioned in the center of the long table facing the crowd. There might have been 19 other competitors, but all eyes were on these two men.

Not a sport you say? Quite the opposite.

It’s not just a sport of strategy, talent and the will power to continue when you don’t feel you can anymore, it’s a sport of quick hands, strong throats and elastic waistbands. It also knows how to put on a spectacle worth attending.

Even hours before the first bite was taken, the people running the contest made sure to keep the fans entertained. They combined aspects from other professional sports that we love into their pre-contest celebrations.

A group of four cheerleaders danced onstage and used T-shirt cannons to shoot shirts to the crowd. They were all dressed in identical red tank tops and white skirts.

There was a dance contest between two mascots: an old Nathan’s hot dog and a new one. The older mascot won the dance-off, but both stayed around the rest of the day.

It was clear that on this July 4 the fans in attendance were more than pleased with their holiday plans. George Shea, the emcee for the event, said an estimated 35,000 people came to Coney Island – home to the original Nathan’s contest – or as he called the area, the “Madison Square Garden of Gurgitation.”

Although the sun was tucked away behind a crowd of clouds, the beginning of the contest prompted a sea of yellow to fill the sky, thanks to thunder sticks handed out by Nathan’s.

Thanks to logical positioning, it was easy to keep an eye on Kobayashi and Chestnut and even easier to see just how differently they ate.

Kobayashi eats in a much more machine-like manner. He bends slightly and barely moves anything but his arms, except occasionally hopping or quickly jerking his head backward like a child who just learned how to swallow a pill.

Alternatively, Chestnut might have the most active swallow of anybody in history. As he bites into each dog, he stands upright, then shoots his upper half forward, making it look like he’s either sneezing or about to give the fans a souvenir in the form of some partially chewed food.

While chewing, Chestnut bobs up and down, occasionally jumping in place a few times to help everything go down. Take that, Sir Isaac Newton.

The crowd loves it. The cheering doesn’t stop. In fact, it only grows louder. A man behind calls his friend to gloat.

“Dude, you’re really missing out. This is without the doubt the greatest 10 minutes in sports.”

Both men also cover their mouths. It’s probably to make sure nothing comes out, but there’s also the chance they’re just two guys with good manners. Either way, both men are well ahead of the other competitors and end the 10-minute regulation tied with 59 hot dogs.

That’s when Shea announced it was time for a dog-off. A man standing to my left was giving his friend updates over the phone.

“They tied! It’s a dog-off! Hmm, I don’t really know what that is, hold on a sec.”

Actually, a dog-off is an overtime period where the man who eats five hot dogs first is the winner. The dogs were brought out, we counted down, and the town men plunged themselves into the plates.

They used their same night-and-day techniques, and, in less than a minute, we had a winner.

After piling everything into his mouth, Chestnut raised his arms in victory, but only for a second. It must’ve been at that point that he realized he had remnants of five hot dogs crowded in his mouth, just itching to escape. He covered up and was awarded the mustard-colored belt.

As he accepted his belt a “U.S.A.” chant broke out, and thunder sticks banged away. It concluded an Independence Day filled with hot dogs, cheerleaders and mascots dressed like hot dogs.

And what’s more American than that?