𝐈 𝐖atched 𝐓he Patriot Games So You Don’t Have To

I watched The Patriot Games so you don’t have to.

𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘗𝘠 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘙𝘖𝘔 1992 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕𝘋𝘐𝘈𝘕𝘈 𝘑𝘖𝘕𝘌𝘚?

No, you’re thinking of Patriot Games. Also, the actor’s name isn’t Indiana Jones, you idiot.

It’s Han Solo.

I’m talking about that show where the wealthy totalitarians from the dystopian Capitol hold a televised contest where one boy and one girl from each district are sent to physically battle it out for the ultimate prize.

𝘖𝘏, 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘔𝘌𝘈𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘜𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙 𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚! 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛’𝘚 𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘜𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘈 𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘞. 𝘐 𝘞𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋’𝘝𝘌 𝘞𝘈𝘛𝘊𝘏𝘌𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘠𝘖𝘜.

𝘞𝘌 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋’𝘝𝘌 𝘔𝘈𝘋𝘌 𝘕𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘚!

Okay, that would’ve been way more entertaining than whatever this nonsense was that I just sat through. No, I mean “The Patriot Games” as in—Donald Trump’s “Freedom 250” celebration event where each state sends their “top boy and girl athlete” to compete for a $125K college scholarship.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 “𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘉𝘖𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓 𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘌” 𝘍𝘙𝘖𝘔 𝘌𝘈𝘊𝘏 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘌, 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘚𝘈𝘠? 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘎.

Trust me, it’s not.

𝘐 𝘔𝘌𝘈𝘕, 𝘐 𝘈𝘚𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘚𝘌 “𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘉𝘖𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓 𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘌𝘚” 𝘈𝘙𝘌𝘕’𝘛 𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘜𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘙𝘜𝘕𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘋 𝘈 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘓 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘌𝘟𝘗𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘐𝘝𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘖𝘞𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘑𝘈 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘞 𝘌𝘈𝘊𝘏 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙’𝘚 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘖𝘍𝘍—𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘞𝘌, 𝘉𝘈𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘙𝘖 𝘚𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘖𝘓 𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘊𝘛?— 𝘉𝘜𝘛 𝘐 𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘌𝘕𝘑𝘖𝘠 𝘈 𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘏-𝘓𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘓 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘒 𝘔𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘖𝘙 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 𝘈𝘚 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘈𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘎𝘜𝘠.

𝘈𝘓𝘚𝘖, 𝘐 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋𝘕’𝘛 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘗 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘞𝘌 𝘒𝘌𝘌𝘗 𝘗𝘜𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 “𝘛𝘖𝘗 𝘉𝘖𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓 𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘌𝘚” 𝘐𝘕 “𝘘𝘜𝘖𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚.” 𝘐 𝘈𝘚𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛’𝘚 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘜𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘗𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘛𝘜𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘌𝘟𝘜𝘉𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘋𝘌𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘌𝘓𝘠 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘋𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘍𝘈𝘙𝘊𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘌, 𝘠𝘌𝘛 𝘈𝘗𝘗𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘠 𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘐𝘚𝘛?

Ooh, you’re in for a long night, my friend. Better go make those nachos.

* * * * *

Patriot Games 2026 is the answer to the age-old question: 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘖𝘩𝘪𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘒𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺?

While “Top Male & Female Athlete from Each State Battle it Out for College Scholarship” sounds promising on paper, you have to remember that this is the brain child of Donald J. Trump and organized by the same Freedom 250 group that brought us the Great American State Fair where the Ferris wheel didn’t work, all the ice cream melted, the “entertainment” featured more people on stage than in the audience, the stage’s ceiling literally fell off and nearly killed a tap-dancer, and Milli f*ing Vanilli was too embarrassed to show up and be associated with this sh*tshow.

Whenever we think about grandiose events put on by Don the Con, certain words always come to mind. Words like: cheap, over-hyped, ill-conceived, second-rate, uncool, cringe, and WHO THE F*** THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?!?

Oh, and racist.

Here, let’s do a little thought exercise. Close your eyes and take a snapshot of the first mental image that forms when you hear “Top High School Athletes in America.”

What does that group photo look like?

If you’ve ever been to places like “society” before, it probably has at least a little bit of 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺, right?

I mean, we’ve all watched “sports” before. We’re aware the NFL is 25% white, the NBA is 15% white, MLB is 59% white, and hockey doesn’t count.

The best estimate is that white athletes make up about 55-60% of high school athletics in America. So, if I told you that a competition featured the top 120 high school athletes across the country, with the help of our Texas Instrument Graphing Calculator we could work out that roughly 65-70 of them would be white.

Instead, The Patriot Games gave us a roster that I can only describe as giving off strong “Scandinavian curling club bench-warmer” vibes. Tons of Kendals, Kendalls-with-2Ls, Kylies, Kayleys, Kaleighs—at least 26 different variations of Kennedy/Kennady/Kennadi—and not a lot of Sayquons, is what I’m saying.

Kennedy, Kennadi, Kenady, Kendal, and Kendall-with-2-Ls (probably)

(* editors note: I refuse to try to differentiate between all these generic blonde versions of “Kennedy,” so they shall henceforth all be know as “Kennedy of [State].”

I was beginning to have my doubts about the “athletic” quality of this competition, but morbid curiosity got the best of me and I decided to plow ahead.

“What are the rules?” I wondered. How does one qualify? What events are they competing in? Are they selecting the top (white) scorers/swimmers/sprinters/record-holders etc. from every state based on quantifiable stats or something?

Er, not exactly.

The selection process is what’s known in sports aficionado circles as “Submit a video of yourself talking about what sports you play, what winning would mean to you, how patriotic you are, and how much you love Jesus and/or Donald Trump, preferably mentioning the latter first.”

And that is how you end up with a bunch of home-schoolers who live in RVs, specialize in corn hole and tether ball, and have only ever hooped on a 9-ft rim in a carpeted gym that doubled as the youth group worship center making the cut instead of any 4A tailbacks from Chicago.

You thought I was kidding.

Other than loving America and Jesus and/or Trump, the only other 4 qualifications were:

• Must be between 14-17 years old

• Must be a legal U.S. citizen

• Must be in good academic standing

• REQUIRED TO ADHERE TO BIOLOGICAL SEX ASSIGNED AT BIRTH!

They were real big on that last one. Can’t have any “unfair biological competitive advantages!” That would be totally and irredeemably unacceptable.

What we apparently can do that is acceptable is take a 17-year old shot-putter and a 14-year old darts wizard and make them play Tug-of-War to see who gets to go to college.

Because a 3-year, 100-lb weight discrepancy is a perfectly fine “biological advantage” as long as everyone’s franks and beans are still in the original packaging.

Before we get to the actual competition—and trust me, you do NOT want to miss this—you’re probably wondering how we got 120 competitors when there are only 50 states.

Fair question.

They also allowed representatives from U.S. territories like Puerto Rico and Guam, the Cherokee Nation, and some overseas military districts.

But don’t worry, you didn’t actually to be from where you were representing. One of the boys selected to represent Puerto Rico was really from Texas—as was another kid representing New Jersey—and the girl representing Massachusetts attended school in California.

𝘞𝘈𝘐𝘛, 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘋 𝘖𝘍 𝘑𝘈𝘕𝘒𝘠-𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘚𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘖𝘓 𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘓 𝘖𝘓𝘠𝘔𝘗𝘐𝘊𝘚 𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘚 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘗𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘚 𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌𝘋 𝘖𝘕 𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘠 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘎𝘖𝘋, 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘠 & 𝘛𝘙𝘜𝘔𝘗 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘕 𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘔 𝘉𝘌 𝘍𝘙𝘖𝘔 𝘈𝘕𝘠 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘠 “𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘍𝘠” 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏???

The kind of competition that involves kicking a Velcro soccer ball at a felt target, running a rudimentary “obstacle course” cobbled together with leftover stations from those canine agility races border collies always kick ass at, and the Pop-A-Shot game from Dave & Busters, that’s what!

𝘖𝘒𝘈𝘠, 𝘕𝘖𝘞 𝘠𝘖𝘜’𝘙𝘌 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘏*𝘛 𝘜𝘗.

I most certainly am not.

𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘈𝘙 𝘛𝘖 𝘎𝘖𝘋?

Indeed I do. It’s kind of a regular segment around here.

Trust me, I would never lie to you people. Even for comedy.

So, the table has now been set. Everyone still with me?

We’ve got 120 mostly white home-schoolers who all play different sports and may or may not be from where they’re from, all angling for $250K in prize money—HOW DO WE ACTUALLY PIT THEM AGAINST EACH OTHER?

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝟏

It starts off with a hexathlon of sorts (that would be SIX events for all you non-home-schoolers) that involves one 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵—the 100 meter dash—plus hanging on some monkey bars, a shuttle run, standing broad jump, a medicine-ball throw (WTF?), and a 55-meter hurdles on hurdles that were so low, when I first saw them I figured they were for the limbo contest.

A boy Kennedy—probably from some place like Iowa—narrowly clears the towering limbo bar.

(Alas, I am both sad and also a little surprised to report there was no limbo contest.)

Everyone got points, with the top 16 boys and girls advancing to the next round.

HOW SERIOUS WERE THE HURDLES?

Serious enough that the announcer on TV said at one point—I sh*t you not—”Kylie Ritchie—you see her ability on these hurdles. She looked up how to do them on YouTube the night before, and that’s just how talented she is.”

Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure there’s a passage in Leviticus that says “Nobody who learned something on YouTube last night is a Top Anything At That Thing. Even in Utah.”

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝟐

Having distinguished themselves from their badminton peers, the next 2 days consisted of dodgeball, kickball, Tug-of-War, the “Operation Endurance” agility course, “Victory Hoops” (the Pop-A-Shot game), and the “Varsity Circuit.” Two of these bear closer inspection.

𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Touted as a “military/fitness-style endurance challenge,” this event sounded like something that would really test the competitors’ mental toughness. And cardio.

THE REALITY: There was a 10-yd belly crawl, then 12 tires to step through, then 8 dog agility poles to weave between, then a 10-ft high cargo net at a 45-degree angle that nobody could fail at if they tried, then a balance-beam walk like they have for toddlers gymnastics at the YMCA, then flip a medium-sized tire, then a monkey-bar swing, then a 20-yd Farmer’s Carry with 2 unidentifiable objects that looked to be nearly as heavy as the Yellow Pages, and then 3 pendulum steps to run across.

“Don’t worry, we have medics standing by.”

It’s the kind of backyard obstacle course you set up when you’re filming parody Youtube content making fun of Crossfitters. The average time was 56 seconds. A real “endurance” buster.

The announcers inform us that one of the boy Kennedys “loves surfing, body boarding, and skim boarding, so his balance should be a factor here” for the balance beam that is a towering 4 inches above sea level.

Unfortunately, boy Kennedy is from one of those those stupid states like Arizona or Wyoming that hasn’t had any water since the late 15th century, so his prolific water-balancing turns out to be a non-factor.

He does not advance.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐢𝐭

This was another timed course featuring elements of various sports—throwing a football at a target 10 feet away, kicking a Velcro soccer ball at a felt target on a wall so it sticks, hitting a tennis ball off a batting tee with a plastic bat and then racing around bases 12 feet apart, landing three underhand volleyball services into the court—you know, typical varsity stuff.

This wasn’t the Special Olympics so much as the Turning Point USA Halftime Alternative to the Special Olympics.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out what scoring system is in place to whittle 32 contestants down to 8 via t-ball and monkey bars. It’s possible they borrowed the rule book from Whose Line Is It Anyway where “the games are made up and the points don’t matter.”

I keep waiting for Musical Chairs or Whack-A-Mole...or maybe a piñata challenge where nobody’s blindfolded—that would be too hard—and all it contains is a bunch of RiteAid-brand sugar-free peppermints, but no such luck.

With the field down to 8 boys and 8 girls, the lucky 4 advancing to the finals is determined by playing a game of Tug-of-War and hoping like hell you got stuck on a team with the rugby athlete instead of the diver.

It’s the Kennedys VS The Kendalls with one lucky girl’s academic future on the line!

In any event, there’s 4 boys and 4 girls left. And I’ll give you one guess what the ethnic makeup of our 8 semi-finalists is.

Surprise! Wait, how the hell did a “Bridget” sneak in here???

The GOOD NEWS is that ESPN decided to condense this 4-day cringefest into a 1-hr broadcast containing 22 minutes of commercials, so everything I just described to you was handled in a 10-min montage before we got to The Final Showdown.

And OH, what a broadcast it was!

For starters, SOMEBODY thought it would be a good idea to position Donald Trump—the man whose biggest claim to fame at the moment is starting unnecessary wars in the Middle East to distract everyone from the Epstein files where he’s accused of raping teenage girls—front and center in a sea of scantily-dressed teenage girls.

Because when you’re a star, they let you do it.

Throughout the program, the camera keeps cutting back to Trump, who is framed in the shot by the 112 losers who didn’t make the semi-finals, each of whom is wearing a gold medal and almost certainly hail from a family where they grew up hearing about “snowflake liberals and their participation trophies ruining America,” so the whole RAH-RAH ‘MURICA! lack of self-awareness is right on-brand.

One part that didn’t make the ESPN televised cut but I’d be remiss not to point out is the National Anthem clips that surfaced on Youtube before the final broadcast aired...

Trump is flanked by the 8 semi-finalists while the anthem plays, then takes his seat...then the crowd waits for something to happen...and they keep waiting...and then a maintenance guy comes out on stage with a power drill and gets down on his hands and knees and starts screwing down the stage floor where Trump was just standing like he’s oblivious this is a 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨

Take as much time as you need, guy. It’s not like we’re taping a telecast here or anything.

THE FINALS

The finals of this abysmal failure of a competition is basically a “Ninja Warrior Course”...like you’d find at a PayLess Shoes Store Going Out of Business Sale in a strip mall parking lot.

8 finalists and 112 losers make their grand entrance. Also pictured: 120 gold medals.

I’m not going to recap the runs through this pitiful course. You’ve all seen American Ninja Warrior. This was the Temu version.

And as uninteresting as you may find this group, the home-schooled competitors somehow found a way to make it less interesting with riveting exchanges after their runs such as these:

REPORTER: Kendall, congratulations. You’re headed to the finals here at the Patriot Games. What was your strategy that worked so well in that first run?

KENDALL: Um, my goal was really just to go through everything I visualized, I mean– I know I can do it, the different thing is just so that everyone here, you know, I’m just so grateful to have the honor to do this in front of everybody.

REPORTER: We saw the embrace of you and Kylie up there. We know there have been so many incredible relationships built at the Patriot Games this year—what does that mean to you?

KENDALL: I mean, when us Top 4 were picked for the Tug-of-War, our main goal— we were with each other for the end of it and, um, once it was official, we all just wanted the best for each other and we were so grateful that it was all of us.

REPORTER: That’s well said. We’ll see you in the finals.

* * * * *

REPORTER: How did you combat the speed on the other side and end up getting your way into the finals here?

MAX: Well, I just tried my hardest, but first of all I just want to say that all of this is for the glory of God. He’s always right next to me, in front of me, He’s always there for me.

REPORTER: Well said. And tell us what is going to be your strategy with another opportunity to run this course again. Anything you’d change next time?

MAX: No, everything was perfect. I like that one.

(Max will lose in the finals after falling off the monkey bars)

* * * * *

REPORTER: You just won $125K in scholarship money, Kennadi, and also you are the girls champion in the 2026 Patriot Games. How would you describe this feeling?

KENNADI: I mean, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s amazing.

REPORTER: Who would you credit for getting you to this point?

KENNADI: God. All the way.

* * * * *

REPORTER: : Conratulations, Rockwell. You are the champion on the boys side. How has it been being able to compete for this and ultimately end up being the final one standing?

ROCKWELL: It’s been amazing, and it’s taught me SO MUCH. And it really, really puts an emphasis on how important it is to put God first in your life and make Him your number one priority.

REPORTER: : When you think about all the hard work that you put in and now knowing that it’s been rewarded, how does that feel?

ROCKWELL: It’s feels amazing. It really does.

* * * * *

Unfortunately, the President* of the United States was no better than the kids at the question portion of the evening.

REPORTER: It’s great to see you, Mr. President. We’ve seen some incredible competition here at the Patriot Games. What are your thoughts on what you’ve seen, the effort out of these athletes?

TRUMP: Well, number one I love Ohio, I really love it. And these are great athletes, so many- I’m sitting next to a whole group of athletes- I can’t believe how many. And they are doing fantastically well.

For once, we’re actually in agreement with his non-answer. We also can’t believe how many athletes agreed to be part of this.

* * * * *

Thankfully, ESPN eventually ended the broadcast.

𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘐𝘛 𝘈𝘕𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋?

No.

𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘐𝘛 𝘈𝘛 𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘛 𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘛𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎?

Also no.

Was it at least on-brand for anything involving Trump?

Unfortunately, yes.