Bill Roehl, Danni, Josh and I represented the South Metro in the Ghost Wing Challenge Tournament of Champions at the Girvan Grille on Monday night. Once again, the whole gang at the Grille treated us like royalty (Note to FTC: The Girvan Grille provided me and the other 11 champions all the free ghost wings we could eat in 10 minutes, plus three free beers — Summit EPA in my case. Also got a nifty Vikings T-shirt and a bottle opener, courtesy of Anheuser-Busch).

After the challenge, we stayed to watch the Vikes dismantle the Packers and to drink a few more pints of cold, frosty beer. Check out Bill’s harrowing and hilarious write-up here. And watch the video of all the action below (courtesy of

Girvan Grille Ghost Wing Challenge Tournament of Champions! from Bill Roehl on Vimeo.

The wings were hotter and saucier than the two times we ate them before. I tried to just plow through them with a minimum of pausing and/or breathing. A couple of the competitors whipped through three or four plates by the time I finished my second. So as I began my third plate, thinking I was out of contention, I slowed way down and ate just two wings in the final 3 minutes, bringing me to a final tally of 22. When the head chef counted the bones of each contestant, however, he disqualified half-eaten wings, giving the winner just 28 wings and second place just 27. Had I known I was that close, I would have powered through a few more.Yes, I am that stupid.

Danni and Josh both made it to 10 wings and stopped and Bill bravely met his goal of 20 wings, earning him 5th place. A couple of other competitors dropped out really early (did I mention the wings seemed even hotter this time?) and one of our challengers, who shall remain nameless — mostly because I don’t know his name — ended the contest by losing his wings in the men’s room stall. He probably felt a heckuva lot better than the rest of us later that night and following day. I was still dancing with the devil all day today, probably because I had warmed-up ghosts for dinner last night. The folks at the Grille made Bill and me up to-go boxes with a couple of dozen wings each, as well as a to-go pint of the wing sauce. Satan, get thee behind me. Never mind, you’re already there…