Day: August 11, 2021

Let’s talk about the Cleveland Guardians

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Originally written for July 23, 2021

In one hand, there’s often times resistance to change, even when the change is surrounding perceived offensive sports team names like the Redskins, the Braves and the Indians.  But at the same time, there’s this unwinnable outcome where no matter what the name is changed to, won’t be met with the unforgiving, relentless wrath of internet comedians.

And as much as I too am ready to clown on the Cleveland Indians for being among the first of red-flagged sportsball team names, there’s something to be said about the fact that they stopped dragging their feet, and made official an actual change to the team’s name and identity, because sure, they’re going to and already getting all the ridicule and jokes of the internet, but they’ll also be the first to be forgotten, moved on from, and it will really suck for the Redcorn team that changes their name last, because they’ll inevitably be the one most remembered, and hardest to move forward since they’ll have nobody after them to help take the shrapnel next.

Anyway, so let’s talk about the Cleveland Guardians, formerly the racist-ass Cleveland Indians.  Now I’ve said my peace several times about how I couldn’t really care any less about team names, but I’m neither a triggered descendent of Native Americans nor am I an evil whitey who is exploiting them.

No matter what they team name was going to be changed to, it was inevitable that it wouldn’t be good enough, logical enough, or provide nearly enough room for clowning on, to possibly make it ironically good.  And make no mistake, “the Guardians” most certainly fulfills that failed destiny of a mediocre name change, but surprising nobody at all, it’s a bland, vanilla, generic name type that of course, has no potential to offend anyone, and in the corporate, soulless world of professional sports, it’s basically perfect.

As far as their general branding goes, it’s perfectly safe, sterile, and basically feels like a little league team’s identity has been promoted to the big leagues.  The wordmark is sterile, boring and I don’t even want to know what fake-ass creative agency’s rhetoric is behind it’s boring-ass display.  And it should be of no surprise at all that the boring-ass capital C that has been the interim icon of the franchise, appears to have stayed.

But let’s talk about the, what I’m guessing is some sort of alternate logo, featuring the G of Guardians.  It’s basically a straight rip of a Korean professional gaming club, SK Telecom’s T1 logo.  Why the letter G needs to have wings is one question, but it just so happens that said wings are literally a direct rip off of SKT’s wings used in their T1 logo.  Seriously, the style of them is literally the same as T1’s, except they angle it differently as if logo savants on the internet wouldn’t notice.  It’s literally the same 4+3 feather pattern that merges into a G instead of a T1.

Either way, as a whole package, the Cleveland Guardians is about as exciting as a local home and garden expo.  But it still succeeds in moving the franchise past their supposed racist predecessors, and for corporate investor stooges, this is of the utmost importance to get back onto the MLB money train that will make money regardless of if the team was named the Indians, the Guardians, the LeBrons or the Zukes.

One funny side effect of more or less, retroactively posting something about this topic is this little nugget that showed up not long after the initial press release introducing the Cleveland Guardians: apparently a corporation as buttoned up and polished like MLB didn’t have the wherewithal to double check that “Cleveland Guardians” was entirely available, because not only was the URL, the Facebook and Instagram accounts for “Cleveland Guardians” already taken, they’re owned by a roller derby team and have been for the better part of the last decade.  Not just any roller derby team, but a male roller derby team, and this is the first time that I’ve ever heard of such a thing actually existing.

By now, all the jokes in the world have already been made that I’m not even going to bother to try and pile on top of.  All I know is that eventually, the MLB Cleveland Guardians will get what they want, but I can definitely hope that the men’s roller derby Cleveland Guardians will put up just enough of a fight to embarrass their baseball bitches, and ultimately get a nice big fat settlement out of it, because it’s basically the golden ticket that no other men’s roller derby team will ever be lucky enough to stumble on again in the future.

2 Under 2: If you’ve ever said this (#055)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment
baby’s first bird

This, or anything like this, to me, or to anyone who was expecting a child not their first: “oh if your first child was good, that means the second one is going to be a nightmare”

Fuck you.  Just fuck you.  Why in the fuck would anyone want to put these ideas into the heads of parents knowing that they’re already going to be re-embarking onto the already tremendously difficult path of new parenthood, but knowing that the subsequent children are already pegged to be nightmares?  That fucking sucks, and I genuinely mean it when I want to tell everyone who insinuated this to me, that fuck you.

It has come from friends, it has come from family, and it has come from colleagues, all the same.  I know it’s just conversation, it has no bearing on the fate of our relationships, but fuck you all the same.

I say all this because I am living this.  As much as I love my second child and will continue to love my second child, there’s no sugar coating the genuine difference in difficulty with #2 than there was the first time around.  #1 was a vastly more chill and low-maintenance baby, and I know comparisons are inevitable no matter how much I can tell myself to try and not make so many, but there’s no denying that #2 has been substantially more challenging, and it has been testing my patience on a daily basis since her arrival.

I’ll go ahead and say it, just about every single night since her arrival has sucked.  This is no knock on my child, but because her circadian rhythm is all out of whack and night is day and day is night, when it’s time for conventional sleep is when the most challenges emerge, and mythical wife and I have been pushed to our breaking points numerous times, and I’ve gotten angry and broken way more than I’d like to admit.  Now things have improved slightly since I’m writing things in retrospect at this point, but without question, the first two weeks, every single night sucked, and I burned out repeatedly.

Accurate to this very second, #2 exists solely in three states of being: sleeping, eating, or screaming her head off bloody murder.  There is seldom any moments of normalcy; typically what seems normal or calm are usually precursors to indigestion-related screaming bloody murder, or the next starving like a UNICEF child screaming bloody murder.  Calm is when she falls asleep, but it’s really only a matter of time before the clock gets too close to the next feed, and if a bottle is not prepared in anticipation, it’s going to be eight minutes of agony of waiting for a bottle to warm while she’s screaming her head off the whole time.

Suffice to say, it’s back to being Desmond from Lost, where we exist on these windows of time of 90-120 minutes where she dozes off where we can catch our breath, and if we don’t prepare well, then it’s a punishment of more soul-grating screaming until a bottle is in #2’s mouth.

By no means do have any feelings other than love for my second child, but at the same time, there’s no way I’m not going to document any of the bullshit and how much she’s driven me mad in the first few weeks of her life.  I love my child and I love both my kids, and I love being a dad.  But I also believe in being honest and transparent, and relay the fact that not every aspect of parenthood is a walk in the park.

In fact, I already look forward to the days when my daughters are older and savvy, and I can tell them stories of how #2 was a nightmare baby early on.  Or better yet, when the day eventually comes when I become a grandfather, and I can relay stories to my daughters whom might becoming new moms about how #2 was a ballistic disaster, and that it’s almost ironic payback that she’ll have to endure a crying baby of her own, much as mythical wife and I had to endure her.

I love my daughter.  I love my kids.  But this is reality and in the spirit of transparency and honesty, these are the stories that I’ll tell about it all, good and hellacious