I’ve never been much of a fan of Saturday Night Live, aside from movie spinoffs like Wayne’s World, so I really didn’t expect to get pulled into a television series that satirizes the behind-the-scenes antics of that show.

Initially, I only paid attention to it because 2006 was the year when we had two competing SNL-styled sitcoms: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip and 30 Rock. Studio 60, with Aaron Sorkin and Matthew Perry on board, was expected to become the clear winner, but that show only lasted a single season while 30 Rock ascended to a full seven year-run.

Eventually I gave it a try, slowly warmed up to the show over its fine-but-not-amazing first season, and graduated into a full-fledged fanboy by season two. To this day, 30 Rock has a secure spot in my rotating stable of favorite sitcom watches with other titles like Community, Arrested Development, and Newsradio.

Created by former SNL head writer and performer Tina Fey, 30 Rock began as a thinly veiled satire of what it takes to run a weekly sketch comedy show behind the scenes. In the show, Fey plays Liz Lemon, the head writer of TGS, a female-centric show starring her best friend Jenna (Jane Krakowski). But when her boss dies and is abruptly replaced by Six Sigma alpha male Jack (Alec Baldwin), Liz’s show is forced to take on Tracy Jordan (Tracy Morgan), a highly unstable but popular movie star.

For the first season or two, 30 Rock explores two key narratives: All of the insanity that happens during the week leading up to the show and a budding mentor/mentee relationship between Jack and Liz. Right from the get-go, everything is a little weird and quotable, but what is only somewhat strange in the first season eventually blows up into full-on cartoonishness when 30 Rock got into its stride — and it was better for it.

30 Rock’s whip-smart writing and packed cast of comedic stars (even those doing bit parts) produced some of the finest episodes that NBC saw in the 2000s. Multi-episode plotlines emerged with each trying to one-up each other, from Tracy’s decision to make a movie about Thomas Jefferson where he’d play all the roles to Jenna’s bit role in a movie no one can pronounce (The Rural Juror) to Liz’s on-again, off-again relationship with toxic boyfriend Dennis to head page Kenneth’s backstory as an immortal angel come to judge mankind.

But by far my favorite aspect of this show is its commitment to cutaways and guest stars. Often, someone will mention a memory or reference, and we’ll get a five-second burst of genius that will take your mind twice that time to process and then send a signal to start laughing like mad. For example, the famous “How’s it going fellow kids” bit that became a meme:

Then there’s a nonstop parade of guest stars that, unlike most sitcoms, aren’t there to receive some sort of fawning, full-episode treatment. Mostly, they show up to make fun of themselves or be put in ridiculous situations. We got Paul Ruebens as a bodily deformed Austrian prince, Kelsey Grammar as the head of a ring of con men (“The Best Friends Gang”), James Franco as James Franco who’s in love with a Japanese body pillow, Aaron Sorkin being a good sport with a walk-and-talk, Margaret Cho as Kim Jong-il/Johnny Awesome, Steve Martin as GAVIN VALOUR, and one of my favorites, Buzz Aldrin yelling at the moon (“I WALKED ON YOUR FACE!”).

I mean, there’s a whole episode where Jenna duels with Weird Al Yankovic over parody songs. And an episode where they create this whole mythology and celebration around Leap Day — and then film scenes of a fake movie about “Leap Day William” (a fish-man) with Jim Carrey. Conan O’Brian makes frequent visits, as does a number of other NBC hosts, and all of them end up coming across as goofy.

I also liked how Liz Lemon wasn’t portrayed as perfect (quite the opposite, in fact). Sure, she goes on rants and high-minded speeches, but those are almost immediately undercut by the fact that she’s a geeky mess of a woman who gives herself high-fives when no one else will. And I was so grateful that Liz and Jack were kept platonic for the whole run (in fact, romance between cast members isn’t much of a thing on this show at all).

I’m writing this after doing a full seven-season rewatch, and I have to say that this show never really jumped the shark. It’s very solid almost all the way through, with seasons 2 through 5 being its best. Season one is the more grounded one (although barely that), six is more up and down in quality (with many classic episodes), and the shortened season seven is pretty much a 13-episode season finale that gives most of its characters and main storylines resolution.

Considering its NBC home and the sheer amount of money and prestige pumped into this show, I can’t say that 30 Rock is some little-known cult sitcom that overcame great odds. It had great odds on its side and used those odds to great success. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a brilliantly funny show that’s not afraid to poke fun at itself and everyone around it.