The hot dog race is always a fan favorite at Orioles games, but when Casey Jarvis is at Camden Yards, his presence gives it a little added mustard.

The 33-year-old attends dozens of games each season wearing full hot dog regalia. When it’s race time, he shoots mustard from a yellow squeeze bottle into his mouth—and often into those of other fans as well.

And he passes out his own free hot dogs to the people in his section, who soon discover what local devotees have known for years: They are delicious.

The proprietor of Glizzy’s Wagyu Dogs, Jarvis began selling quarter-pound beef dogs out of a tow cart in 2022. Slowly, through word-of-mouth and his own brand of dogged personal marketing, Glizzy’s became a citywide favorite. Last year, he became the “chef” (“a term I use tongue-in-cheek,” he says) at No Land Beyond in Station North, where his popular dogs are on the menu.

“One of my slogans is, ‘It’s the meat that matters,’” says Jarvis, who sources his from a farm in Australia. And the origin of that motto is as eccentric as him. “I was selling hot dogs at a rave, and I had run out of buns. I told this [woman] and she goes, ‘Oh, that’s fine, it’s the meat that matters.’”

A Rhode Island native, Jarvis moved to Baltimore 11 years ago. He worked in the food industry before switching to construction. He was drinking at Frazier’s in Hampden, where he lives, when he was struck by an idea: “Instead of hanging out in a bar, why don’t I hang out outside with a hot dog cart?”

Now he takes the cart out four to five times a week, selling dogs at events, concerts, and outside of stores like the ReLeaf dispensary.

“That’s a pretty symbiotic business relationship, as you can imagine,” he says.

A baseball player as a kid, he started taking his dogs to Orioles games in clear gallon plastic bags (as the stadium permits) last year, in part to promote his business, but primarily to have a good time.

“It’s the cost of doing business,” he says. “At the end of the day, when I’ve got a couple dogs on the grill and I’m about to drive [home], I’ll give them to a hungry person on the street. I didn’t start this to become the wealthiest businessman. It’s just a good vehicle for me to involve myself with Baltimore and the community.”

On September 9, he’s taking the hot dog race concept to a whole new level. Jarvis bought 50 tickets to the O’s game against Cleveland, which he plans to resell at face value to friends and followers who want to attempt what he calls a “9/9/9”—eating a hot dog and drinking a 12-ounce beer each inning for nine innings. (Want in? Those interested can sign up, here.)

Jarvis and his pals did it last year. Most people, he says, knew when to tap out. He was not among them.

Hot dogs are loved around the world, says Jarvis, who has a hot dog tattoo on his middle finger. But he sees his unabashed approach as particularly fitting here.

“I’m a little edgy and creative, and Baltimore is a little edgy and creative, and we mesh well together.”