CarJitsu Is Precisely As Dumb As It Sounds

I discovered CarJitsu this past April at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, where a bout was broadcast on a wall-mounted television above a display of Doritos. There is, truthfully, not much to explain about this newfangled sport. CarJitsu is an athletic contest, really a wrestling match, between two people who grapple inside a small car until one of them submits to some sort of chokehold or pin. There are two three-minute rounds but possibly a third if the match is tied after the second round. The combatants start buckled next to each in the passenger and driver seats (selection determined by a coin toss), then unbuckle themselves and attack. They are not allowed to punch or strike each other, much less jab or poke an eye. They can use the seatbelt to strangle each other, however, and this is in fact one of the crowning tactical maneuvers in the sport. They can trap someone’s head underneath the steering wheel or manipulate the levers that adjust the seats, weaponizing the seat itself to pin or press their opponent. Though the FAQ on Pro League Network’s CarJitsu website specifies that wrestlers cannot open the car’s doors during a fight, they have done exactly that during some matches I’ve watched. Perhaps the rules of CarJitsu are evolving, much like human culture in general. The advantage of opening the door and touching the ground is that it resets the round. CarJitsu wrestlers have accomplished all these feats and more in the interest of securing a sign of submission, either a tap or a verbal indication, like a scream, from their opponent. And that’s CarJitsu.

It’s worth emphasizing that in the ideal state of submission, a CarJitsu combatant has been reduced to red-faced immobility and crammed into a crevice where most of us grimace to reach on the occasions we are obliged to retrieve an escaping M&M during a long car trip. None of this was clear to me back in April, when all I had planned was a flight to Oklahoma. But there’s something to be said for the unaided experience of not understanding what you see. A little instruction or experience will help you to appreciate the pleasures of Mark Rothko paintings or the finer points of bebop, but buying a banana at a Hudson News in the airport doesn’t help anyone immediately grasp why a man on the television wearing a skin-tight polyester workout shirt sprinkled with corporate logos is choking another man with a seatbelt inside a Toyota Scion. Especially puzzling are the onlookers sitting in folding chairs. A citizen of the world sometimes proceeds alone, hoping to gain knowledge and wisdom. I became fixated and proceeded to watch as much as I could take.

If it counts as an invention, CarJitsu was invented by a mathematics graduate student from Russia named Vik Mikheev. A couple of entrepreneurs from the “alternative sports creator” Pro League Network (PLN), which also broadcasts slap fights, slap poker, as well as whatever Beastball and Coffin Wars are, then acquired the rights to CarJitsu and turned it into one of their premier products. They have been broadcasting since 2022 on their website, on YouTube, and on whatever backwater channels show up on airport convenience-store TVs. The PLN has a television studio in Branson, Mo., and perhaps will spread farther afield, like an infection. This past spring, they filmed a competition in Dubai.