Spoiler alert: this blog post contains a spoiler that I must alert you to.
If you are a fan of America’s Got Talent and have not yet watched the 2020 season finale, please stop reading.
STEP AWAY FROM YOUR PHONE/TABLET/COMPUTER. I IMPLORE YOU.
Like, right now.
Seriously. Because I’m about to give away the ending and would hate to incur your wrath. I’ve been the victim of a spoiler before, and I know all too well the bitter sting of finding out the outcome to something you’ve been enjoying ahead of time. It’s like skipping ahead to the last page of a book, or learning that Rosebud was the name of Charles Foster Kane’s sled before queuing up the 1941 classic, Citizen Kane.
Shit. I hope you’ve all seen Citizen Kane…
On a side note, you know what my biggest dick move in high school was? I once tore out the last page of a book a classmate was reading when she stepped away from her desk. What an asshole I was, huh? I still feel badly about that.
Anyway. AGT. We’d fallen behind on watching it, thanks to houseguests and other commitments. The final two episodes were saved to our DVR, and we decided to watch them last night.
“I’ve been going out of my way to avoid any spoilers online,” I told Tara as I pressed PLAY. “Let’s watch these before we go away for the weekend, because I don’t trust my ability to keep avoiding them.”
Turns out it wasn’t my ability I needed to worry about. It was my wife’s.
We were about two minutes into the first episode when Tara exclaimed, “Oh, shit.” I glanced over to the couch, saw her scrolling through her phone, and knew immediately what had happened.
“You saw the winner, didn’t you?” I asked.
“Yep,” she admitted sheepishly. Given the circumstances, sheepishness was the only acceptable delivery of said response.
OK, I thought. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. I didn’t know who won, so no harm, no foul.
A few minutes later, Tara struck again. “They didn’t have to list the person’s name right there in the headline!” she said defensively.
Now, I’m smart enough to know that “person” indicates an individual. One person, not a group. Which immediately eliminated all the remaining dance teams and duos from consideration, of which there were quite a few.
“Oh, shit,” she said, as I glared at her.
This was annoying, but at least I didn’t know if the person who won was male or female.
You know where this is going, right…?
Fast-forward another 10 minutes. We’re still only halfway through the first episode. I guess I’m partially to blame for this one, because while skipping through the commercials, I asked Tara, “How did you see the winner, anyway?”
“I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a post with his name,” she replied.
There were three solo male acts left, which made watching the majority of the performances far less enjoyable than they would otherwise have been. The Indian duet Bad Salsa’s performance was killer, but dammit, I knew it wasn’t killer enough. The Bello Sisters displayed incredible acrobatic feats, but dammit, I knew they weren’t incredible enough. 14 y/o Daneliya Tuleshova nailed the high notes, but dammit, I knew she didn’t nail them hard enough.
I knew the winner once Alan Silva was escorted offstage, leaving four acts: two female singers, a singing duo, and a lone male contestant, spoken word artist Brandon Leake.
Lack of suspense aside, I’m very happy that Brandon won! Being a word guy myself, it was exciting to see such a unique art form honored with a $1 million prize and a Vegas act. The dude is mad talented. I’d pay to see him perform.
In fact, last winter I was invited to an Oral Interpretation competition at a local high school for an interview with one of the coaches and blown away by the students. I admire anybody who can stand up in front of a crowd and bare their soul like that.
Have you ever been the victim of a spoiler?
If so, was it Tara who did the spoiling?! ‘Cause I really don’t trust her anymore…