We Are the Champions (of something or another)

Could any of us be the world’s best at … something? (Image generated by deepai.org)

I have this theory that, if we were to test everyone in the world for the widest variety of skills, all of us, all 8,250,127,344 (as of 10/8/25, with 140 more each minute) would have some ability or distinction that would make us “world class” in something or another.

The test would need to be ridiculously comprehensive and niche, of course. And not all of our “world class” skills would be valued equally by the world. For example, I think my best shots would be in categories like “drop-shotting 65-year-olds in tennis,” or “speed dividing by 7 out to six decimal places.” Maybe if the survey was broad enough you would discover you are world class in speed signing your name or rate of fingernail growth or repelling some particular microbe or singing harmony to Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours.”

But until someone invents that universal uniqueness survey, the only way we will be able to determine the world’s best are “world championships.”

The biggest ones you know about. For athletics, you’ll be familiar with competitions like the World Cup in soccer or the Olympics in – well, a lot of stuff. For scientists and writers and performers, there are the Nobels and Pulitzers and Emmys and Oscars. Heady stuff. High bars.

Wait! Before you abandon your dreams of ever becoming a world champion, I have good news.

I’ve just finished a book called Bizarre Competitions: 101 Ways to Become a World Champion, and it’s convinced me there could be a shot for all of us.

The pathway to glory doesn’t seem to be some of oldest sports mentioned in the book. In marbles, tiddlywinks, yo yo-ing or foosball, you’re likely to run up against folks who’ve spent a lifetime practicing.

And some of the competitions require a particularly difficult mix of skills. How many people have the two skills required for “chess boxing,” with its alternating three minute rounds of boxing and chess? It’s the same with “octopush,” which combines elements of water polo, snorkeling and hockey.

Instead, try one of these. I’ve arranged them into categories to help you focus your efforts.

Got a high tolerance for pain? You might want to try the world championship of “ferret legging,” in which you drop a ferret down your long pant leg, seal it, then try to tough it out while the ferret bites you as it scrambles, looking for a way out (the winner is the person who lasts longest: world record, 5.5 hours!).

If he can just add another 40,000 bees or so, this guy might have a chance of winning…

“Bee wearing” similarly rewards people with faulty nerve endings. First practiced in Ukraine in the 1830’s as “bee-bearding,” the practice has spread to a full body competition. The world champ, a Chinese beekeeper named Ruan Liangming, allowed 59 pounds of bees (about 100,000) to land on his body (don’t worry: he was allowed to wear underwear and ear and nose plugs).

“Stinging nettle eating” (the winner is known as “The King of Sting”), “ice water swimming,” “shin kicking” and “cheese rolling” (a falling race down a VERY steep hill) all have similar profiles: if you can tolerate mind-numbing pain, you have a shot.

High disgust quotient? You might be perfect for the championships of “grits rolling,” “gravy wrestling,” “swamp soccer” and “bog snorkeling.” All offer rewards for people with limited gag reflexes.

Got a talented assistant? In the bunny hopping/”kaninhop” (a Sweden-based sort of obstacle-jumping course for rabbits, as well as the “ugliest dog,” “dog dancing,” “cockroach racing,” or “cricket fighting” championships, another being is doing all the hard work, but you as owner/handler get the spoils of victory.  

You can also extreme iron underwater, on a wakeboard, on top of a car, while skiing, on a unicycle….

Love – really love – your household stuff? “Extreme ironing” (think ironing on cliffs, on top of moving cars, etc), “tin bathtub racing,” “lawnmower racing” or “outhouse racing” may be your path to greatness.

Mentally quick but not quite Nobel quality? You might take on “memory sports” (memorizing long strings of numbers), “board gaming” or “quizzing.”

Finns are particularly creative in developing obscure world championships. In addition to wife-carrying (above), they invented mobile phone-throwing, swamp soccer and ice swimming.

Strong, silent type? It may be time to look into “wife carrying” (this started in Finland before going global — note that the women must be 17+ and there is an over-40 division) and “coal bearing” (an English thing that involves carrying 110 pound bags for a kilometer). Or if you find yourself looking at felled trees and wondering how far you could throw them, your jam might be “caber tossing” (pioneered in Scotland).

Athlete with skills not recognized by mainstream sports? There are many options for you. There’s “canal jumping” (a sort of pole vault over mud, popular in the Netherlands), “ostrich-racing,” “cherry pit spitting,” “stone skimming,” “shovel racing” (down a ski slope), “street luge” (a blind skateboard run down steep roads), “extreme pogo” (how high a bar can you clear?). And there’s a wide array of throwing sports, including “welly whanging” (how far can you fling a wellington boot?), “mobile phone throwing” (world record 320.6 feet) and “egg throwing” (and catching).

More artist than athlete? You might be more interested in the world championships of “latte art,” “winetasting,” “cake decorating,” “sand sculpting,” “paper plane throwing,” “air guitar” or “hog calling.”

You could, of course, start your own competition in one of your areas of strength to tip the odds in your favor.

Or you could declare a championship simply to draw tourists to your home town (was “black pudding throwing” or “worm charming” really a thing? I think not).

I think my best shot may be at one of the competitions omitted by the Bizarre Competitions book: the World Whistling Championship. I thought about competing for years when the competition was held just down the road from me in Louisburg, NC. These days it’s gone international and formal, with prescreening audition tapes required just to gain entry.

To get to the top of whistling world, I would need to take out Geert Chatrou, the three-time champ from the Netherlands. My advantage: he looks smug, probably distracted by his day job whistling for Cirque de Soleil — he won’t see me coming.

But that prescreening opens next week, and then the results will be announced by March, 2026. If I am accepted, that should give me enough time to book tickets to get to Kawasaki, Kanagawa, Japan for the June 18-21, 2026 ”World Whistler’s Convention.”

What’s your strategy?

 Notes:

Bizarre Competitions book by Richard Happer is available here: https://www.amazon.com/Bizarre-Competitions-Become-World-Champion/dp/1770858628

 “We  Are the Champions,” a series profiling a wide variety of obscure global championships, is one of my favorite Netflix series: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/We_Are_the_Champions_(American_TV_series)

World Whistler’s convention: https://whistling.jp/en/wwc2026/wwc2026-event-outline

Geert Chatrou’s story: https://laughingsquid.com/whistling-champion-can-whistle-any-song/