Who does Roki think he’s fooling?

MLB: .com makes a point to let everyone know that next big Japanese shit, pitcher Roki Sasaki will not be signing with the Yankees

Back in like 1998, there was an episode of WCW Monday Nitro where Bret Hart was cutting a promo in the ring with Mean Gene Okerlund, going on about whatever Bret Hart martyr speak he was gushing about at the time, most likely his beef with the nWo.  And then without any notice, Brian Adams, formerly Crush of WWE just meanders into the ring to confront Bret.

At the time, the nWo was wildly more popular than anything WCW-branded, and the nWo was seemingly adding new members left and right, whether they were WCW guys turning coat, or guys just coming into the company just being introduced as new nWo members.

Brian Adams was pretty much a guy that had been primarily a bad guy heel character throughout his whole career to this point, so he seemed like a natural fit for the nWo.  Furthermore, he came into the ring wearing all black and a black trench coat, and the most cliched trope in history at the time was opening a coat and revealing a nWo shirt underneath, oh what a dastardly bad guy.

Basically, Adams got on the mic and told Bret Hart that he would have his back in his plight against the nWo, but absolutely anyone with even just a quarter of a brain knew what was going to happen.  Neither Bret or Mean Gene were remotely convinced, and even the crowd, and WCW crowds were a very different breed of dumb wrestling fans, could smell the most obvious of rats in the history of attempted trickery.

Sure enough, they didn’t even bother to save it for a later segment much less a future show, and Adams opened his coat to reveal the nWo shirt that even Ray Charles could see was there, and Bret got a beatdown when the rest of the gang showed up.

Roki Sasaki is basically Brian Adams, and pretty much every baseball fan on the planet knows he’s going to end up on the Dodgers.  No matter what he says, no matter what bullshit media reporting is done that he’s “giving everyone a chance,” and trying to convince people that there’s a possibility he ends up anywhere other than the Dodgers.

A guy who probably speaks no English isn’t going to want to go to any place not a small market with absolutely no Japanese presence much less Asians in general.  He’s not going to Milwaukee, Kansas City, Cincinnati, and I highly doubt Atlanta, Tampa Bay, Oakland Las Vegas Sacramento, or Baltimore were any of the 20 teams that were reportedly interested because Japanese hot shits require this thing called money to even be invited into the conversation.

Japanese hot shits want money, and want comfort.  So they require a big market, preferably one with Japanese and other Asian people, to have some remote chance that they can get a taste of home when they’re playing abroad.  This is why New York, Chicago, Boston and Los Angeles are always in the conversation whenever Japanese hot shits are on the market, but when it comes down to it, Los Angeles always covers multiple bases because they offer money, comfort of demographic, and the shortest flight distance to Japan, which is why they typically have the highest success rate at landing them.

Geography is undefeated. 

Nobody’s buying it, and nobody really even cares.  At this point, it’s more exasperating that they’re wasting people’s time at even bothering to exert time and energy into this sad ruse, and baseball fans just want him to go ahead and declare the Dodgers his choice of destination, have his shitty little press conference, put on his jersey and shut the fuck up so we can move onto the next storyline, or even the arrival of Spring Training.

Furthermore, the Dodgers have been low-key tampering with the whole thing, with golden boy Shohei Ohtani probably having all sorts of conversations and being in his ear trying to recruit him, since they were national team teammates.

Money isn’t going to be an issue, because the Dodgers would probably defer 60%+ of the contract until like 2040.  The only real issue is that the Dodgers frankly don’t need Roki, because they already have a full pitching rotation with Yoshinobu Yamamoto, Balakey Snell, Tyler Glasnow, Dustin May, and eventually Ohtani himself, but there’s always the possibility that Ohtani just goes another season as just a DH while he recovers, and the Dodgers aren’t the type of team to not pick up a hot shit free agent because they have no need, so much as they can deny others from getting them.

The only question mark and viable alternative to the Dodgers are the San Diego Padres, who also fulfills a lot of the Japanese hot shit checkboxes, but they also play in paradise.  Plus, the fact that Yu Darvish is already there is the safety net that holds some legitimate weight for Japanese guys.

But if I’m a betting man, when Roki does peel off his black trench coat, I still got the Dodgers shirt on underneath.  In the cyclical ecosystem of baseball, the rich tend to get richer, before they eventually age out, crash out and bail out before they actually deal with any sort of adversity, many years down the line.

I mean it might’ve been a coincidence, or it might not have

I saw this meme about how Hulk Hogan was booed the fuck out of Los Angeles during his cheap appearance at the RAW is Netflix debut, and then the following day began the insane fires that have completely decimated the Palisades, Eaton and Hurst regions of the greater Los Angeles area; confirming that god was in fact, a Hulkamaniac, brother.

I admit that I did smirk upon seeing that, which is also admittedly inappropriate and off-base considering the very real tragedy and horror that the California fires have been wreaking out in LA, but sometimes all we can do at times is just laugh, no matter if it’s appropriate or not.  Life and the world are fucked up like that sometimes.

I’m deliberate in not calling them wildfires, because to me, wildfires imply that they were started by in most cases, a lighting crash that then causes enough sparks to ignite something dry and flammable, and then it blazes out of control.  By definition, something that happened in the wild, naturally. 

The cause of the fires have not been determined yet, but I’m going to say that if it were sunlight magnifying through a littered piece of plastic or a glass bottle that set some makeshift kindling on fire, or what I’m going to guess is more likely some stoners hiding in the hills and discarding a joint or a cigarette butt, then they were not caused in the wild, and more accurately caused by the stupidity of people.  Stupidfire.  Dumbfire.  But I’m not going to wager that it was actually a wildfire that’s caused all this chaos.

All the same, it’s a horrendous tragedy and nightmare that is still not over, and serves to kick the 2025 year off to a terrifying start as one of the big stories of the year.

Getting back to Hulk Hogan though, I get why people booed him.  Sure, some of it has to do with his history of getting caught on tape being racist and dropping N-words, and more likely has to do with his very public political allegiance, cringingly going up on stage during an orange guy rally to cut a promo in support, and ripping his shirt.  Probably both, in most cases.

But fans aren’t as dumb as I like to sometimes embody them as, and when it really comes down to it, I feel like most people have come to their own conclusions that Terry Bollea, the man himself, is just kind of a dude who’s full of shit, and is pretty shameless when it comes to utilizing the Hulk Hogan persona in order to benefit himself optimally.  Like there are plenty of other wrestling personalities who are known Republicans and have donated large sums of money to orange’s plight, but they don’t parade it around like Hogan did.

And I know a lot of people are really trying to do such these days, to carve out of their lives, the people whose political ideologies don’t necessarily mesh with their own, and if I did that, I’d lose one of my best friends, and many in my family, who support party without thinking about it, even if their representative exists entirely counterculture to their very existence.  I often feel like an island when I explain to others that I am willing to accept people who support the alternative, especially when we already have a long positive history behind us.  And if I were to consider professional contacts in the mix, I live in fucking Georgia, if I’d want to keep my job, I’d have no other to be able to tolerate.

That being said, I did find a modicum of amusement of the correlation between Hulk Hogan getting boo’d and then the fires starting in Los Angeles, meaning god might just be a Hulkamaniac.  I’ve met Hulk Hogan before, and he was friendly and gave me knucks for coincidentally wearing a Hulkamania shirt.  I can’t say I’d be nearly as pumped if the opportunity ever arose to meet the guy again, because I do think he’s just this walking meme of a human being with some very large public flaws hanging from him, but at the same time, I wouldn’t treat him like a piece of shit and go out of my way to disrespect the man.

Alright, done writing about Hulk Hogan, preferably for a long time, or at least until he does something else stupid and worthy of busting out a litany of Hulkamania references.

Dad Brog (#145): almost three years to the day

I have this saying that it only snows once every five years in Georgia, but miraculously, we got snow today.  It wasn’t a huge amount, but enough to give a nice white blanket to the world around us, to where the girls could wake up, look out the window and be marveled by the sight of falling snow a bright white morning outside.

In preparation for the winter conditions, most of the state went into its typical overreaction of shutting everything down, but after the Snowpocalypse of 2013, I’m not going to complain about the state erring on the side of safety and precaution versus thinking it won’t be so bad and ending up being a national embarrassment all over again.  The government shut down, schools closed, dance class closed.  My waste management company straight up said they weren’t coming, with no makeup day planned.  Pest control company was scheduled to come, and they nope’d out, understandably.

But the best was my job, who graciously announced closure of the office on Friday in preparation for the wintery conditions.  The kicker?  Everyone works from home on Fridays anyway, so it’s basically the equivalent of allowing people to go to church on Sunday.

Regardless, with snow having arrived, it was my utmost priority to get outside and spend some time with the girls, since they basically will see snow only every five years for as long as we live in Georgia and the south.  So, channeling one of my all-time favorite Calvin & Hobbes strips, I didn’t wait to have to be coerced and swayed to play some hooky from work so I could play with my kids in the snow, I basically just checked in at 9, got myself dressed and ready for the cold, and was out the door and in the snow with the girls as soon as I could.

And let me say, how lucky we were to have gotten that real good type of snow, that’s perfect for snowballs, making snowmen and being all malleable and perfect.  Getting to build a snowman with my kids is a privilege I didn’t think about how lucky I am to get to do it, considering the lack of opportunities it’s more likely to be in coming years, and it brings me great joy just thinking about how I was able to do such.  And the fact that my house just happened to have an actual carrot and lumps of coal for traditional eyes and noses, how fortunate that all have lined up so well.

I decided to name our snowman “Jon Snow, king in the south;” the girls were not impressed, and balked immediately. 

So I said okay, we can call him Aegon. 

They didn’t like that either.

But my au pair did have a wonderful idea, which was to recreate a photograph from when #2 wasn’t even a year old, when the last time snow fell on Georgia.  And it was from this, did I realize that it’s almost been exactly three years since the last snowfall.  Otherwise, I will never say no when the opportunity to do a timelapse photo.

#2 usually isn’t a fan of smiling for cameras, but clearly the arrival of snow seemed to elicit such a genuine happy response that here we are.  Best snow day ever.

Happy Trails, Mt. Mutombo

It might not be one of my most prevalent Dannyhong-isms, like Sonny Chiba, lobsters and truckloads full of food spilling onto Georgia highways, but I’ve always been a big fan of Dikembe Mutombo, and hold him in a similar esteem as I do a lot of the random things that I’m fiercely devoted to.  So to hear about his unfortunate passing at just the age of 58, genuinely, really makes me sad and regardless of the fact that the Braves miraculously managed to eke their way into the playoffs on this bonus day of baseball, I still consider the day completely ruined on the news of Mutombo.

Admittedly, a lot of my earliest fandoms of Dikembe were along the lines of irony and stemmed mostly from the fact that he had a name that sounded silly to my American ears, and teenage me would butcher it in all sorts of ways, but still be picking the Denver Nuggets in NBA Jam, because Mutombo had a max stat in defense, and Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf had a max stat in three-pointers, and they were a way better team than most realized.

But also, being a Georgetown guy, he was somewhat local to where I had grown up, and thanks to the fact that I was a Knicks fan, which meant I was a Patrick Ewing fan, which meant that I knew all about his history, including Georgetown, and along with Alonzo Mourning, I had an interest in him early on.  Among the numerous great stories about Mutombo that will surely bubble up in the wake of his passing, one of the funniest ones will be how he would go into local area bars, and in his big booming, accented voice, query to female patrons, “WHO WANTS TO SEX THE MUTOMBO?”

Irony aside, in 1994 I became an actual fan of Dikembe Mutombo the basketball player, when in the playoffs, he led the #8 seed Denver Nuggets to become the first #8 seed to topple a #1 seed, when they defeated the 64-win Seattle Supersonics in five games.  Seriously, Mutombo’s defense was other-worldly during this series, and he swatted 31 blocks in the five games, which is about a third of what the best defenders in the league were doing in 82.

Rudy Gobert is a stalwart defender today, but Dikembe’s performance in the 94 first round is a true masterclass of defense, and watching a man go from blocking a few shots, to completely rendering an opposing offense petrified of going into the paint, lest Mutombo block another shot or two.  Even beasts like Shawn Kemp and the 6’10 Detlef Schrempf were turned into Muggsy Bogues under the living tree that was Mt. Mutombo guarding the rim.

I’d always followed his career, from where he basically had a second home when he was traded to the Atlanta Hawks, and became a perennial all-star for them, and some more playoff successes, in spite of never winning a championship himself.  And no matter where he landed, I was always willing to cheer for the guy, even when playing for teams like the 76ers, Nets, Rockets and even the Knicks.

However, as incredible of a basketball career Dikembe had, what’s more important is the fact that he will always be remembered as a true humanitarian, who was always at the forefront of NBA charitable initiatives.  The man was always involved in charitable efforts, especially when they pertained to matters in Africa, and the Congo native never, ever missed any chance to give back to his home.  The man basically built a hospital completely out of his own pocket.  He suited up with Hakeem Olajuwon in 2015 to play in the first NBA (exhibition) game in the continent of Africa despite the fact that both were long past their playing days, but it was way too historic and important of a game for them to not participate.

And I can’t talk about Dikembe Mutombo without bringing up his Geico commercial, which is one of the greatest commercials of all time.  Oh, and his partnership with Old Spice, where he was the star of his very own 8-bit video game, Dikembe Mutombo’s 4.5 Weeks to Save the World.

Like a guy like Sonny Chiba was to my life, Dikembe Mutombo wasn’t just a person, a basketball player, a humanitarian, a meme; he was in a way, a way of life.  I’ve always tried to give defense the respect it deserves in sport, and I always put a lot of personal weight in good deeds and humanitarian efforts.  Mutombo’s name is one that’s always at the top of mind when coming up with names for use in video games, trivia names.  His iconic finger wag, and quotes like “NO NO NO” or “NOT IN MY HOUSE” are used without concern or care if anyone knows where they stem from or not.

It’s cliché to say that a piece of one’s self is killed when an important person, place, or thing is ended, but in the case of Dikembe Mutombo, I do feel like a little piece of me, and probably everyone else who thought highly of him, died a little bit today.  But a guy as influential as Dikembe Mutombo was, it should be easy to keep his memory alive, with stuff as simple as finger wags or quotes, of a guy that the world simply did not deserve.

Thoughts on my first MLW show

As the consummate pro wrestling hipster that tends to favor indy and smaller promotions when it comes to watching wrestling live, when MLW announced they were making a stop in Atlanta, and at Center Stage theater no less, my absolute favorite venue to watch wrestling at, I was excited when I got some of my boys together to go watch.

Despite knowing of their existence, some of the notable names to have emerged from them, and their general hierarchy in the power rankings of professional wrestling promotions, I’d never actually been to an MLW show before.  In the past, I just wasn’t that interested, and perhaps I didn’t respect them enough, but as my general appreciation for indy and smaller promotions has grown, I was looking forward to giving them a shot.

After all, they still managed to command Center Stage, a venue historic in the annals of wrestling promotion, having hosted everyone at some point, from the NWA, WCW, ECW to smaller rackets like NXT, TNA and GCW, so it should be a considered a rub in the positive direction if MLW could promote at Center Stage.

And leading up to the event, the card was coming together to be somewhat respectable, with noteworthy names and matches assembling, featuring guys like Matt Riddle, Kenta, TJP, Satoshi Kojima and PWI’s #10 wrestler* Mistico among others; but I obviously preface with that “on paper” disclaimer, because when it comes to smaller promotions, historically a lot of workers tend to work down to the level of their show, and I’ve been disappointed more often than not when it comes to actual performing.

*I say this dripping with sarcasm, because as decent of a worker he is, Mistico is definitely no top-10 wrestler, and I feel that he’s the equivalent of a DEI inclusion onto the list, solely to represent both lucha libre and a smaller promotion like MLW

What we were unaware of, was the fact that this was a double-taping, with MLW taping some online show called Pit Fighters, where supposedly every match was some gimmick, revolving around “X region of the world” and “deathmatch” and we were exposed to this really hackneyed card of matches where it would be a Tae Kwon Do match, a boxing vs. BJJ match where Donovan Dijak interfered and rescued the segment, and in one Taipei Death Match, which was surprisingly brutal, to where I was hollering that this was a snuff film, it actually featured a worker that was actually Korean in Ikuro Kwon, whom I had to look up as actually being born in Korea, so that’s actually kind of cool.

But all in all, Pit Fighters was a real chore to sit through, and I kind of felt bad for the friends of mine whom I roped into coming with me, having to sit through the bullshit, but fortunately things picked up a little bit, when we got to the actual live-airing of the MLW FIghtland show that we had originally expected the whole thing to be.

However, much like I had pointed out, despite some of the matches on the card sounding pretty decent, it overall was kind of meh.  Kenta and TJP had an okay match, but nowhere near as good as they’ve gone up against each other in NJPW, Dijak and Timothy Thatcher also was better when they faced off in NXT, and I don’t even really remember many of the other matches at this point, it was such a forgettable card.

The one thing that really made me want to write about this though, was throughout the whole night of taping,** there was one group that kept showing up through the night, which consisted of Bobby Fish, CW Anderson, Brock Anderson and this kid I’d never heard of before in BRG – Brett Ryan Gosselin.

**it should also be pointed out that the taping I think was done out of order, so the Pit Fighters that taped before Fightland, was actually intended to air after Fightland, so there was some wonky narratives going on

And they would proceed to declare themselves “The Rogue Horsemen,” and I’m not so certain that I wasn’t the only person in the theater to audibly groan at such a grasp at relevancy, and one my friends and I kept saying and agreeing that it was the saddest looking stable we’d ever seen in our lives.

So this kid, BRG, I can respect the showmanship and the B+ charisma he has on the mic, but he’s basically a Temu version of MJF, which is funny because so many people have called MJF a Wish version of The Miz, but regardless, BRG’s schtick just seems so regurgitated and he relies too much on cheap heat and calling the audience idiots, so I guess he’s exactly where he belongs in a 4th-5th tier promotion like MLW.

In all fairness, I like Bobby Fish, but the man is not getting any younger, and the numerous injuries he piled up in his later years in NXT as well as AEW have definitely taken their toll on him, but the man really is a tag team guy, that even in a small pond like MLW probably won’t be able to handle the toll of singles.

CW Anderson, I was actually surprised to hear and see him come out, because the last time I had seen him was in like 2019 at a really raw indy show in rural Virginia, where he wrestled The Hurricane in a high school gym.  But the man literally debuted in ECW in 1999, and he looked 40 then, which means he’s actually held up pretty well to only look 60 now.

But he’s teamed up with Brock Anderson, the son of Arn Anderson, in the obvious designated tag team of the stable.  The thing is with Brock is that despite being Arn’s son, he apparently got none of his dad’s talent, and Brock looks like a guy that’s in wrestling because plan A didn’t work, but neither did plans B through F, and he’s in the business pretty much out of no better options and that his dad’s name gives him the foot into any door.  He’s out of shape and poorly trained, and it was no more evident in his talent level than when The Andersons had a tag match, it was ancient CW who started the match instead of the younger Brock.

Honestly, the most memorable things that happened in the night for me, were an appearance by Ernest “the Cat” Miller who hilarious did absolutely nothing at all when he served as a special guest scorekeeper in whatever convoluted wrestling/jiu-jitsu match that Matt Riddle was in.  Also, JBL showed up during the Andersons’ match against the Bomaye Fight Club, dropped their big guy with a short-arm Clothesline From Hell, and whispered something to Brock Anderson, which I’m hoping is not a precursor for him eventually jumping ship to the WWE, especially since Arn is back in their good graces, but it was cool to see JBL continuing his random appearing in various other promotions as of late.

Overall, being two consecutive shows in one night, the whole experience dragged on quite a bit, due to the general mediocrity of the talent.  The show started late, at like 7:20, and didn’t end up ending for about four hours, and by the end of the show, my friends and I were pretty exhausted and ready to get the fuck out of the city.

Bottom line is that if MLW comes through Atlanta again, I’ll either go by myself, or take a pass.  I’m glad I went just to experience it and learn more about what an MLW show is like, but like I said, I don’t think it’s something I need to do again any time soon.

Thoughts about the supposed Goonies 2

It’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t these days, and what’s declared to be real actually remaining real after a little bit of time, but for better or worse, at the time I’m writing this, it sounds like a 40-years later The Goonies sequel is really going to be happening.

My knee-jerk reaction is basically oh god please no whyyyyyy because I really wish Hollywood could leave things that are dead and resting, dead and resting, but seeing as how it seems like allowing The Goonies to have that privilege is coming off the table, might as well allow the ball to continue to roll and brog about it, since it’s evident that this has been on my mind over the last few days while I’ve been waiting for the smoke to clear on whether it’s legit or not, as well as trying to carve time out to write.

Needless to say, I’m not that thrilled with one of my legitimate all-time favorite stories of my childhood being drug out of the 80s just to capitalize on the low-hanging fruit of nostalgia, but what can I say, money is what makes the world go round.  And as Cobra Kai has proven, not every instance of a nostalgia-driven encore is entirely turrible, and although the likelihood isn’t high, I can only hope for the best as far as it concerns The Goonies.

Frankly, if this was ever going to happen, I feel like they’re 10-15 years too late, especially considering the fact that the intention seemed to always have been to bring back as much of the original cast as possible.  All of the OG cast at this point are all too fucking old to be parents to the next generation of Goonies, and they’re at this weird transitional age where they’re too old to be parents to kids but rather teens that are probably older than the original crew, but also a little too young to convincingly be grandparents to the next generation.

But push comes to shove, I’m going to have to assume that the children’s cast of this supposed sequel are probably all going to be the grandchildren of the original Goonies; Josh Brolin is 56 and Sean Astin is 53, and neither are going to convince anyone that they’re any younger than that, so as much as television and film likes to try to convince us that 30 year olds can portray teenagers with attitude, I think it’s probably best to age them up and make them grandparents instead.

Which would probably help to make more plausible the inevitable casting of minorities in the next generation of Goonies, because in the DEI world we live in now, it goes without saying that the next generation is guaranteed to not be a white boys + Data group, and is definitely going to be a little more colorfully diverse by the time this film comes supposedly drops in 2026 or so.

That being said, let’s hypothesize the next generation of The Goonies, apples to apples, because I think it’s obvious that it’s got to be the descendants of the original crew that will comprise the kids’ cast.

  • Mikey will be represented by his granddaughter to be the leader of The New Goonies™; naïve and adventurous, and willing to believe in the remnants of One Eyed Willy’s treasure in the caves.
  • Brand will have married a black woman after Andi dumps him after high school, and their biracial daughter will then have married a black man, and therefore can cast a black male actor to be the descendant of Brand. He will naturally be the muscle and the big brother of the crew.
  • Chunk’s (despite the fact that Jeff Cohen lost all his chunk and is rather fit these days) grandson will be the most likely original Chunk, as in be a chubby Jewish boy who will somehow end up in a Hawaiian shirt and plaid pants, and act as the primary comic relief because it’s funny because he’s fat.
  • Mouth’s grandson will probably be ambiguously biracial, and I foresee someone looking like the next generation’s Mario Lopez will be playing this role. He will undoubtedly be as snarky and blabbermouthed as his grandfather.
  • Data being pretty traditionally Chinese despite the fact that Ke Huy Quan is from Vietnam, will have a granddaughter representing his role, and although she won’t have the trench coat or the backpack full of gadgets and crowd-control inventions, will still be the techie brains of the crew who will probably be good at MacGuyvering shit for the team when they need it.
  • And because the white quotient is starting to get outnumbered, Andi will have a cute granddaughter that probably will look like Sabrina Carpenter taking her place in the next generation, so that Brand can have a potential romantic interest, as well as giving the next generation of young boys something to be confused about through their own respective adolescences.
  • Which brings us to Stef, whom Martha Plimpton has accepted with grace as being the “last” one, will undoubtedly have had an adopted son/grandson, probably white, so that white people still have a slim majority in representation because that’s how Hollywood be, will resume Stef’s legacy of being the tail end of the team, and to provide as much contribution as his grandmother.

As for the actual plot of this film, who really knows what it’s going to be about.  If Chris Columbus and Richard Donner couldn’t figure something out throughout the last 30 years of Donner’s life, I don’t have much faith that anyone else is going to have any better ideas, but it really doesn’t matter. 

If this is going to work, it’s going to have to take place in Astoria, it’s going to have to involve the remains of One Eyed Willy’s treasure, because everyone knows at the end of the OG, the Inferno sails away into the Pacific Northwest, so I’m going to guess that there’s still caches of treasures in the remains of the caves, or perhaps additional ships that The New Goonies can go search for, but as long as the spirit of the film doesn’t stray too far from the original, it stands to believe that this might be able to be as popular with the next generation of kids as the original was to my own childhood.

What kind of irks me though is that I legitimately had plans on saying fuck it, and going to Astoria for my next birthday, by myself, because it’s something that I’ve always wanted to do in my life, and I’m no longer going to expect or even attempt to bring anyone along for the ride, because of people I know, nobody really wants to do this except for me.  Hopefully news of moar Goonies in the future doesn’t re-ignite other OG fans to want to make the same pilgrimage, and ruin my original fandom spurred on by news of a supposed sequel in the works.  Or worse off, by the time I get there, filming has started and I get monstrously cockblocked at seeing all of the original stuff that I had always wanted to see and walk in my own nostalgic life.

Only time will tell, and if any of this shit impacts my future travels, it’s only a question of just how pissed and disappointed it’ll make me.

Every Braves fan can hear the gears grinding

Sauce: Dodgers release Jason Heyward, he is free to sign anywhere that will take him

Anyone who’s been paying attention to the Braves this year has probably noticed that the team is operating on its usual Barves-ey cheapskate bullshit, picking up inexpensive castaways, cuts and releases from all the other teams in the league and trying to pawn them off like they’re the answers to the team’s woes and shortcomings.

However, the Braves have been pretty flagrant this year by picking up, almost exclusively, former players, with the hopes that the fans are as dumb as they hope they are (but surprisingly, aren’t) and put happy memories and false optimism on the obvious facts that these guys were all available because they’re not playing as well as they once did in a previous time, like 2021.  Eddie Rosario, Jorge Soler and Luke Jackson are some of the guys re-acquired by the team, with Rosario not only having been cut by the Braves, but he’s also, at the time of me writing this, just freshly cut from the Mets, after already being cut by the Nationals earlier in the year.

Soler hasn’t been terrible, but he also hasn’t been the World Series monster MVP he was in 2021, and Luke Jackson has been what he’s always been – a mediocre reliever, that no longer has Will Smith and a healthy Tyler Matzek and a pre-sucking AJ Minter to hide behind in the bullpen and is getting exposed as of late.  In other words, the Braves picked up mediocre product before the deadline and shouldn’t be surprised by getting mediocre return in investment.

But with the news of Jason Heyward’s release by the Dodgers, I feel like there’s no way in hell that I’m the only Braves fan whose blood went cold upon hearing it, because I think we all collectively knew the second we saw it, what some extreme cheapskate bean counters at The Battery were thinking when they saw it – pick ‘em up!

Believe me, Jason Heyward’s regular season debut on the Opening Day of 2010 is still one of the most magical sports memory I’ll ever have.  The super-typed 20-year old rookie phenom blasting a three-run home run in his very first at-bat against the Chicago Cubs is still stuff of legend, and having a monster rookie season, en route to being one of the core players of the organization for the next few years, all fantastic memories.

Heyward himself was always a stand-up player, a great role model for kids, and a guy that any organization would be happy to have.  I have no ill-will towards the man whatsoever, and I like him personally, but when it comes to his place currently as an active baseball player, I would rather the Braves not Barves, and pick him up, and try to convince fans that they can fix him back to being an All-Star, and insist on trotting him out on the regular, when the team is still somehow, miraculously in the thick of things when it comes to playoff position.

There’s a reason why the Dodgers released him, in favor of Chris Taylor of all people, and any contender like the Braves should probably think twice before considering picking him up, unless they want absolutely nothing but a 9th inning defensive replacement for a corner outfielder.

But I have this sinking feeling that the Braves aren’t going to listen to any logical arguments against Jason Heyward’s return to the team, and are going to be looking at dollar signs, exposure, newspaper articles and editorials about the prodigal son’s return home to Atlanta, and pick him up anyway soon.  The loss of Ronald Acuña, and the tumultuous health of Michael Harris II, outfield depth is stretched thin as it is, but Heyward’s .208 batting average this year really isn’t going to help out.

And these are the things that separate the Braves from being among the league’s elite, in spite of their general, miraculous on-field winning record.  I guess I should be fortunate that the organization continues to field a playoff-caliber team, but at the same time, I kind of wish they’d blow it all up, in order to build a World Series championship-caliber team, but I digress.

As much as I like and admire Jason Heyward the person, as a baseball player, his best years are long beyond him, and the further he stays away from the Braves, the better off the team will ultimately be.