“Do not worry! Super Grover is here!"

He crashes. He fails. He gets up. He tries again. That’s the whole superhero thing, really.

Who Is Grover?

Grover is a furry blue monster from Sesame Street, performed originally by Frank Oz and currently by Eric Jacobson. He’s been teaching kids since 1967, making him one of the oldest continuously running Muppet characters.

He’s known for several things: his job as a waiter at Charlie’s Restaurant (where he is spectacularly bad at his job), his superhero alter-ego Super Grover (who is spectacularly bad at being a superhero), and his educational segments teaching concepts like “near” and “far” (where he runs himself into exhaustion demonstrating the difference).

The running theme? Grover tries harder than anyone, consistently fails, and never, ever stops trying.

He’s not dumb. He’s not incompetent. He’s just… earnest to the point of self-destruction. Every task gets his full attention. Every problem gets his full effort. Every failure is followed by another attempt.

Why Grover Matters

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from caring too much.

Grover has it. He wants so badly to help that he runs himself ragged — literally, in the near/far sketches. He takes on jobs he can’t do well because someone needs the job done. He puts on a cape and tries to be a hero despite having no actual powers.

The joke is that he’s ineffective. The truth is that he’s relentless.

Kids learn a lot from Grover, but I think the biggest lesson is this: you don’t have to be good at something to keep doing it. You don’t have to succeed to be valuable. Sometimes showing up, over and over, completely depleted but still present, is its own form of heroism.

“I am so tired,” Grover says after running back and forth demonstrating spatial concepts. He’s not complaining. He’s just stating facts. And then he does it again, because the kid watching needs to understand what “far” means.

The Unhinged Analysis

Super Grover is the most honest depiction of heroism in children’s media, and I will defend this against Superman stans.

Consider: Superman has powers. Batman has money. Spider-Man has abilities granted by external forces. They succeed because they have advantages.

Super Grover has nothing. He has a helmet that doesn’t fit and a cape that catches on things. He can’t fly — he just launches himself and hopes. He’s not strong. He’s not smart. He’s not even particularly brave. He’s just a guy who decided to help and refused to let his limitations stop him.

This is real heroism. Not “I can do this because I’m special,” but “I’m going to try this even though I’m not.” Not “I will save you,” but “I will attempt to save you, and when I fail, I will attempt again.”

The near/far sketch is the purest distillation. Grover could explain the concept verbally. Instead, he physically demonstrates it, running until he collapses, because maybe the physical demonstration will help one kid understand better.

Is this efficient? No. Is this sustainable? Absolutely not. Is this the most beautifully desperate form of dedication imaginable? Yes.

Grover gives everything. Every time. Whether it’s appreciated or not. Whether it works or not. “Do not worry! Super Grover is here!” He’s always here. He’ll always be here. Even when he can barely stand.

This is an installment of Muppet Monday Mornings, a weekly series where I write about felt creatures with more emotional depth than most prestige TV characters. Start your week with a Muppet.