The Stupidest Sport of All Time Has Been Found: Professional Concussion Receiving

At what point does an “athletic” event revolving entirely around the prospect of debilitating injury become impossible to refer to as a “sport”? Who in their right mind would subject themselves to the near certainty of traumatic brain injury, in exchange for an uncertain chance at middling compensation? What the fuck is anyone participating in a “run it straight” competition thinking, in the moments before two gigantic men collide and the lights inevitably turn out? These are the questions one can’t help but ask—between the gasps of shock and revulsion—seeing viral clips of this barbaric new competition proliferating on TikTok, YouTube and Instagram. Even in comparison with the gag-inducing outcomes of say, professional slap fighting, the disingenuous and incredibly irresponsible promotion of “run it straight” contests by companies like Runit League seem to be seeking a new low-water mark in what any reasonable person would deem legitimate athletic competition. This is the sports TV programming of RoboCop or Idiocracy, brought to brief, sputtering life before being rendered paraplegic.

This competition is so clearly and profoundly irresponsible, in fact, that it’s not even entirely clear what to call the “sport” itself. The term “run it straight” is typically used, but this is a reference to an entirely unregulated stunt–basically a dare of masculinity–that apparently became a social media challenge originating in Australia in recent years, predating the organized leagues. Is it any wonder that the country recently became the first to fully implement a social media ban for those under 16 years of age, when this is the sort of shit their teens were seeing? Tragically, a 19-year-old Australian named Ryan Satterthwaite became the stunt’s first recorded fatality in May of last year, killed after a botched collision with a friend in a backyard attempt at emulating the social media challenge.

📢 The warning follows the death of Ryan Satterthwaite, 19, who died during a backyard Run It Straight-style game.

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— 1News NZ (Unofficial) (@1newsnz.nzcow.com) Jun 27, 2025 at 1:22 AM

So what do you even call a “run it straight” competition, if you’re attempting to promote it? Some have tried to label it a “combat sport,” but that works directly against claims that run it straight competitions are not specifically meant to mangle the people participating in them. Mostly, you’ll see it referred to as a “collision sport,” because there are obviously so many other popular “collision sports” out there to serve as comparisons.

In practice, a run it straight competition, as executed by organizers like Runit League or Run Nation Championship (which may or may not be the same renamed entity, it’s extremely unclear), simply involves two hulking men–often rugby players, who have at least some physical experience in these motions–running full speed at each other and attempting to not immediately die on impact. One of the runners clutches a rugby ball, but the point of the ball seems entirely vestigial, like a prop meant to confer some air of genuine “sport” on the competition. Regardless of whether you’re the guy with the ball or not, the goal is the same: Obliterate the other person.

This is exactly as horrifying as it sounds. If you have a strong stomach, watch the first collision in this video for a clear sense of just how many brains are being scrambled in what Runit League dubiously claims is “the world’s fastest growing sport.”

When the guy on the left crumples in a heap after the first collision, note how his arm stiffens, extending straight up into the air despite the fact that he’s clearly out cold. This is what is known as the “fencing response,” a classic and easy to recognize telltale sign of traumatic brain injury. Caused by damaging impact to the brainstem, it causes the arm of the victim to stiffen in a sudden, involuntary reflex that leaves the concussed and unconscious person looking like they’re holding a fencing foil. If you see a fencing response, it’s a good indication that the person who just suffered a head injury is going to be badly, badly hurt. And this shit is the bread and butter of “run it straight” competitions, conducted as they are without the slightest bit of protective clothing, padding, helmets or an apparent will to survive.

It’s astonishing to watch what are essentially the worst, most dangerous elements of sports such as rugby or American football, isolated and turned into the main attraction for paying audiences baying for blood. The NFL has been working for literal decades to cut down on and prevent the types of collisions that are the raison d’etre for run it straight competitions. American football banned the spear tackle 50 years ago, thanks to its risks of paralysis and concussion. More recently they redesigned the entire kickoff to result in fewer high-speed collisions, which resulted in an immediate and significant decrease in reported concussions. But meanwhile in Australia, we’ve apparently got dudes who look like extras from The Road Warrior clamoring to receive spinal injuries in exchange for a few thousand dollars. Just how little do these fellows value the continued use of their legs?

The organizers, naturally, attempt to make it sound as if the emerging subculture is being adorned with new guardrails to keep the competitors safe–Run Nation founder Tremaine Fernandez was recently quoted saying that the league insisted upon competitors making “side-on” contact instead of head-on collisions. Videos like the below-embedded “official rules” for Runit claim that “the legal tackle zone is below the shoulders and above the waist,” and that “use of the head is not allowed.” And yet, none of that stops the exact same organization from gushing in its own YouTube video titles about “BRUTAL KNOCKOUTS,” all of which very clearly involve head-on-head or head-on-body collisions. “Allowed” or not, it’s somehow what the company chooses to highlight. It seems the interest in safety tends to evaporate when it’s time to put butts in the seat by marketing the sport as a lawless bloodbath.

It should go without saying that run it straight competitions have been immediately decried by legislators, regulators and any physicians unlucky enough to have become aware of them. Australian sports neuroscientist Dr. Alan Pearce was recently quoted telling news.com.au that it was “only a matter of time” until someone died on the field during a run it straight competition, in much the same way as 19-year-old Ryan Satterthwaite last year.

“This was a matter of time really, as sad as that is to say,” said Pearce, in response to Satterthwaite’s death. “The concern is that this can happen at any level. Even in the sanctioned ‘run it’ events, someone will probably die in that at some point as well. It can’t be done safely, and when there’s kids and teens that see it they like to copy what they see online, and this is something that absolutely not should be copied.”

The dubious legality of these run it straight leagues has led Australian organizers attempting to avoid scrutiny to host competitions that are increasingly far afield, in wild west locales like The United Arab Emirates or Saudi Arabia, where they may hope to avoid regulators or legislation specifically aimed at taking the leagues down. To find participants for their tournaments, however, the leagues have also taken to barnstorming, putting on exhibitions around the globe–including a recent series of appearances in the United States in California, Nevada and Utah. Yes, this shit has now landed on U.S. shores as well.

At the end of the day, the sideshow appeal of this kind of brutality only tends to go so far. What may generate frenzied social media traffic rarely reaches anywhere near the mainstream—look no further than UFC boss Dana White’s ill-fated Power Slap league, which tried to take pro face slapping to cable TV in early 2023 only to be canceled after its first season on TBS due to low ratings. For the competitors, that’s a particularly bad thing, as relatively small viewer bases guarantee a lack of prominent endorsements and small payouts for performers, while the sport remains just as brutal. Which is to say: All the spinal cord trauma, none of the lucrative payoff. Please, for the love of God, do not sign up to launch yourself into 200-pound Australian man for the amusement of those who want to watch you get hurt. There’s not enough Foster’s beer in the world to make this sound like a good idea.