There’s a whole taxonomy of people on any given street who want something from you: the clipboard activists, the donation fund folks who are too aggressive, the lady selling bad art, the creepy free massage guys. And then there’s the humble sign spinner, the platonic ideal of mild inconvenience.

It should come as no surprise then that, when converted into a competition, sign spinning is also near perfect—a raw display of dexterity and athleticism, devoid of the poor sportsmanship and traumatic brain injuries present in lesser feats. Ten minutes ago, I had no idea this existed. Now it might be my favorite weird sport of 2016.