I’ll let you in on a little secret, I always wanted to try youth baseball coaching. This is wild for me because 1) I’ve never played baseball outside of gym glass and 2) I find kids annoying most of the time. That said, it still rattles a bit in my head. Recently on the “In The Booth with Flobo Boyce” podcast, I sat with Brandon Fowler. This guy not only played the game, he, (as Trick Daddy once proclaimed) loves the kids! A baseball clinic that guided by faith, Brandon is committed to getting more inner-city youth to play the game.

Check out the full episode below:

Man, man, man. The Los Angeles Angels. Though I enjoy the occasional trek down to Anaheim to watch the game, the team has been in shambles for the better part of a decade. As of this writing, the team will miss the postseason for the 12th consecutive season. A literal masterclass in futility, the roster at one point had both Shohei Ohtani AND Mike Trout and had nothing to show for it. My friends that were Angels fans stopped coming to the games. The reason I was told was that as long as billboard magnate Arte Moreno owned the team, it didn’t make sense showing up. The stadium was in shambles (I suppose), the team was awful (true), and a far cry from where they stood twenty years ago, when they won the World Series in 2022. Last week, at least one of those things changed, as Arte Moreno had agreed in principle to sell the team to the dude collecting sports franchises like Thanos, Stan Kroenke:

So here’s the deal. As a Mets fan, it surprised me that there was a troubled baseball franchise where most people put the blame on one guy. And I’m not even talking about the fans. Even players weren’t the biggest fans of now-former owner Moreno. He was cheap, he was absent, he literally said winning wasn’t a priority. Nah, I’m not even making that last statement up:

It sucks because even though I kiiiiiind of understood what he was going for, it’s like “read the room man!” Guy is in a competitive league going “As long as everybody safe, I’m gucci…” Just wild.

Arte Moreno was the first Latino Major League Baseball owner in history, and took the franchise over from Disney, who essentially (like the Mighty Ducks before them) made them real-life franchises that had accompanying movies about them. Oh wait, you don’t remember “Angels in the Outfield?” The movie starring the guy from Looper who wished really hard for the Angels to win the pennant because he thought that would bring back his deadbeat dad? No?? It had the guy from Back to the Future, the homie from Lethal Weapon and Tony Danza in it.

Maybe I’m too old for this sh*t.

Again, to bring it back to the Mets for a second. Our kind of struggles are of a different breed. Have we won championships recently? No, but we’re willing to make changes. Over the past ten years, we’ve shipped players elsewhere, had a revolving door at General Manager, and most notably, we got a brand new owner in Steve Cohen. The Angels just had Arte, pulling the strings from his knockoff ivory tower. The saddest (or funniest) part of this whole selling-the-team ordeal is that everyone is relieved. EVERYONE. Mike Trout? That guy I mentioned earlier who was at one time the biggest and best name in all of baseball? The guy who committed to be an Angels player for presumably his whole career? Even he piled on:

Can you imagine being so bad at your job that EVERYBODY is glad you’re out that bish? This is wild. And here’s the thing, Stan Kroenke isn’t exactly a saint either. But people are like “Man, I’d rather rock with this guy!”

As much as their ballpark needs updating, the team needs updating, and the staff needs updating as well, there’s a quirky charm about heading to Anaheim for a game. There’s no superstar names (anymore) like the Dodgers, the stadium doesn’t do anything world class like San Diego, and there isn’t a loyal following of the team like San Francisco. Anaheim is just kind of there. It’s almost as if you wanted to be in “LA,” but wanted to see how a small college town did baseball, the Los Angeles Angels (and it’s basic food and rotting seats) was all that you needed. Now, looks like the sports world has had enough of that. They know that the days of affordable sports is pretty much going to be over under Stan Kroenke, but dangit, they wanted the old guy out.

Whatever I do in life, I hope I’m never that bad at my job, that people are like “bye loser,” when I OWN THE PLACE.

Sheesh.

If you knew me the years between 2022 and 2005, you’d know I had a one-track mind for a particular baseball quest. You know the one: Seeing all 30 Major League Baseball parks in the United States. TLDR: It was long, expensive, I’m glad I did it, but I’d probably never do it again.

Recently on my baseball culture podcast, “In The Booth with Flobo Boyce” (btw… if you haven’t already, you should REALLY check it out wherever you get your podcasts), I had the chance to sit with viral sensation Juan Mena. Juan — also a Mets fan, lezz gooo baby — recently completed his quest of seeing all 30. And while I’d admit my trip was really more of “this would be a cool experience,” Juan had a sense of gratitude about his journey that made me go back and think about whether or not I took enough time to smell the roses. You’ll love hearing why he decided to make the trip and what he overcame to do so. Check out the full video version of the chat here:

I grew up with Grand Theft Auto.

The first iteration I played, GTA 2, was such a fun romp of cruising through streets, blowing stuff up, and getting paid handsomely for it. The graphics were simple even back then, but there was something so freeing about being plopped into a city where crime had free rein and you had the opportunity to join in. In some ways, it was the American Dream, even though it was a game created by the Scottish.

I watched Grand Theft Auto grow from its humble beginnings to literally the biggest videogame in the world. A franchise so lucrative the previous iteration, Grand Theft Auto V, has made over TEN BILLION dollars. For comparison, the GDP of Montenegro or the Maldives. There should really be a case study about how such a niche idea for a game became a lynchpin of the global cultural fabric, but really we’ve seen this formula before with things like Hip-Hop and Nerd Culture:

Today, the game that’s been almost fifteen years in the making, Grand Theft Auto VI had a highly anticipated “Extended Look” debut on Netflix. Due out in November of this year, the game—whoa whoa. Did I just say that right? A video game had an extended trailer…on Netflix…? I’m not even lying, here. Here’s a trailer to that trailer released on YouTube.

And that’s the first thing that blew my mind away. Your boy is old enough to remember when games didn’t even HAVE trailers. Video game box arts did the heavy lifting to get you to buy a game. This is why those things used to have legit artists, obviously sketching like rent was due, trying super hard to get units sold. When Mega Man came out, I thought the dude came from He-Man’s planet ready to slice planets in half with his laser cannon:

The game?

Close enough.

As far as the extended trailer goes, it was great. While I worry that, in the pursuit of realistic graphics, we’re losing a bit of the over the top charm and irreverent humor that I love about the original games (and truthfully influenced my humor to this day), the game is beautiful. You don’t have to sell me on the idea, because it’s the same every time. It’s a story about a “regular criminal” who just wants a bigger piece of the tiny slice of pie society gives them. You play because you know crime doesn’t pay, but rather for some, it really DOES pay, and you’re dying to see what that feels like for you. I mean that was the whole vibe of the first trailer (which was released for free on YouTube, so you’re welcome).

And despite the leaks on the Netflix trailer that was released a couple of days earlier, the game is bound to make bank. But why do I feel so hollow about this? Don’t I want the game to do well? Perhaps I’m not necessarily jaded over the release of the game (i.e. content) but rather the cottage industry of those who react to content. Yes, I’m doing that right now as I type this, but I have seen think pieces, and reaction videos, and the memes already pop up. For the record, I’m not “anti” think pieces; I just feel there’s a rush to get them out, thereby making the thinking an afterthought.

Perhaps I’m just unc, and this is how it starts. Being excited, then being excited but having reservations, followed by lamenting for the good ol’ days, and then finally getting bitter. And while that may be the case, I’ll always have those GTA moments I’ll never forget: Cruising the streets of Vice City with the music blasting, heading to my friend’s house to play the original 3D game in GTA 3, beating my first GTA game in my overall favorite: The Ballad of Gay Tony:

Fun fact: This trailer made me a fan of Roxette. “She’s got the looooooook.”

It’s time for another edition of “Just The Sides,” the quick-hit stories that have been rattling around my desk the past couple of days. Unlike last time, I promise there’s no soccer on this go-round.

Connecticut Sun Enters Its Final Month

With it’s last regular season game on the docket for the end of September, the Connecticut Sun is gearing up to relocate to Texas to be the revived Houston Comets. And while it may seem that WNBA discourse has basically been reduced to a proxy war of American partisan politics, this is one story that really resonated with me. Why? I’m not so sure. I’ve must’ve seen one Connecticut Sun game in my life (save for the times they played my Liberty). “Connecticut Sun” sounds like a fake team you’d see in a movie. Like if I told you that the Sun were the new edition Flint Tropics, you’d probably believe me.

But maybe I’m just nostalgic for old teams, maybe the fact it’s branded as the “Sunset Season,” or maybe they are close to the bottom of the rankings, but it’s tearing me up a bit. And synchronized dance numbers. They always tear me up.

Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition Cancelled

Speaking of things that I didn’t really pay attention to that is making me sad, the sports show “Hockey Night in Canada: Punjabi Edition” is done after 18 seasons. In a sports world where teams are trying to appeal to as many people as possible (if for nothing but to open new revenue streams) the show’s cancellation was a shocking move for both Punjabi hockey fans and people like myself who just learned of its existence. It’s not just broadcasting a sport in another language/culture, but it’s showing young folks they have a path in broadcasting if they suck at actual physical activity like yours truly.

Also, click here if you’re into blooper reels.

The Mets Are… Electric?

Before settling on covering all of sports with a certain lens, this blog was tested as both a “baseball + wrestling” blog and a New York Mets blog, so it’s kind of funny I don’t talk as much as my boys as I normally do. The long and short of it is this: After a pretty much lost season, the New York Mets sold a bunch of pieces at the deadline. And in doing so, opened up a lot of slots to our new youth corps of players. In short, the team is hot (perhaps too late), but the actual flavor of baseball is fun! Possible Rookie of the Year candidate Carson Benge put in WORK the other night, throwing two assisted outs at home plate BACK to BACK against the Padres.

What a way to spoil the new Padres owners’ first game under their (conditional) control.

If the Mets win the World Series, they are going to have a Benge statue.

If you’re a friend of mine in real life (or IRL as the kids say), I’m going to apologize for this week’s sandwich in advance. Why? Because I’ve shoehorned what I’m about into talk about in about every conversation I’ve had about ‘global citizenry.’ The rest of you are in for a treat, I suppose. But not like a freshly baked good treat, more like that sticky strawberry bonbon that was in every grandma’s purse back in the day:

The world we live in is both big and small. It can take days to get from one side of the globe to the other, but at the same time you realize that most people on the planet want the same thing. Whether it’s the feeling of being safe, a healthy sense of community, gainful employment, or a place to blow your money on if you’re about that life, nobody is truly living different lives. And I feel retail stores and experiences kind of follow suit. I’ve been traveling “in earnest” since 2022, and I’ve seen a lot of things that a conspiracy theorist would believe prove we’re living in a simulation. American fast food chain Five Guys is in England, Japanese clothing brand Uniqlo is available in the United States, and Gucci is available in the United Arab Emirates. The days of going to a far-off land and bringing back something unique are getting more difficult when most things are indeed made in China. While that could put a damper on taking a slice of the world home with you, I’ve learned a workaround that I just love talking about: Sports Tourism.

The long and short of it is this: One year I was in the UK in a town called Bath, and all of the souvenirs in the city didn’t really speak to me. Nothing really looked like “I’ve been there.” I stumbled into the Bath Rugby club shop, and it hit me. Yes, team merchandise is also made abroad, but if you’re with a team small/unique/quirky enough, it more or less becomes a local purchase. Alternatively, if you visit the grounds of a team, it’s like you’ve stumbled across a living anthropological museum of a particular community. Since then I’ve traveled abroad and seen all 30 Major League Ballparks:

I actually had a similar experience on a recent trip to Madrid, Spain. Real Madrid is the global brand that was the long-term home of Cristiano Ronaldo, but I was immediately drawn to the crosstown rivals Atletico Madrid. Now, “Atleti” isn’t a small team by any means, but it is the one you don’t hear about as often, and as a Mets fan, I was instantly drawn to that second-team-in-town energy. What I got to see was a club that quietly (and sometimes loudly) really was a part of a city community for 100 years and really was an eye-opening experience about the layers of soccer in a given soccer town.

What I like about sports tourism is that you can either take it “really small,”. That is, maybe catching a game with a discount ticket. Or, you can go really “big” with it: hospitality suites, stadium tours, clearing out the merchandise stand, signing up to be in the fan club. Either way, you typically walk away with a localized experience around where you are.

I mean more or less. More and more we got these private equity firms ruining sport, but that’s another tale for another time. Indeed, majority owner of Atletico Madrid, Apollo Sports Capital, just signed on to be a minority owner of the New York Yankees so you can forget the image of a sole mom and/or pop running these things:

They don’t even look like my dad.

In either event, if you’re traveling into a new town and you have only a couple of days to spend. I recommend a four-prong approach: 1) a walking or guided tour to get the lay of the land 2) a touristy landmark/activity 3) a local landmark/activity and 4) a view of the local sports scene. I suppose you can swap the fourth one for music or “mAkInG nEw fRiEnDs,” but ugh, I’d never.

Who needs friends when you got signed Bon Jovi jerseys…?

I’ve realized perhaps too late in life that we gotta toot our horns more often. Why not tell the world of your greatness? Well, even though I’ve been a presenter and “content creator” for years, I can tell you its hard work. My experience in sports is growing, but going to events and hunting down interviews is something I still struggle with.

On a recent episode of the “In The Booth with Flobo Boyce” podcast, I had Samori Benjamin. Samori is a one-man outlet out of New York, and was on the front lines for the Knicks championship Run, the Mets…er…the opposite of whatever a championship run is, and more. Check out a past episode and be sure to subscribe to both the pod and this here bloggity blog.

I promise you, dear readers (all 100+ of you as of this week - THANKS), I didn’t mean for Just the Sandwich to be a soccer-only blog. I had all the plans in the world of making this week’s sandwich about my recent obsession with the Commonwealth Games. Stemming from my blurb about it last week, I’ve been obsessed with everything from the mascot, the fact that the original hosts in Victoria, Australia pulled out and Glasgow had to swoop in at the last minute, all the way to this cleaner guy getting some shine by shaking his ass:

Not bad for the former British Empire Games:

But no, this OTHER story had me stopping in my tracks. FIFA, that upstanding organization dedicated to the organic and fair growth of soccer (association football), is putting the World Cup on the market for investment.

The gist of it is this: FIFA has plans to spinoff its “commercial operations” of the World Cup, (that is, it’s development funds, revenue, television rights, etc.) into a separate entity called FIFA Forward Enterprises (FFE). This corporation would be open to investment like any other regular company. I don’t have to be a tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist to see what the problem here could be. The investment scheme won’t be open for you and me to invest $7 for funsies. No, only the guys with the biggest pockets are going to be qualified to join. And well, that could easily sway the largest international football competition into the hands of sovereign wealth funds, hyper-rich individuals, and everyone’s favorite Peace Prize winner, the Current President of the United States. From The Athletic (paywall):

Well, it’s too late to go back to the dancing cleaning guy now.

Anyway, the response was swiftly condemned. UEFA, the premier organization that oversees soccer in Europe, specifically had an emergency meeting where they said they are keen to pull European teams from participating from future World Cups if this FFE thing goes through.

You know it’s bad when corrupt organizations are calling out corrupt organizations because they are too gosh darn corrupt. This got layers like a Chris Nolan movie. CONCACAF, the similar group that is in charge of North American and Caribbean soccer, sided with UEFA, but like most things involving soccer in North America, nobody cared.

But what does that mean moving forward? Like if the idea of taking a World Cup (a tournament that has long left its humble beginnings and is getting larger and larger with each iteration) and making it investable doesn’t work out in its current form, is it cynical to believe a similar but more clandestine method to get the same result would come from this? In other words, what’s to stop FIFA to spin off ticketing, real estate, or in-game technologies into second-party companies and have people invest in those? Admittedly I’m speculating, but I also know that businesses get really clever when they want something and things get in their way.

Things like equity and fair play.

Can you have a World Cup without Europe (arguably the home to the world’s strongest teams) and North America (the region that is totally fine with paying through the nose for sporting events?) Hard to say, but I guess what I learned today is something I should know, but I always forget: Whether the former British one or not, “empires” always rule sport if you look hard enough.

That said, who wants to send me to the 2030 World Cup? Wheeeee!

Man, man, man. Whether or not you’re a football fan, a fan of spectacle, or just needed a quick and easy conversation topic over the past six weeks, the 2026 World Cup delivered. And the best part is, it wasn’t the only thing happening in the world of sports over the past week or so. It’s time for another roundup, or what I like to call, “Just The Sides.”

Aw dang, the President of the United States Thinks He’s on The Team.

You know that meme of the guy who pretends to stop a train? (Don’t worry, click here if you forgot). Well, it felt like Donald J. Trump was doing that this entire World Cup. Whether it was getting a red card reversed or “demanding” that the World Cup return to the USA soon (It will; there’s a reason why FIFA is burning through so many other locations; and USA fans are already used to paying high prices for tickets), Trump is doing whatever he can to earn his “Peace Prize.” Nothing can top what he did at the World Cup Final, however. Spain, after winning a battle against a really underhanded Argentina side, was all set to lift the Cup. But the WWE Hall of Famer himself couldn’t get out of the shot.

Whoops, wrong video:

Ah yeah, that’s the stuff. I bet the Mexican President and Canadian Prime Minister (you know, the other host heads of state) were laughing their asses off.

Oh Yeah, Resize It!

There were a bunch of stories from the World Cup I actually liked. Whether it was the rise of Vozinha, or the fact the world fell in love with Erling (Braut) Haaland (Come on, City!), there was one campaign I really loved. It involved the Colombian national team and Cerveza Aguila. A marketing campaign for the ages, Aguila helped subsidize the cost of expensive soccer jerseys if fans were willing to have the front chest sponsor logo as large as they could stand it.

Oddly, the big logo actually slaps.

Kick Back With A Cold One, and a WNBA Game

Despite the fact that conservatives have latched on to Caitlin Clark and Sophie Cunningham as the prototypical Great White Hope against the ‘thugs’ of normal competition, the WNBA is as hot as ever. And when you’re hot, what better way to cool down than with a brewski? Former player Tina Charles launched her own beer from her 78 Brewing Company this week. From Brewhound:

I’ll have to try this.

The Sports World Plays On

And lastly, if you’re all about seeing the world continue to jockey for athletic dominance, it’s both the Central American and Caribbean Games as well as the Commonwealth Games times. And if you’re like me, and have ties to a Caribbean nation that was at one point a part of the Commonwealth, you’re ready to pull double duty. Can we talk about the mascot for the Commonwealth Games though? She’s adorable!

Take that, GEORGE!

For every baseball fan, seeing the MLB All-Star Game has to be on your bucket list. For me, I’ve gone back and forth between “nah, can’t afford it” and “that would be pretty cool,” but the idea is always top of mind. Whether you’re a fan of the “Just Had To Have Been There, Chump!” flow or love how one city becomes a global baseball festival, there’s always a bit of a buzz around All-Star Game time. Plus, baseball has one of the remaining true all-star formats, so they have that going for them too.

This writer got to be credentialed press (through my affiliation with the Black Baseball Mixtape), and I got to see what All-Star week was for the first time ever. Well, sort of. For a bunch of logistical reasons I won’t get into here (lemme just say Unlimited PTO isn’t truly unlimited, y’all), I got to experience two nights of ancillary events and festivities. By the time people were trying their hand at the ASG foodie lineup, I was on a plane back to reality. Indeed, the game is going to feature one food item from every other team in baseball, including this mama jama from Kansas City that can be only described as a “Hot Dog Wellington.”

So the first thing you need to know is that the town has people ready for baseball stuff like the week before anything starts. And Major League Baseball did the admittedly savvy thing by having it in Philadelphia during America’s 250th birthday. If you don’t like the color off-white/parchment or think Ben Franklin is overrated, TOO BAD, because you’re gonna see those dudes everywhere! It was actually my second time in Philadephia, with my first being an awful cautionary travel tale about being in a city for a full day without a place to rest or take a nap. This time was better and I got the opportunity to experience city history to boot.

I got to learn about Octavious V. Catto for the first time. Catto, a staunch civil rights activist who fought for the voting rights of black people, was also an avid cricket and baseball player. I mean, I should’ve known this, I was there:

True story.

Also, I got to visit the All-Star Village. Which, while it’s less a village and more of a giant convention and expo space complete with activations from cool brands and other brands you couldn’t care less about, it was the first time I saw one that was exclusively about baseball.

Then there was the MLB Draft. Not sure if MLB needs a draft in the vein of other sports like football and basketball, but I’ve got to say that I was there. And the HBCU Swingman Classic was the first time I got to see the culture come out en masse. Yes, there was my experience at the Rickwood game in 2025, but this was another level.

I’ve learned I’m terrible at getting selfies and asking famous people for said selfies. Interviewing celebs in a podcast environment? Fine. People chasing me down because I’m the celebrity in a given situation? Great. Me running down former players, and begging them to answer Mount Rushmore questions and ask for a picture? The worst. Which sounds noble as I type this, but I also realize in both baseball content (and wrestling content before that) that I’m pretty much invisible. I felt like Bizarre in that D12 video: (3:54 mark)

Next week my LinkedIn post is going to be: What Philadelphia Taught Me on How to Brag More.

Either way, it was an experience and it felt great to see everything. And even though I’m going to be home when the main events are happening (the Home Run Derby just concluded as I type this), I am already looking forward to next year. Or at least the next event.

Be sure to check out the Black Baseball Mixtape for more MLB All-Star, baseball, and softball coverage.

MLB All-Star Game is here and my thoughts on the USMNT Red Card suspension fallout. It’s the podcast you never asked for, “The Sandwich.”

See that flag up there? That’s Old Glory. 50 stars, 13 stripes, and a whole lot of at-tit-tude. The American Flag means a lot of things to a lot of people, and yes, it can mean a lot of things to a single person given the context, but there’s one thing you can’t deny: It’s everywhere. It’s a flag almost nobody would have trouble identifying. A global symbol that is right up there with Coca-Cola and Beyoncé.

In 2026, the United States (this humble writer’s country of origin) is having its semiquincentennial birthday this weekend, and it seems everyone is all about celebrating the fact that America is 250 years old. Well, not average citizens. We stopped keeping track after 200 and probably will not tap back in until 300, but everybody else.

And look, there was a draft of this post where I was going to talk about how hard it is to appreciate the American flag as a minority sometimes. Like, I’m 100% American-born, but the guys and gals who really fly the flag (like reaaaaally fly the flag) are typically in another walk of life. And I could lament that a symbol for freedom for all is sometimes used for literally the opposite, but then I realized that’s another post for another time. Why?

Because it’s RED WHITE AND BLUE in YO FACE this year, BABY!

For example, Major League Baseball releases caps for Independence Day. Have you seen this year’s edition?

Ugh.

It looks like somebody is going to be making hot dogs in that thing. And that USA patch? Yikes. You know, speaking of America 250. I didn’t realize this, but Congress had a whole plan for the year with festivals, firework shows, and all that. Will I go? Probably not. To be fair, I didn’t even go to the “White House” sponsored Freedom 250 American State Fair Festival either.

But I digress.

Major League Baseball decided to have its All-Star Game in Philadelphia this year. And best believe everything is going to be adorned in red, white, and blue. General Mills has gone so all out, they have a whole line of star-spangled snacks.

Cadillac Formula 1 Team, the newest team in the circuit and a car that’s usually in black and silver, brought out a special edition colorway. And while it looks like something Steve Rogers would commute to work with if he didn’t want to walk, it has presence.

I’m sorry, did you want something cheesier? Well, America 250 has its own line of MERCH. I mean, I also have my own LINE of MERCH, but I’m a nation of one. Anyone remember back in the day we used to pile into an Old Navy every July 3rd because they had American Flag t-shirts for $4? Well, bump that, George the Star is gonna be the centerpiece of your new fit:

This Independence Day weekend, make you celebrate responsibly. Despite a lot of things, the USA is (at least in theory) all about freedom and liberty (and justice?) for all. So raise a glass, and pop a Toaster Strudel with a friend. If not, George is gonna come for you!

Whether you like baseball or not, I recommend you giving my podcast, “In The Booth with Flobo Boyce” a try. The “human interest” side of baseball, the show sits down with the people that support the sport in their own way. In The Booth is part of the Black Baseball Mixtape platform.

Recently I sat down with “Big Man, Tiny Mic” himself, Don Dishes to chat about what it means to be a part of Seattle’s baseball culture story. He’s provided music cues for the Mariners and is a current podcaster and content creator as well.

Among other things, we’re going to find out why that mic of his is so tiny.

Last week, I had made this whole thing about this edition of the World Cup not “feelin’” regal like World Cups past. And sure, that could still be the case, but I also said a lot of stuff went by the wayside when the matches actually started. We’re approaching the first full week of matches, and already, it has been one of the more dissected sports tournaments of all time. Whether you’re upset like most of the world over “mandatory hydration breaks,” upset that Alexi Lalas gets to represent American soccer punditry, or proud of 40-year-old Cabo Verde goaltender Vozinha giving the performance of his life, this WC has something for everyone.

But to me, there’s so much whimsy going on in 2026, I have to share with you some of my favorites.

First off, there is the FIFA Merchandise. To me, it felt like these things just showed up overnight at places you expect (sporting goods stores), places that make sense (7-Eleven), and places I didn’t see coming at all. Southern California Goodwill has all but leaned in and made it into a capsule collection. But I have to give a special shout-out to the official FIFA merch website itself. Even though it sells the jerseys of (a little more than half?) of the teams, they also have host city-specific merchandise that looks absolutely bonkers. I mean, look at this “jersey” for Miami:

Yeah, let me get this one size too small and hit the club with this on. The ladies would love that.

Also, you can’t talk about the World Cup without talking about the newest member of the Democratic Republic of the Congo’s official delegation, Lumumba Vea. Lumumba Vea is a “living statue” portrayed by Michel Kuka Mboladinga as the late DRC statesman Patrice Lumumba. Heavy on the living statue.

Now, as of this writing, DRC draw Portugal 1 -1 but Lumumba Vea was NOT there. Why? Because it wouldn’t be a North American World Cup without visa issues. Mboladinga has been denied entry into the United States due to concerns over Ebola in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Which is a shame, because best believe I would root for the guy that would force an entire continent to look up who Patrice Lumumba was.

And lastly one of my favorite things to actually get the chance to happen is Scotland’s Tartan Army runs roughshod over Boston.

The Scotland national team had its first games in Boston this tournament. This has meant that Scotland has annexed the city for over two weeks and they are having the time of their life.

You see what happens when you like people wear their tartans, FIFA?

I actually had the chance to go to a Scottish (sigh, Scottish-American) watch party this past weekend. My room wasn’t hype at all, but the Scottish people on the TV screen were having the time of their lives. My favorite anecdote of the Bos-Scots? These people had completely tapped the city’s beer supply. From ESPN:

These are my people. I said it before on social, and I’ll say it here: I nominate the Scots to be Earth’s ambassadors when the aliens land. They’ll be in for a time!

If you’re a person that doesn’t consider themselves a “sports person,” well I (personally) got some bad news for you. Sports headlines dominated pop culture this week and for good reason. And while I didn’t finally man up and try out for my local rugby team (yet…), there were a few occasions where I felt the “athletic spirit.” It’s time for another round of sides!

The World Cup Is Here…Whether You Like It Or Not

The World Cup is promised to be a giant global party every four years. Even if you can’t stand soccer, I bet you can stand communal watch party experiences, frivolous overpriced merchandise, and unhealthy patriotism. I know I do! The thing is, the vibe going into the 2026 edition was that this World Cup was bound to miss the mark. Whether you hated the FIFA genuflecting or the terrible theme songs, there was something that was putting a bad taste in everyone’s mouths. Then the Opening Ceremonies started, and people promptly stopped caring. That’s the thing about international competitions: we complain until we start seeing flags. For those asking, I’m rooting for the United States, but I got my eye on Scotland and the smallest country in the tourney in Cabo Verde. This World Cup is like going to your friend’s birthday brunch. You dread going, and despite some minor inconveniences when you’re there, it ends up being a good time.

Everybody Loves Those Knicks

Even if you don’t watch the NBA, the New York Knicks have been all over your screen. Why? Well, let me count the ways. Firstly, a lot of the normal NBA Finals players aren’t in the mix this year (No LeBron, No Steph, No KD), so it’s already a fresh match-up with New York taking on the Spurs. Speaking of the Spurs, the last time the Knicks were in the NBA Finals (1999), they lost to the Spurs so there’s a whole revenge arc there. Knicks star Jalen Brunson, who was newly minted the Knicks captain this season, is (as of this writing) one win away from bringing a basketball championship back to New York since 1973. Add in the President of the United States making an inexplicable appearance and the professional wrestler Danhausen cursing other teams and you’ve got yourself a party!

And while I’m torn on the Knicks run this season (TLDR: I was a Knicks fan as a kid, the 1999 loss turned me away from basketball entirely, got back into the NBA over a decade later when the Nets moved to Brooklyn, and now it doesn’t feel right to claim Knicks fandom anymore), what they’ve done is made the NBA fresh and exciting. They are a physical team, featuring guys signed to lengthy deals, that are playing out of their minds. Their Game 4 effort, in which they overcame an over 20+ point deficit to win the whole shebang is the stuff of legends.

Sports Resort is BACK! (In Switch Form!)

When the original Nintendo Wii released a game called “Sports Resort,” I thought it was shovelware. You mean to tell me a game system where I can play Mario Kart has a random game where I pretend to play sports with motion controls? LAME. But I’ll never forget how the block would just pile into someone’s room to play that thing. One time my former sister-in-law called me up and literally say “You wanna play some Ghetto Olympics?” and I knew EXACTLY what she meant. The good folks at Nintendo have dropped the news that the sequel is coming this fall on the Nintendo Switch 2 console. They even dropped a trailer:

Wait, I know they couldn’t call it jetskiing but “Power Cruising?” That’s a new one.

Wait. Now that I think of it, maybe I can use this for my rugby training regimen. What do you say?

It’s a pretty lazy Friday afternoon here at the Sandwich offices. My co-worker sent me a four-hour-long breakdown of the history of Tyler Perry movies and, to be honest with you, my mind has been blown ever since. (You can check it out here, if you like.) So blown, that the news that came out of Chicago almost went under my radar. It’s been made official: The Chicago Bears have let the world know that they are looking to build their next stadium in Hammond, Indiana. And while the team name “Indiana Bears” sounds more like a youth soccer team, the franchise will still hold on to the Chicago nameplate.

Here’s what happened. The Chicago Bears played at Soldier Field. It was open-air and deathly cold, but it had a rugged cool factor because it was as tough as Chicago itself. The infrastructure was aging, but more importantly for football ownership, the luxury suites and experiences were falling behind. Because like have said a bunch of times on this blog, “big fans” don’t pay the bills for teams: luxury-seeking VIPs and groups do.

The team and Chicago went round and around (and around). The Bears wanted The City of Chicago to foot the bill, and Chicago said they weren’t in a position to throw a large chunk of change at a sports team. Any town knows its sports offerings are part of its culture, but also know that taxpayers are going to grumble if they have to pay for it. (While at the same time, upset if a team ups and leaves. Don’t believe me? Ask an Oakland, CA sports fan)

But Hammond, some 22 miles away from the Chicago city core, says a lot about sports today. To be clear, this isn’t like a team moving for another city entirely (Hammond is in the Chicago TV area, anyway), but when I think about “world-class” football, I’m not thinking about The Hoosier State. And why do I say “world-class” with the quotes? Well…

Let me stop you right there. Is there something that is so often said, but provides such minimal value as “world-class?” World-Class, and it’s lame af, cousin “best-in-class,” are everywhere in corporate marketing materials but tell me exactly nothing about anything. Have you ever gone to a restaurant and the food was so good you came out and said: “Dang, that was world-class!” Have you ever seen a world-class movie? Worn a pair of world-class underwear? What does it mean?!

Who cares, I guess. Because a football team that woven itself into the fabric of a city is itself movin’ up out of the hood. And that is the other issue here, for me at least. What is in a city name? For as long as I’ve been alive, New York Football teams have played in New Jersey, but we don’t think of the Giants or Jets as anything but New York teams. “The San Francisco 49ers play farther from the city they’re named after than any other NFL team, with their home games held at Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, roughly 40 miles from San Francisco. But if you allow me to be cynical about it all, between social media and the rush to make global (world-class?) brands, the name of the actual city hasn’t been this relevant in my lifetime.

Sure, you may find a New York Yankees cap on the head of a Japanese national while they are riding the train in Argentina, but that used to be few and far between. With locations not even being literal, I wouldn’t be surprised that one of two things happens: 1) we’re fine with traveling hours across state lines to see local teams, or 2) teams won’t officially carry location names at all. Sort of like how the former Oakland Athletics and future Las Vegas Athletics are currently playing in Sacramento, CA, as—you guessed it—”The Athletics.”

The move is a bummer, man. Because I’m sure Hammond, Indiana, is nice, what it really is doing is overtly saying that the Chicago Bears brand is okay with leaving its gritty “team of the people” persona behind. It’s interesting because usually winning teams get to do that, not “‘Da Bears!” Do you and your friends want to pay $150 to be in the seats so high you can hi-five ET? Get ready to rent a car or pay for an Uber, buddy. This eventual stadium, if built, will be yet another example of a country club for haves (but not the have-nots), while a game happens in the background. How many places on earth are going to serve the same rubber chicken and stuffed peppers in the exec lounges?

No, really. It’s all the same:

Now that’s world-class.

The older I get, the more I’m becoming comfortable with my heritage(s). Call it a mix of being more true to self and being perhaps not as jazzed to say that I’m “just” an ‘MURICAN these days, but exploring what makes me…well, me, has been a trip. After an 18-year hiatus, for example, I started visiting Barbados again. Even got my citizenship of descent confirmed and scored a passport.

But exploring and leaning into my Scottish side was a recent development. Though I am legit Scottish on my dad’s side, Alba has been part of my mother’s story as well, following a stint living in Stirling. In recent years, I’ve attended Burns Suppers, walked the streets of Glasgow, and purchased a kilt of my affiliated clan, Clan Forbes.

So when the annual Orange County Scottish Festival rolled around, I decided to check it out. I didn’t quite know what to expect, being my first Scottish (American) Culture Festival. Was it going to be a giant family reunion? Was it going to be a bunch of cosplayers reciting Braveheart? Was it going to be just a re-skinned county fair with a couple of highland games and “Slàinte mhaths” thrown in for good measure? The answer is it’s all of that, and that’s okay. I can’t expect to be transported to the world of Outlander by way of Costa Mesa, California.

So for a couple of hours, I walked the grounds. Between checking out overpriced merch, drinking some of the beers and whiskies that were brought in for the event, and listening to some of the pan-Celtic bands, I was in the mood well enough. I headed down Clan Row, where there were a bunch of clans with their own tents up, looking to educate others about their collective histories. Sadly, Clan Forbes was nowhere to be found, but what I did find was a bit of an adventure. You see that elder gentleman in the pic at the top of this article? That’s Dan Murray and he’s the West US representative of Clan Kerr.

I met Dan Murray when I walked past the Clan Kerr tent, a tent which featured a banner that asked: “Are You Left Handed?” Curious, and because I had time to kill between my next round of beers, I walked inside, where Dan met me with a warm left-handed handshake. After a few pleasantries, he regaled me with stories of Clan Kerr and how they actively recruited left-handed warriors for defense purposes. Basically, left-handed swordsmen had a distinct advantage in battle, and so Clan Kerr would be the spot if you were a southpaw:

I thought it was super cool.

Dan continued on to say that in about thirty minutes, or so, there was to be a clan parade, where all the clans would be able to walk the grounds with a banner of their crest. While he was rarin’ to go, he wondered if he’d have the stamina to complete the walk with the banner held high. He asked whether—since I was left-handed—I would walk with Clan Kerr just for that day, and, if he got tired, would I be able and willing to raise the banner for a portion of the journey. And with that request, he gave me a plastic sword from a novelty bin and requested I hold it in my left hand.

Now, usually I would decline such a bonkers life side-quest. But I’m not sure if it was because my own clan didn’t show up or this felt like an episode out of the lamest fantasy novel of all time, but I said yes: Your boy Flobito was going to be a Kerr for a Day.

For those wondering, Dan lifted that banner high the entire march, at his own pace. We caused a bit of a log jam towards the end of it, but Kerr’s family motto is “Sero Sed Serrio” or “Late, but in earnest,” so it was kind of fitting.

And so, with my march over with and my tour of service over, I offered back my plastic sword, but I was told to keep it. And even though the march wasn’t a real battle to say the least, I did think about what it must have been like to fight alongside another clan for some reason or another back in ancient times. I didn’t buy much merchandise (that I couldn’t drink, heyoooo) at the festival, but I made a point to buy two fridge magnets of both “my” clan crests.

And if you’re wondering, ain’t no way would I do those highland games. My lower back would call out sick the night before to save itself the trouble.

Dear readers, I type this week’s edition of the Sandwich at the airport in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, between sessions of answering work email and wondering what action items I can procrastinate from completing from those emails. On my phone, I got the latest New York Mets highlights going on, making sure I stay in the loop. It hits me: I haven’t been to a day game in forever, and I should probably fix that. Then I go back to thinking about my emails, and the idea fizzles.

Well, if you’re a remote worker like me, you should rejoice! The San Diego Padres (a team that I personally have grown to thoroughly dislike over the years), has become the latest franchise to incentivize working stiffs like you and me to “work” at the ballpark. And while the idea of looking down at a laptop in the stands while the thought of baseballs whizzing by in the stands at 101 mph can be concerning for some, know that distractions and being assaulted by baseballs are part of the history of the sport.

I still love the idea, though.

Day games in baseball are becoming increasingly rare these days. Seventy years ago, games were played almost exclusively under sunlight, but that’s changed with the rise of prime time television and making sure more working people can attend games. Day games are usually in two categories: The lazy weekend games that allow families to bring the kids and grandparents to the park early enough to have the rest of their day to themselves, or “getaway games” that usually relied upon church groups, students, and diehard fans to fill seats.

And for those wondering, they are called getaway games because the early start times allow teams more time to travel out of town to the next series of games. Or as I like to think of them, “This town sucks… I’m out of here!” Games

But if you want to fill a couple of extra seats during the week, you’d be hard-pressed to do worse than the in-over-their-head salaryman who takes comfort in the small escapes in life. These schlubs aren’t going to make it to a week-long trip to Tahiti, but 2.5 hours tasting artisan popcorn and handcrafted hot dogs? Well, that’s a slice of vakay most people would be okay with.

The bigger thing for me is that attending sports has always been about the shared experience, right? In soccer, you cheer on in supporter groups. In football (Americano), it’s all about bringing the boys out to the gridiron. The rise of the kiss cam shows that there’s at least an acknowledgment of couples, right?

But days dedicated to remote working while a game is happening in the background is peak solo-sports, enjoyer. And while I enjoy a dope “Table for one, please” when I go out to eat, I wonder if that sort of single-person experience should be looked into more during sporting events. Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles sometimes open up their suites and allow individuals and small groups to occupy these rooms that were designed for up to 20. Some ticket sites are now allowing individual ticket sales to games. And yes, I know that sounds weird, but sometimes you’re not allowed to buy single tickets because of…reasons…

But good on the San Diego Padres, though. While remote work can be a rather dreary existence, giving people an option for a third space ever so often is cool. I felt like ten years ago, you could just go to a coffee shop. And now? Coffee shops go out of their way to make sure you don’t hang around.

But sports? Sports never let you down.

Lemme circle back and ping you later or something.

My parents weren’t ones to take me to many live sporting events when I was a kid. Back then, I chalked it up to being strict, but as an adult, I realized that both mom and dad were a lethal combination of frugal and serial homebodies. So when I got the chance to pay my own way to see live games, I wanted to take in the whole experience. I had my paper tickets printed, I bought the souvenir cups, and best believe I got the biggest burger I could get my hands on. It was a means to an end for sports teams at the time. If people are fed, they are happy. Options were limited, but you could get a meal for a reasonable price. These days, that’s not the case. With a mix of inflation, teams maximizing profits, and “premium foodie offerings,” the cost of food and drinks is anything but reasonable.

Even though I cover sports for outlets such as the Black Baseball Mixtape, I typically feed myself on my own dime. And I know I’m a captive audience at some of these games, but I’ll be out here in these streets feeling like a jerk when I’m scrolling my bank statement the next day. $85 on food and drinks? Where the hell did I go last night? Nobu?? And yes, you can be that guy who shows up to events with the ziploc bags of peanuts or a sock full of raspberries, but like that sort of thing never worked for me. I’m trying to see athletes dominate athletes in the gladiator pit of sports combat, not pack a picnic on a Tuesday night.

And it’s not just sports food that’s becoming pricey, it’s fast food and groceries too. You can’t discount macroeconomic factors. I get that. But sports concessions are a whole different beast altogether. It’s this tone-deaf space where ballparks are increasingly comfortable in charging someone $8 for a bottle of water, while at the same time offering “value packs” to get thrift-minded families through the door. There’s also this weird obsession, especially among Major League Baseball teams, to try to out “carnival food” each other:

You don’t even have to click that video to see that there’s a bucket of chicken tenders and fries on a souvenir PLASTIC BOAT. Why?? Will anyone use that boat after the game? Is that going to go into the cupboard with the good china, only to make an appearance on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day? The Chicken Ferry…my word.

Check out the numbers:

The average price of a beer is over $7 at MLB games, which kind of goes hand-in-hand with how much I’m paying for a gallon of gas living in Los Angeles. And then you hear about a footlong hot dog, or a Triple Stacked Cheeseburger for $43 dollars, and you wonder what the heck is going on? Oh, and I’m not even kidding about that last part either (h/t @respectthechain):

So now you’ve got food that’s obviously been designed to NOT be eaten! And at $43, you have to wonder, would it ever be worth it? Like, have you ever craved something from a sporting event? No, I don’t mean like you went inside, tried something, and went “dang, that’s pretty good.” I mean, you being at home on a Friday night telling yourself, “I’m okay with dropping $40 for parking and a ticket, because I could REALLY go for a sandwich the size of a bowling ball.”

And I totally understand that I’m approaching “old man yells at cloud” status here, but I wonder and/or worry about the next generation. With everything costing more, more barriers to entry via hospitality packages, a generation okay with catching up with clips on their phones, and entertainment itself being commoditized (Why pay $100 for comedy show tickets if you can get stand-up with your Netflix subscription?), the fans in the stands may look very different over time. Fewer enthusiasts, more of the country club set. See and be seen. Have an overpriced cocktail. Enter through this line that separates you from the riffraff. Please take this Chicken Tender Ferry, you’ve earned it.

Maybe I was a bit too hard on the picnic people after all. They were the real ones the whole time.