Joey Chestnut isn’t just a name—it’s a brand. For nearly two decades, he’s dominated competitive eating, cementing himself as the man Americans either cheer or gape at on July 4th. But beyond the staggering numbers, the question has crept in: does Joey Chestnut have a job, a real career beyond shoving Wieners in a frenzy? The answer isn’t as tongue‑in‑cheek as you might think.
Chestnut has built an entire profession around competitive eating, transforming what started as a quirky talent during college into a full-time gig. There’s a blueprint here for turning bizarre skills into a livelihood—and yes, that counts as “a job.”
Yes, Joey Chestnut absolutely has a job—in fact, competitive eating is his career. He first gained attention in college competitions (that asparagus‑eating scene back in 2005) and by 2011 had built himself into a powerhouse so formidable he left his construction management position behind. Today, Chestnut is a full-time professional eater: a media darling, a record setter (76 hot dogs in 10 minutes at Nathan’s in 2021), and a six-figure earner, pulling in around half a million dollars in 2022 through contest winnings, sponsorships, and appearances.
He’s not just chomping away at contests—he’s got the business side down. Chestnut lines up endorsements, strikes brand deals, and serves as a de facto ambassador for Major League Eating. MLE calls him “an American hero and a national treasure,” with more records than you can count. Sure, in October 2024 he took a trip to Texas for a military family event rather than the Coney Island stage, but even that was part of the job: contractual obligations and sponsorships keep him busy year‑round. In short: swallowing 70 hot dogs at a world stage? That’s Monday for Joey.
Chestnut’s absence from Nathan’s in 2024 made headlines—it wasn’t injury or retirement, but a brand clash. His sponsorship with Impossible Foods, a plant‑based meat company, violated Nathan’s exclusivity rules, and organizers deemed him ineligible unless he dropped it. Instead, Chestnut went head-to-head with soldiers in Texas, even setting an unofficial world record—just to prove he wasn’t slowing down.
That hiatus sparked think pieces and debate across platforms. The Guardian angled it with cultural commentary, suggesting the spectacle of hot-dog eating reflects deeper American values—freedom, excess, and identity—and Chestnut is its reluctant philosopher‑king. Meanwhile, Netflix dove deep into the drama, pitting Chestnut against rival legend Takeru Kobayashi in “Unfinished Beef,” streaming in September 2024.
When June 2025 rolled around, Chestnut announced on social media he’d returned to Nathan’s to reclaim his title. “Cherished tradition … huge part of my life,” he wrote—subtle flex, big emotion. His pre‑contest training regimen drew praise: mindfulness, abdominal work, heat acclimatization, and even juggling recovery from a broken leg and personal setbacks in 2021. Public reaction? A mix of relief and admiration. Sports bettors poured in prop bets (number of dogs eaten, records broken), even though Chestnut was the betting favorite at heavy -1800 odds. Pundits hailed his comeback as the sport’s most dramatic storyline yet.
Then came July 4th, 2025. Chestnut munched 70–70.5 hot dogs—good enough for his 17th title but shy of his personal best. His post‑win line,
“I wish I ate a couple more… I’ll be back next year,” speaks business ambition and hunger—literally and figuratively. CBS New York described his return as “triumphant”.
Critics hailed the win as solidifying his legendary status, a pop‑culture icon who treats food like sports.
Joey Chestnut’s “job” is hardly typical—it revolves around eating inhuman amounts of food, training as intensely as an athlete, and navigating deals and media on and off season. His career has grown into a full-time gig built on records, appearances, and brand clout. Returning to the Nathan’s hot dog eating contest in 2025 wasn’t just tradition—it was a career imperative. Whether he’s packing away buns for glory, sponsors, or sheer pride, Chestnut knows precisely what he’s doing—and he’s already talking about next year. The man doesn’t eat for fun; he eats for business. And that business? It’s pretty tasty.
TOPICS: Joey Chestnut, Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest