Staff Reports
The ESP Awards rolled around and nobody knew quite what to expect—except perhaps a few awkward silences and some eye rolls. Hosted by comedian Shane Gillis, who’s like a spicy taco at a picnic (some people love him, others are clutching their stomachs), the night had its fair share of cringeworthy moments and a sprinkle of humor. One can only imagine how it felt for the athletes who are used to winning awards, not laughing (or not laughing) at their hosts’ jokes.
Now, let’s talk about Gillis launching a comedic grenade called a political joke. It’s like a tightrope walker trying to balance on a line made of spaghetti—threatening, and downright hilarious at times! But when the crowd’s vibe is more “let’s check our phones” than “let’s belly laugh,” he may as well have been juggling flaming chainsaws. Without a doubt, he has a knack for pushing the envelope (or maybe ramming his face into it), but perhaps the audience last night wasn’t quite ready for those not-so-genteel jabs. Who knew athletes have a different kind of humor that doesn’t involve wrestling and end zones?
In the backdrop of his performance, a particular headline danced in the air like a bad karaoke rendition of “Sweet Caroline”—you guessed it, a proposed UFC fight on the White House lawn. Talk about a brawl fit for a president, right? The last time something like that happened, Mike Pence nearly gave everyone a heart attack. If that’s not a comedy sketch waiting to happen, what is? Perhaps Trump is trying to make politics a contact sport, much like those gripping debates everyone loves to watch.
What made Shane’s jokes land or flop was like trying to figure out if pineapple belongs on pizza: it’s messy, and everyone has a strong opinion. With each punchline that drew crickets, he might have inadvertently transformed the atmosphere into an awards show version of “Guess Who?”—where instead of surprising talent, the big reveal was the number of awkward smiles from Hollywoodesque figures. There are so many A-listers packed into one room that you could’ve mistaken it for a “Who’s Who” of the fear of public speaking.
Let’s face it, comedy is like walking a tightrope while juggling flaming batons. One misstep and your act could combust into a proverbial dumpster fire. Or, in Gillis’s case, it might just lead to some slightly exaggerated groans from the audience. Some critics murmured that he missed the mark completely, which arguably raises the question: should he have tried to cater to an audience of star athletes and their entourages, or stick to his comedic roots? Judging by last night’s murmurs, it seemed many in the crowd were likely more concerned about their next Instagram post than appreciating stand-up humor that strayed beyond conventional wisdom.
Ultimately, whether folks loved or loathed Gillis’s set, it’s abundantly clear that comedy is a vital outlet—especially in a topsy-turvy political climate where everything feels like a live-action version of “Survivor.” The good news? He brought a spark to the night, even if it was sometimes more of a flicker than a full-on fireworks display. The best comedians are somewhat like the best athletes—they know how to read their audience, and let’s be real, last night there were a few folks with their heads in the clouds. Perhaps they should focus more on the comedic punchlines instead of just waiting for a score announcement. In the end, laughter is supposed to be the best medicine, and the laughs might just have been a little shy this time.
