There’s plenty of easy comparisons to make between athletes in professional sports and The Challenge.

The Tom Brady and Johnny Bananas comparisons couldn’t be more apt right now. Despite both having a record six championships, they’re still going into next season looking to prove something. Brady wants to show he doesn’t need Bill Belichick to win a ring, and Bananas is looking to break his six-season curse of not even making a final since taking $137,500 from Sarah on Rivals III.

CT is the Lebron James of The Challenge, still playing at an incredibly high level even at an advanced age. Somehow, both of these guys “only” have three championships despite being one of the best players in their respective sports for more than a decade and a half (fittingly, CT’s Real World: Paris season debuted the same month Lebron was drafted by the Cavs).

And Jordan? He’s Michael Jordan circa 1993 right now, coming off his first three-peat. Hopefully he won’t retire to play baseball, although it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if he somehow became the next Jim Abbott.

But what’s most satisfying about The Challenge is what also makes sports satisfying — the history.

I’m a diehard St. Louis Blues fans. After having the Blues break my heart year after year for my entire life, winning the Stanley Cup last summer made all the years of agony worth it. After suffering 52 years without a championship, the Blues fans earned their parade on Market Street just as much (if not more) than the players.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I had similar (albeit less visceral) emotions when people like Paula, Cara Maria and CT finally won their first championships.

There weren’t any big gatherings or parades after they won their titles (although if Leroy, Nany or Aneesa ever wins, there sure as shit better be a nationwide celebration). But their victories brought on similar gratification from hard-earned achievements.

I watched Paula evolve from a terribly insecure girl who battled an eating disorder to confident and hilarious. Cara Maria from bullied outcast to bonafide badass. CT from violent Masshole to loving father and husband (for his win on Invasion that is, he was still kind of a dickhead when he won Rivals II).

Seeing them win their championships was cathartic, because watching all their defeats made their victories feel that much more earned.

People grow up feeling like they really know the people on their favorite sports team, when in reality they mostly just hear their canned quotes and see their choreographed Instagram stories.

But with The Challenge, we really kind of do know these people.

Yes, they’re edited into characters we see on a condensed television show, but when you see them on 10, 15 or 20 seasons, you get a pretty good idea of who the castmembers really are.

Despite The Real World not having a proper season in more than three years (I’m not counting that Facebook Watch trash), there’s still 10 former Real Worlders on the Total Madness cast. Many fans feel a greater connection with them because we’ve grown along with them.

Most of the castmembers who we first met when they were in their early 20s are now in their 30s, with several nearing their 40s. We’ve watched them age into adulthood over the years, whether it’s for the better or worse (COUGHING INTO MY ELBOW Cara COUGH).

And as audience members we’ve also grown along with them, offscreen. Many of us started watching this show when we were in middle school or high school, and have stuck with the show through new jobs, marriages and babies.

Jerry Seinfeld’s classic joke that rooting for sports teams is like cheering for laundry doesn’t apply to The Challenge, because there’s a real emotional investment with these people.