Greetings, Simple Justice readers! Your humble humorist, Chris Seaton, is back to sling some Friday funny at you, and this week we’re diving headfirst into the Lycra-clad, obstacle-dodging, sweat-soaked spectacle that is American Ninja Warrior. Because nothing screams “American Dream” like grown adults flinging themselves at warped walls and praying they don’t faceplant on national television. Grab your protein shake, folks, and let’s get to it.
For the uninitiated, American Ninja Warrior is a show where people who spend more time at the gym than in their own homes attempt to conquer an obstacle course designed by a sadist with a PhD in physics. Think Wipeout, but with less foam and more existential dread. Contestants—ranging from firefighters to accountants who moonlight as parkour enthusiasts—tackle things like the “Quintuple Steps” (a fancy name for “stairs that hate you”) and the “Salmon Ladder” (which sounds like a fishy sex move but is actually a pull-up bar from hell). If they make it to the end without slipping into a pool of water or their own tears, they get to hit a buzzer and scream like they just won a lifetime supply of kale.
Now, I’m not saying I’ve tried the American Ninja Warrior course myself. My idea of cardio is walking to the fridge during a commercial break. But I’ve watched enough episodes to know this show is less about athletic prowess and more about humanity’s refusal to admit defeat. Take the competitors: these are folks who’ve trained for years, sculpted their bodies into Greek-statue perfection, and still get owned by a spinning log because it’s “slightly damp.” You can’t script that kind of humbling. It’s like watching Icarus fly too close to the sun, except the sun is a cargo net and Icarus is a guy named Chad who owns a CrossFit gym in Omaha.
The real genius of ANW is the backstories. Every contestant gets a two-minute sob story that makes you feel like you’ve personally failed them. There’s the single mom who runs marathons to honor her late goldfish, the IT guy who built his own obstacle course in his backyard after surviving a paper cut, or the dude who’s “doing it for his kids” (spoiler: his kids just want him to stop embarrassing them on TV). By the time they’re at the starting line, you’re rooting for them harder than you rooted for Rocky against Drago. Then they slip on the first obstacle, and you’re like, “Well, at least they tried.”
Let’s talk about the hosts, Matt Iseman and Akbar Gbaja-Biamila. Matt’s the guy who sounds like he’s narrating a monster truck rally, and Akbar’s the former NFL player who yells “STAY FOCUSED!” like he’s coaching you through a divorce. Together, they’re the perfect hype men, cheering every competitor like they’re about to cure cancer by climbing a rope. But my favorite part? When they pretend to be shocked that someone fell. “OH NO, HE MISSED THE LANDING!” Yeah, Akbar, that’s what happens when you ask a human to leap 12 feet onto a wet platform while 50,000 watts of studio lights blind them. It’s not rocket science; it’s gravity.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Seaton, this sounds like a celebration of human spirit!” Sure, but let’s not get carried away. American Ninja Warrior is also a masterclass in schadenfreude. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching a guy who brags about his 4% body fat get chucked into the water by a giant foam roller. It’s the universe reminding us that no amount of deadlifts can outsmart a poorly timed jump. And don’t get me started on the “Warped Wall.” It’s 14 feet of sheer humiliation, mocking everyone who thinks they can run up it without looking like a Looney Tunes character. I’m convinced the wall was designed by someone who got dumped by a gymnast and wanted revenge.
But here’s the kicker: ANW is weirdly inspiring. Not in a “I’m gonna build a salmon ladder in my garage” way, but in a “maybe I should get off the couch this weekend” way. These competitors fall, they fail, they cry, and then they come back next year to do it all again. It’s the kind of stubbornness that makes you believe in second chances—or at least in the power of a good montage. Plus, the show’s been running for over a decade, which means it’s outlasted most marriages and every reboot of The X-Files. That’s gotta count for something, right?
So, here’s to American Ninja Warrior: a show that reminds us to chase our dreams, even if those dreams involve swinging from a rope over a kiddie pool of shame. Have a great weekend, folks. Raise a glass pf Bowmore 18 at scotch o’clock, and remember: no matter how bad your week was, at least you didn’t get disqualified for slipping on the “Flying Squirrel.” See you next Friday!