Games
Star Power: Tyler "Ninja" Blevins
What would you do if all your dreams of fame and fortune came true? This is something that Tyler Blevins, the Fortnite legend better known as Ninja, must contemplate every day.
Fortunately, it turns out that being a transcendent star is pretty damn fun if you stay grounded.
Richard Tyler Blevins, the world’s most famous gamer, is having a ripping good time. He’s behind a podium, reveling in the bright lights of a Hollywood stage. It’s an episode of the hit ABC game show "Celebrity Family Feud," and Blevins, grinning from ear to ear, is primed to lead his family into a knock-down, drag-out battle against his pal and sometimes online rival, JuJu Smith-Schuster, a Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver.
The show’s host, comedian Steve Harvey, saunters over and, for folks who don’t already know who this lanky white kid with a mop of brightly dyed teal hair is, introduces Blevins by his online avatar, Ninja. “He makes a million a month live-streaming video games,” Harvey deadpans, before moving on to the petite woman at Blevins’ side, the gamer’s wife and business manager, Jessica Blevins. The comedian gives the audience a knowing look, cuing them up. “Way to get in that money, girl,” he jokes, to raucous applause. And with that the ice is broken.
It’s tempting to think that the all-consuming enthusiasm that Blevins shows for this game might be an act, the kind of PR feint that celebrities sometimes deploy. But Blevins isn’t your average celebrity. A champion "Fortnite" player, the 27-year old Illinois native and community college dropout has turned his outsized personality and considerable gaming skills into a hugely profitable enterprise, which of course is an impressive achievement on its own. His 13 million followers on Instagram and Twitch, and another 20 million on YouTube, reflect his staggering popularity.
Tyler "Ninja" Blevins
© MICHAEL MULLER
But his greater achievement, arguably, is that he is alone among gamers or YouTubers for achieving a kind of crossover appeal that digital celebrities only dream about. He’s just Ninja, a one-name kind of guy who can hang with kindred spirits, gaming with Drake and chatting with Ellen. In that sense, he’s a first in the new digital age.
But don’t be fooled. Blevins isn’t just all about the fun. He’s also all about the winning. His fiercely competitive spirit is just part of his massive success and appeal. The other key ingredient is a kind of charming bravado. All of these qualities are on full display after Harvey tees up the first of a series of questions that elicit the gamer’s insouciance. As the two teams spar, the crowd revels in Harvey’s unscripted and often risqué humor. Back and forth they go until there’s only one question left and a victor emerges.
After taping ends and the cameras are off, the stage manager’s son, a kid of maybe 6 or 7, approaches. He wants to meet his idol. Blevins signs something for him and they high-five. The star seems delighted to oblige. Moments like these are welcome obligations in what Tyler and Jess often refer to as their “crazy new life.” He bends down and engages, clearly trying to be authentic and available, a kind of noncelebrity celeb, albeit one with more star power than most A-listers could muster, a high-wattage personality who also happens to be a nice, family-oriented guy who can draw millions of fans to watch him play "Fortnite" pretty much any time he likes.
On set at "Celebrity Family Feud"
© @ninja
Managing this “crazy” new world is a tricky needle to thread. “It’s been really wild,” Jessica says. It’s the day after Blevins’ appearance on "Celebrity Family Feud" and now she’s sitting on a couch in a Santa Monica office space where Ninja is starring in an elaborate photo shoot. “We’re telling each other we’re going to stay down to earth and humble,” she says. “Every time a fan asks for a pic, we’re still all excited about it.” She peers over at the shoot where Tyler, bedecked in a crisp, fitted white suit and polished black tux shoes, is clowning around for the camera.
Blevins’ raw gaming talent is immense. But that’s not the only thing that brought them here. After all, the couple has successfully strategized about how to position him as a breakout star. A lot of up-and-comers in the digital world hope for the same, but Blevins is on a path to deliver. As Jessica watches him from the wings, she muses on her early premonitions about his potential. “I always knew he could get way bigger than gaming,” she says. “His personality is so fun. He was always doing impressions. I thought this guy was so much bigger than just gaming. But you don’t think those opportunities are going to present themselves.”
Of course, they did.
And now the couple is adjusting. The onslaught of attention over the last year and a half has pushed hem to get creative about how they live their lives. A few months ago they hired a private chef who lives in Chicago and drives to their house for long culinary evenings, preparing four- and five-course meals for under $500, which is what Blevins reckons he’d pay if they went out. And this way they can avoid the inevitable fanboys and well-wishers, which can, they both admit, get tiring. “He’ll come over to our house and cook us a really good meal,” Jessica says. Her personal favorite was halibut with pickled fennel and yellow tomato sauce. “That was everything,” she says. He once made them cookies in the shape of a key piece of the "Fortnite" armory, a pickaxe. Another time, he built them a custom-made pastry with Ninja’s logo etched in sugar on top. “We’re overeating every time he comes over,” Jessica laughs.
Tyler "Ninja" Blevins
© MICHAEL MULLER
They also recently hired Jessica’s mother, Darcy, as their personal assistant. Darcy, whom Jessica considers her best friend, had worked for a decade as a physician assistant at a local hospital. When Blevins started to break out a couple of years ago, she started taking all her vacation time to help the young couple out — with their two dogs, with house duties, with the overflow of management duties that Jessica was increasingly taking on. Jessica wanted to repay her mother. But she also wanted to figure out a better long-term solution for everyone. They offered her a job within the burgeoning Ninja family company and Darcy accepted. “She got a raise and very flexible hours,” Jessica says, smiling. “And it’s a good work environment. There are not many people you can trust to do that in your own life. And she told us, ‘I just want to help you two on this journey you’re on.’ ”
Early on in Blevins’ rise, the couple had considered moving to L.A., or at least buying a second home there. But the more they sat on it, the less appealing it became. Tyler and Jessica are both close with their own families, as well as with each other’s, and everybody lives within a few hours of their home in Illinois. The demands on his time are such that, at the end of a long day of streaming, all he wants to do is snuggle with Jessica and binge-watch a few shows.
A day of streaming can be emotionally draining and can sometimes feel like a psychological assault. Online trolls are constantly trying to trip him up, adopting avatars with racist or offensive names and donating in the hopes of getting him to mess up. “I have it the worst because I’m live all day,” he says. “People are basically just trying to get me to slip up or say something or comment on something that I shouldn’t comment on for eight to ten hours a day.”
Tyler "Ninja" Blevins
© MICHAEL MULLER
He’s aware that commenters have lately been critiquing him for being on autopilot when gaming and he concedes there’s some truth to it. “I kind of am,” he says. “I’m focused on being entertaining but also on streaming, good game play and proofreading everything. Every day is clickbait.” His goal in 2018 was to not have to make an apology video, like so many other YouTubers. And he succeeded.
So rest, when it does come, is often low key. He and Jess bought a $100 popcorn maker off Amazon, so they blow popcorn five nights out of seven. They’re looking forward to the next season of "Stranger Things." On his own, Blevins just finished "The Punisher." They’re into “weird Netflix documentaries” like "Abducted in Plain Sight."
“Oh, also 'Breaking Bad' and 'Prison Break,' ” says Jessica, “You know, the OG shows.”
“Anything breaking,” says a PA who has wandered over to listen. Now they turn to watch Blevins, his greenish-blue hair like a burst of menthol against the white suit.
“His natural hair color is light brown,” says Jessica. “I haven’t seen it since our wedding. I told him, ‘For our wedding, you will have natural hair.’ ” They married on August 12, 2017, and hosted about 90 people at the Lehmann Mansion in Lake Villa, Illinois. “It was a dream wedding,” Jessica says. “That was before everything got crazy and blew up.”
Blevins looks up and sees a can of Red Bull flying toward him in midair. The building is an old warehouse, and the can is tethered to a drone.
“This is insane,” he says with delight. “It’s making me nervous, like an old person. Come to Daddy!” He holds out his hands, but when he takes a closer look at the can, genuine surprise erupts on his features. The can bears a likeness of his face. It’s Red Bull’s new signature Ninja can, and this turns out to be Blevins’ first chance to see it.
Ninja gets his own Red Bull can.
© MICHAEL MULLER
“Oh!” he exclaims, grabbing it from the drone hovering in front of his face. “My actual can! Thank you. That was the coolest thing ever.”
“I was totally nervous,” says Jessica, returning to her wedding after watching the drone spectacle. “A maid of honor said something will go wrong — it always does. I had two maids. I was so stressed.” They exchanged vows under a beautiful pergola, in perfect weather, and had a killer dance afterward. Jessica had danced as a girl — ballet, R&B, jazz.
“I did the worm in my wedding dress,” she says. “I was like, this wedding dress ain’t stopping me. Every wedding we go to we’re always tearing it up. This past year all our siblings got married, so we were really busy. He’s such a goofball.”
“You basically need to get all your Red Bull cans delivered by drone,” Blevins announces to all present at the photo shoot. “I need every can delivered by drone now.” He takes a break and walks over to visit Jessica. “I think this needs to be an outfit,” she says. “The shoes, the white laces — I love ’em.” “I’m excited, I’m psyched,” Blevins says. “Europe here we come!” The couple currently spends about half the year on the road. After this jaunt to L.A., they’re heading overseas. First it’ll be Paris for some down time, then Poland and finally Austria.
More than ever he longs for quality family time. “The longest break I’ve ever taken was two weeks ago,” he says. “It was a two-week break of no streaming. Longest I’ve ever gone.” It so happens that Blevins’ dad is a huge Guy Fieri fan, and the chef invited the whole Blevins family out for a week-long bash to celebrate his birthday. The two families hung out for five days. Fieri organized concerts at local venues and prepared elaborate meals. He invited them to the set of "Guy’s Grocery Games," a show that appears on the Food Network. “He made us nachos,” says Blevins. “My dad was over the moon—he had a permanent smile stuck on his face the whole weekend.”
During that trip, Blevins lost some subscribers on Twitch and maybe some ad revenue. But whereas he might have been more reluctant to forgo that kind of thing in the past, now he’s finding it more and more necessary. “It was refreshing,” he says. “Family is important, time away from streaming is important; just being able to enjoy, sit back and relax. Every time I spend quality time with my wife we always feel much closer, and that’s the most important thing of all. I need to take more breaks, to be honest.”
Jessica has also had to up her game as Ninja’s manager. For years she has been yearning to find a good team of lawyers to help represent Ninja for complicated contracts, endorsements and celebrity appearances. “The video gaming world is huge,” she says, “and we needed someone who looked at him as a Kobe Bryant.” It took a long time, but finally about six months ago, with the help of Ninja’s management team in L.A., she found a good firm. Still, every appearance is a negotiation, and often they turn into protracted headaches.
The "Family Feud" folks sent her a six-page release. “No big deal for most people,” she says, “but I read our contract and a lot of the things were talking about merch, and that was an issue.”
"Feud" told her that they didn’t usually make changes. “I was like, I really don’t care if you’ve done this or not,” she says. “If you want him in front of the camera, you’re going to have to take this language out.” The show obliged.
Jessica and Tyler talk about their long-term goals for his brand on a regular basis and think they’ve plotted out a course that makes sense. “We want to bridge this gap between him being a gamer and him being a household name,” she says. “I want Ninja to be as recognizable as Tiger Woods, to build him up to that point. Even if you don’t know golf or gaming, you know those names.”
Blevins, for his part, has come to see the wisdom of his wife’s strong leadership. “Dude, she’s hard, and she’s gotten even more tough,” he says. “Sometimes I’ll get mad because she’s so tough in certain situations and then, like, it turns out that what she was worried about happened, or would have happened if she didn’t crack down. That’s something I have to keep telling myself, because I’m like, ‘Hey, babe, it’s OK’ and then ‘Oh shit, well, you were right.’"
Jessica’s moves are paying off. A member of their team says that once Blevins announces he’s streaming, within 10 minutes there are 10,000 followers online. Within an hour, up to 10 times that many. “He sells out three times a capacity crowd at the Staples Center in a day,” he adds. The manager smiles, sphinxlike. That’s several million views on YouTube, which translates into a lot of money for everyone.
Hamasaku chef Yoya Takahasi teaches Blevins some knife skills.
© MICHAEL MULLER
For the record, Blevins never pretends he’s a real ninja. (And if you’re curious, Blevins believes in God, but limits his theism to the practical. “I’m just, like, morals, karma, do good things.”) He spends most of his time in front of a TV screen in his basement interacting mostly with unknown and unseen digital imprints. He’s a relatively sheltered kid from the Midwest who expresses surprise when he sees a hand roll for the first time (“It’s like a little ice cream bowl . . . of sushi.”), at Hamasaku, a celebrated L.A. sushi joint, where Executive Chef Yoya Takahashi is instructing him in some serious knife skills.
Takahashi rolls out several big slabs of fish — tuna, halibut, salmon — and carefully starts to walk Ninja through the moves: Slice with your whole body, not just your wrist; press down hard to skin the fish.
“Trust your knife,” the chef says.
“No, I trust your knife,” Blevins demurs. “I can’t do that.”
Blevins vows to make sushi at home.
© MICHAEL MULLER
When Takahashi shows him a smaller cut of red snapper, Blevins says, “A little baby — hello little guy!”
Pretty soon they’ve got some nice slabs set aside, and Blevins is warming to the feel of the blade.
“Don’t cut your fingers,” says the chef. “Slowly cut here, like a samurai.”
They grind some wasabi together. It comes time to mold the rice and Blevins is all left feet and garbled fingers. It’s a mess, but he keeps at it.
“People think it’s so easy to make sushi, but it’s not,” says Takahashi.
“No no no,” Blevins says, nodding in genuine awe at the chef’s artistry. “That’s so smooth.”
“Just like you game, right?”
“That’s right,” says Blevins, who has finally managed to wrap a ball of rice and insert some fish and wasabi into the mix. “I admire this so much. We’re all professionals at our game.”
Moments later he and Jessica are eating their creations at a nearby table.
“So when are you going to make this at home?” she says. He looks at her and they kiss.
Quality time
© MICHAEL MULLER