Take out the "Philly Wing Bowl" part and you can't really use that headline in a way that fits so wonderfully except maybe "Gluttony and Strippers Reign at Nate Newton's House".
I've seen the hot dog eating contests in New York. They are fun, but they are too technical. Any time you get a skinny Japanese kid who has gained a competitive edge by dipping the buns into water, you have a sport that has lost its freak appeal. You can bet that Kobayashi isn't going to go all Money Ball scientific on the wing eating contest.
Secondly, though hot dogs are pretty nasty, they don't back quite the stomach punch that fried chicken wings do. More than five of those things and they become the gift that keeps on giving (burp). Never have I had such little food feel like a brick in my belly.
Throw in the ability to raise the spiciness of chicken wings to epic proportions, and you've got yourself a winner for an eating contest: a horribly, messy, greasy food that you can't swallow whole and that could be prepared in a way that melts your tongue off.