Most of you know that I have another (senior) media platform called Knew Amsterdam Radio. You haven’t? Well, it’s just the best dang podcast ever:

When Knew Amsterdam (as a brand) was launched, I had big plans. The original investment (somewhere between $4-7K) was but a small price to pay to see my vision of a lifestyle brand for creatives come to life. There was going to be premium stationery, and top-shelf luggage and travel goods. There would be Knew Amsterdam-branded travel guides and curated roadtrip-worthy music playlists. And to make a long story short, all that didn’t happen. What I ended up with was an award-winning podcast, and a nominal sponsorship of an esports racing team.

And why don’t we have all the other things? Because the money DRIED UP. Can’t do anything without the cash, and Knew Amsterdam had to pivot. The thing is LIV Golf, the upstart golf league, doesn’t really have “just start a podcast, bro” as an option.

LIV Golf, a golf league that was positioned as both an alternative and competition to the incumbent PGA Tour, has had a tumultuous history. I’ll spare you all the details, but it’s like this: LIV Golf, heavily sponsored by the Saudi Government (via their PIF, or ‘Public Investment Fund’), came out of seemingly nowhere a couple of years ago, signing away players from the PGA Tour. For a while, LIV looked unstoppable because it looked like they had a blank check from a government that is down to throw LOTS of money at sports projects, for better or worse. But now? No more:

The fact that the above video is NINE MINUTES long should let you know how dire this is. Also, if you watch the clip, can you tell me what happened? I don’t have time for all that video golf content. Honestly, on the golf side of things, there’s just going to be years of awkward exchanges. LIV looks likely to collapse, and all those players who signed to the now dead league would have to basically go back to the PGA Tour on their knees for a gig. Wrestling fans have seen this happen plenty of times. Rinse and repeat.

But there’s a bigger story here. (At least for me, anyway)

Saudi Arabia pulling out from LIV is only one example of the PIF pulling away from sports wholesale. Maybe there are other investments to be had, or maybe the world has become so cynical that they realize ‘sportswashing’ when they see it. (For the record, I see this sort of thing coming a mile away, but I’m also the guy who flew out to Australia to see a WWE show). Golf.com explains:

PIF Governor out here sounding like me after a weekend in Vegas. “I had some fun, and I knew how much those cocktails were going to cost at the time, but now that I am back home, I can concentrate on purchasing store-brand snacks and reacclimating to one-ply toilet paper.” This shift in portfolio does feel really “We’re not ‘out on the street,’” broke, but a ‘why did we think investing in the golf equivalent to Pepsi was a good idea?’

There’s also the question of whether Saudi Arabia is going to renew their partnership with WWE in the wake of next year’s WrestleMania being in Riyadh, but this post already has too many wrestling references.

The Saudi finances are still pretty strong, despite the liquidity crunch it’s experiencing now. And for what it’s worth, LIV is focused on trying to find new investors, as evidenced by appointing new executives to top positions in an attempt to right the ship. If there’s one thing I’m learning running this blog is that investing in sports scratches a certain itch for the wealthy, but it is incredibly hard to come out of it unscathed. Either you burn cash, fans and critics want you gone, or withdraw to the point of being deemed a recluse. When the largest economy in the Middle East is ready to pivot away and put its money elsewhere, it really puts things into perspective. Maybe sports investment is as risky as playing the actual lottery. Maybe, just maybe, it’s more often than not a sound investment.

But then, seeing your name out there is pret-tee cool. OK, you’ve twisted my arm. I’m booking that Vegas trip. What could go wrong?

Man, man, man.

By the time this sandwich goes live, we will have been a couple of days removed from the 41st edition of WWE’s WrestleMania, a division of TKO Group Holdings. While I assure you there were millions that enjoyed the spectacle (as they should), I had never quite come across a WrestleMania that was so universally panned for various reasons. Whether you felt the tickets were too high for entry, or thought the storylines were non-existent for the most storyline-based event of the year, or maybe thought the event itself didn’t deliver, this week has been rife with “thinkpieces” about what went wrong. If you want my opinions on them, I’ll try to be brief:

Tickets are way too expensive yes, but the people complaining the most would be the people who would complain if the tickets were free. The roster is the most athletic, but the stories were thin. And truly, because WWE has elevated all of their “Premium Live Events,” WrestleMania is struggling to stand out as ‘The Grandest Stage of them All.’ Why would fans go to Vegas if, for a couple of dollars more (or less), I can see an event in Europe, or a once-a-year specialty match?

Ooh, how Parisian!

The fact of the matter is, professional wrestling is changing. And I just don’t mean WWE, but they are the group that’s changing the most. Gone are the days of wrasslin’ being a family-friendly traveling human circus for middle and working class families. The kind of entertainment you’d sheepishly say you brought the kids to because they got good grades. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and professional wrestling was allowed to continue because it was (checks notes) considered an essential business… (Yeah, that actually happened), everyone in entertainment saw dollar signs. Wrestling was cheap entertainment to fill a TV schedule before then, but now? Wrestling was big business.

You want a sports-like product that draws the best kind of fans? And by best, I mean people willing to buy loads of tickets and merch because they feel that they are part of the counterculture? You want a brand that doesn’t take weeks off, has no off-season, and travels the world? You want an environment you can script so in theory you won’t have the sports equivalent of “boring games” or “blowouts?” Do you really want to put more logos on ring mats? Well, you’re in luck!

WWE got bought over, and while production elements have been improved, it’s been one perceived “cash grab” after another. Though I don’t get the hate around a cash grab, because that’s a business’s sole purpose for existing. And so, you saw more expensive merch, you saw logos everywhere, you see shows with 4-10 minute long ad breaks. WWE is going to Italy this year, and for $13,000, they are doing a pasta making class with the talent!

So, between the lack of shareable stories, the price of tickets, the attempts to “elevate the experience” with something I buy for $1.19 a box is all the rage, it’s enough for you to be over it.

Enter Brock Lesnar Vs. Oba Femi

Brock Lesnar was literally known as “The Next Big Thing” when he debuted in WWE. One of the youngest to win the WWE championship, his sabbaticals in both the NFL and MMA gave his wrestling work an air of credibility we really hadn’t seen since Ken Shamrock. He also had this unfortunate trend of dominating black wrestlers in the ring, which kind of added to his lore. There was Kofi Kingston, Big E, Bobby Lashley, Omos… the list went on. Among the Internet Wrestling Community, it had become a bit of a joke.

Oba Femi, like Lesnar, was a character who had skyrocketed in fan support seemingly overnight. The first NIL signing from WWE, Oba Femi, instantly became one of the megastars of the NXT developmental brand. Unapologetically Nigerian in presentation, his “death march” to the ring has fans doing it all over the world:

The match those two had at WrestleMania snapped me back into what WrestleMania used to be. In fact, I’m glad this match was on the card because I thought I was just getting old and not being with the times, but Brock vs. Oba was a reminder that were ways to give us the old school WrestleMania vibes without being dated. This was an ATTRACTION MATCH. Just two mountains of men, just deciding to fight. Not much story on the surface but the implied story was there. Brock, a dominant figure in his late 40s, was essentially on his home court. Aging, but always finding a way to dispatch is opponent. Oba, an outsider with a vaguely royal presentation who feels like he’s related to Black Panther’s M’Baku, is the outsider with the support of the people behind him, even though he doesn’t necessarily embrace it. This was American Kabuki theater. This was our theater in the round. This was…as Big E would say…”big meaty men slapping meat.”

And I realized, THAT’s what WrestleMania was all about. Sure, there’s matches and celebrities somehow getting booked to be in matches, but what I missed was the spectacle. We’re missing the kind of thing that makes you go, “Did you see that well-designed stage?” Or, “Omg, that debut/return was something unexpected.” In WWE’s defense, they did try for the latter. But a match that has an immediate story for newer fans, but a bigger, IMPLIED story for long term watchers? That’s the sweet spot, and when it happens. It’s magic. Oh, and for the match itself?

Oba crushed Brock, and Brock went up and retired.

Let’s go! One for the brothers!

I love pretending I’m a General Manager of a sports team. I’ve mentioned this a bunch of times, but I do play “Out of the Park Baseball,” in which you pretend to be a General Manager (and make all the decisions regarding) a baseball team. There was a recent episode of my podcast—Knew Amsterdam Radio—where I got to speak to the GM of the hockey team Kalamazoo Wings in Toni Will:

But recently on my baseball culture podcast, “In the Booth with Flobo Boyce,” I got to sit with Minor League Baseball General Manager Allan Benavides. Allan, tasked with leading brand new LA Dodgers affiliate, The Ontario Tower Buzzers to instant glory has been a great story to see unfold in real time. On one hand it’s a clean slate to build a culture, but on the other hand you’re in the organization that prides itself on instant excellence.

Take a look at my interview and watch me ask him those burning baseball questions:

By the by, thank you so much for filling out the first major survey in JTS history. Greatly appreciated!

The other day, I was walking down the street wearing my Just The Sandwich merch, and boy, did I look cool. Somebody walked over asked me about this here blog out of curiosity. Bringing up the site on their phone, they brought up the first Just The Sides, post at random. Son on this fine weekend morning, I have the urge to run it back. Hit the music!

The Pope Hat Is Real

The current Pope and American-born Leo XIV is a diehard Chicago White Sox fan. Which is wild because to me growing the Pope seemed so…I dunno, otherworldly. That would be like finding out the Dalai Lama had a favorite Street Fighter character. Anyway, the White Sox decided to pay tribute to this by releasing a “limited edition Pope Hat.” Observe:

I can’t tell if its sacrilegious, or a well-put together miter with a design that screams “I hope Vatican City sells Deep Dish Pizza,” but it’s a very real thing. And there were so many people who were like “Heck Yeah!” to this, they are giving it away to everyone!

…so sayeth The Lord.

Sora AI Sunset Date Confirmed

OpenAI—You know, the ChatGPT guys, announced that their AI generation app, Sora, is coming to an end, with April 26th, 2026, being the final day. Sora was cool in that if you gave it a text description, it would generate a video for you. They had safeguards against generating violent or sexual images, so of course, there were whole subreddits about how to describe things to get around those fail-safes. Look, AI isn’t going anywhere, but Sora and apps like it (her?) were typically used as Exhibit A as to why artificial intelligence was a bad idea. Not me, though. I exclusively used Sora to generate failed TV Show premises. Killing time at night before going to bed could never be a “bad idea.” Here’s one of my gems

Or this one:

I kind of feel guilty, as the app allegedly cost millions of dollars a day to run. But on the other hand, shopping carts!

Dodgers Aiming To Be Least Likable Team Ever

Whether or not you believe the two-time defending champion Los Angeles Dodgers are killing baseball (they are), I stand to believe that they are in the hunt for one of the most unlikable teams ever. I’m still kind of miffed about the saga of Errol Segal. Segal was a fifty-year season ticketholder to Dodgertown, and he says he rarely missed games. The LA Dodgers informed Segal that they were no longer printing his tickets and that he would need a smartphone (and app) to retrieve digital entry to games. Segal is 81 years old:

I don’t know if you caught that, but it used to cost him an ADDITIONAL $600 to have those tickets printed! Just ridiculous.

Hey, tech never stops, and the whole world has gone digital. But in this instance, they could have grandfathered (heh) this guy in and printed his tickets. In fact, if the team were smart, they could’ve leaned in and made Segal an example that both Dodgers fandom is for everybody AND that they have this classic old-timey throwback feel while being a modern franchise.

Not sure why I’m giving the Dodgers ideas, though. It’s not like they are going broke any time soon.

As a parting shot, let me get you one more AI-generated failed TV show:

Heh heh heh, nice.

As mentioned in the eventual interview I had with Obama Foundation Chief Corporate Affairs office, baseball fanatic and proud Chicagoan Michael Strautmanis, there was a link between baseball and community that was strong in the inner city.

It was about ten years since Strautmanis (sometimes referred to as ‘Straut’) wrote an article for AndScape about how it was so hard to find Chicago fans of color at the game these days. That article stayed with me a mighty while, and so when the opportunity arose for the chance to sit down with Strautmanis, I jumped at the chance.

The discussion was lively enough. We discussed the role of sport in the black community, how Chicago ‘survives’ with two teams with very different aesthetics, what modern baseball means to the town today and more. Just don’t call him a celebrity!

Let me take you back to the year 2006. I was studying abroad in Costa Rica and the planet was about to have their quadrennial party, the World Cup. At the time, I didn’t “get” soccer, and I had no idea how big the tournament was. That year’s World Cup was in Germany and the first game of the entire tournament was the home side against Costa Rica. Let me tell you, the whole Central American country SHUT DOWN to watch the national team play. Stores were closed, taxis stopped running...it was a big deal.

I instantly got it. I became a fan of the sport right then and there. The one thing I remember from tournament away from the pitch was the official theme song. The track, a sweeping soundscape from German singer Herbet Grönemeyer was burned into my mind, forever!

That’s the thing about soccer. Between its tournament theme songs and video game soundtracks, the sport is so tied to music that they at times feel one and the same. We “Waka Waka’d” with Shakira when the World Cup was in Africa. Older folks remember when Ricky Martin told you about “La Copa Vida” in France ‘98.

Fast forward a couple of years, and in 2026 the World Cup is coming to North America. With the United States, Mexico, and Canada hosting games, it was time to come up with a theme song to truly capture the spirit of soccer. The powers that be decided to go with…country and “rap” artist Jelly Roll…? And Jelly (or is it Mr. Roll?) isn’t alone, as he’s paired with Mexican crooner Carin Leon in a song that’s so boring it’s offensive. I mean, listen to this:

And if you want to spare your ears the damage, here’s the opening lyrics:

In a word…what?

Is this a song that’s supposed to get you hype for a sports tournament? Well, too bad! You’re gonna get a somber af church hymn. And sure, soccer is tough work for the players, but all people in the stands are going to do is sit and stand, not back-breaking labor.

And sure, songs that talk about soccer too much can be seen as cheesy, but how about a song that doesn’t even talk about soccer at all. Though humorously, it mentions a hardwood floor multiple times, like we were playing basketball.

And I’m not even blaming this syrupy, deep-twang country beat because the “God’s Country-America” aesthetic is all the rage these days. I was going to say that Canada dodged a bullet, but this song was produced by Cirkut, who hails from Ottawa.

I will say the one thing FIFA did, which is pretty cool for this year’s soundtrack, is that all the host cities got theme songs. Nice.

But, back to the subject at hand: That awful 2026 theme song. The question I found myself wondering is, why do I care so much? Every tournament there’s an official theme song, but a bunch of unofficial songs come through that are just as good. I remember after “Waka Waka” was released, there were people who gravitated more to K’naan’s “Wavin’ Flag.”

But ultimately, this Jelly Roll track almost feels embarrassed to be a theme song. “Look, man. World Cups in three countries. We got guys from all three countries. Let’s bang this out and head to UFC after this.” It doesn’t seem worldly, it doesn’t get you hype play soccer, it doesn’t hit anything. I kind of wish it were cheesy because at least cheesy is trying to get its point across. If you want to know the cheesiest theme song for a sport is, click here. This track felt like Jelly had some old lyrics in the back of his notebook. Carin Leon was walking by on his way to the club and dropped his vocals, while Cirkut promised he could slap it together in 24 hours or less.

And the thing is, I actually like Jelly Roll. That “ I Need a Favor” track is the closest thing I have to gospel in my rotation. I even loved it when he wrestled at WWE Summerslam. Don’t believe me?

But that World Cup song? That ain’t it.

Herbet Grönemeyer’s legacy doesn’t deserve this!

As I waited to board the hour-long Southwest Airlines flight to Sacramento for the last time, I had a moment of reflection. No, not from the fact that the only flight I could afford was the first flight of the day, so I was milling around Los Angeles International at 5am on a Thursday. What I was thinking was that by the end of that evening, I would have formally transferred my United States Air Force Honor Commandership to ‘Alumnus’ status. Three years in the making of “serving” a branch of the military in a civilian capacity was over.

Yeah, I am and was always a civilian. An “Honorary Commander” is just that, honorary. I don’t even get to command anybody.

The United States Air Force basically has this program (under their Public Relations department) as a way for ‘civilians of note’ to learn more about the Air Force, with the expectation that these commanders go back and tell their social networks about how cool the military was. It was a fantasy camp. And unlike most people who were from Solano County, the area of which Travis Air Force Base was located, I flew in from Los Angeles EVERY TIME there was an event for Honorary Commanders. It didn’t pay—and I kind of got a reputation for being a bit of a nutjob—but I got to close the loop on something I had wanted to do for a while.

That’s right. Pose inside planes.

No, seriously. I feel like I tell this story a lot, so bear with me if you’ve heard this one: The attack on the World Trade Center happened when I was in high school. I wanted to join the military then because this wasn’t a case of terrorists doing things “over there.” It was an attack on my hometown. I was ineligible to serve then, and while I technically could still join like the Air National Guard or something, I wasn’t going to do that sort of thing now. (I got soft knuckles. No fighting for me). And so I threw my hat in the ring for the Honorary Commander program at the local Air Force base in Los Angeles. Due to a series of clerical mishaps, my application got picked up and approved at another base some 400 miles away. I jumped at the chance, not knowing how I would swing so many travel days. And bam, Honorary Commander Boyce is in the house! Bleeding money to do something in a watchalong capacity. A fantasy camp where I get to hang with the cool kids with no basic training required.

Right. As an Honorary Commander, you get assigned to a unit, and you more or less get to shadow how they operate. You also get a lapel pin, and even though it’s kind of basic looking, it’s the thought that counts. My unit was the Air Force Band, specifically the Band of the Golden West. A giant band that can be broken up into smaller bands for genre playing and touring purposes is responsible for playing at events (for free) up and down the West Coast. I would make appearances when I can, like a warm-bodied mascot, and shake hands with anyone who’d ask, “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?!” It was great. Unlike other commanders, I didn’t have rich friends or attend country clubs, so I tried to get the word out about the band was doing via my podcasts:

It was a good time.

And like most good times, after three years of service, it was time to hang it up. To be fair to me, the third year was a bonus due to some scheduling issues on the Air Force’s part. Did you know that during a government shutdown, public relations programs are the first to be paused? I didn’t!

So I sat there at my transfer ceremony, chatting up the woman who would take over my Honorary Commander role. She could not believe I would fly in from Los Angeles for events at the base, and was utterly flabbergasted when I said that a vast majority of those trips were same-day. I took some exit photos, sang the USAF Air Force Fight Song (btw, a banger…), and was on my way to get myself involved in the next goofy adventure. I did get a cool token of appreciation for my ‘tour.’ It was a unit patch and a letter commending my commitment to the cause.

Not bad for a guy who basically hopped off a plane to get that work done, baybeee!

If you’re a long-term reader of this here Sandwich, you’d know I am a fan of baseball. For me, it’s the balance between the high-strung pursuit of perfection and how it clashes with the more laid-back “America’s Pastime” that works best for me.

Recently on my “In The Booth with Flobo Boyce” podcast… You know, the one I released in collaboration with The Black Baseball Mixtape, I had the chance to sit down with Dr. Seth S. Tannenbaum. Dr. Tannenbaum penned the book, “Bleacher Seats and Luxury Suites,” which takes a sharp eye at how baseball as a sport tried to divide its fanbase by class despite the fact that the sport maintained an air of it being “for all.”

We talked about how working class fans were shut out in some cities, what it means to be priced out today, and how the rise of modern “hospitality packages” furthered the divide. Dr. Tannenbaum is a wealth of knowledge on the subject, and our interview is already one of my favorite conversations of the year.

Check out the episode on YouTube and wherever you get your podcasts. And if you haven’t already, make sure to leave a review.

So about a month ago, I came across a reel on Instagram. The Melbourne Aces, a team trying to find its way since their split from the Australian Baseball League, had posted that they gave a tryout to tech billionaire Min Hur, who turns 50 in May. And well, it was a feel-good piece:

(A note: For the purposes of this article, I’ll refer to the player as ‘Min Hur,’ but he has been referenced as ‘Hur Min’ and ‘Heo Min’ as well).

If you don’t have time to watch that clip, here’s the skinny: 49-year-olds just physically don’t have the arm strength to throw a baseball 100 miles per hour. This non-athlete masters what’s known as a ‘knuckleball,’ a SLOW pitch that kind of floats in the air when it’s thrown. It’s like a carnival trick, but a respected one. Anyway, I wrote the first draft of this article about three weeks back, scheduled it to go live the next day, and went to bed.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Why would a Korean ‘tech billionaire’ even consider playing baseball in Australia? Korean baseball is the world’s third-largest market. Why is a rich person “trying out?” Why now? And why do I care so much? So, please indulge me as I show you the rabbit hole I fell down following this guy.

So Min Hur made his money in video games by being on the team that created ‘Dungeon & Fighter,’ which became a massive hit in China.

Sure, whatever.

But that was my first question, right? If you live in Korea and Korea has a massive Korean baseball scene, wouldn’t you want to start domestically if you have the itch to play? Get this, he kind of DID. In fact, you see that picture I posted earlier in this article? The handshake one? That team in the picture, the Goyang Wonders was a team he founded as the FIRST independent baseball team in Korea. It wasn’t affiliated, and while they played legitimate baseball clubs, the stats never counted. Imagine just starting a baseball team and then getting to play the Yankees and Dodgers for funsies. The Wonders folded after only two years in operation. Slight plot twist, Min Hur never actually played for the team he owned, for “reasons.”

His obsession with learning the knuckleball and practice didn’t stop there. After a stint playing for a team in the United States (I mean, really, WHY haven’t I heard of this guy before??), he became a controversial figure during his stint as an executive with Korean Baseball team, the Kiwoom Heroes:

He made the team stay late so he could throw pitches! That’s insane! Because what are you going to do if you’re on that team? Say, “Nah, I’d rather go home and NOT do this?” You know, I’ve never seen The Office, but I imagine it went down like this:

Winning cures everything, at least. That American team I mentioned earlier? Min Hur’s stats while on that team are a matter of public record:

In baseball, a sub-3 ERA is considered elite. This guy hovers over TWELVE. In other words, he wasn’t even good ten years ago!

And so, this brings me back to the Melbourne Aces. Here’s a guy who is obviously not an elite athlete, throwing a pitch so unpredictable it can’t even be relied upon to win a game, but has so much money and influence that he continues to get chances to do so. Or, if I’m being more forgiving: Here’s a guy who really loves baseball so much he dedicated his adult life to the chance to be a viable player, while learning about the game along the way from the executive side of things. Seeing a once in a lifetime opportunity, he grabbed the brass ring to pitch in Australia. Either narrative you choose leads to one question:

WHAT THE F ARE THE MELBOURNE ACES DOING?

But then, it all makes sense:

Korea is essentially using Australia as an offseason training ground. There’s better weather, the seasons in the southern hemisphere are flipped, it’s cheaper to train there than Japan…it just makes sense. And the Aces, as I mentioned, is an Australian baseball team that’s outside of the Australian Baseball League. Mix the two, and my conspiracy theory is that Melbourne is willing to take a guy who appears to be getting run out of Korea but has too much money to actually ride off into the sunset, and poof! Now you have Aces executives talking about a guy who could qualify for AARP like he’s the second coming of Phil Niekro.

Stay after work late, he’ll show you.

Motorsports are a funny thing.

Depending on who you ask, racing with vehicles are either “over” or in the midst of a renaissance. For every blog that’s written about circuits like Formula 1 “cooling off,” there are other stories out there telling me motorsports are headed for a new era of fandom and investment. Then there is NASCAR. In of itself, NASCAR is a paradox within a paradox: It’s at once a name brand synonymous with (American) racing while at the same time being perceived as being left in the dust by other motorsport leagues.

It’s a global brand that struggles to get out of its own Southern-fried way. An organization that has poured millions into diversity efforts has seen its core (older, Caucasian) fanbase barely budge. And while I so wanted one of those trendy ‘NASCAR jackets’ back in the early 2000s, there are just other, cooler (and less expensive) ways to get your racing fix.

Enter Tyler Reddick.

Reddick (alongside teammate Bubba Wallace) races for 23XI Racing, a team that’s owned by Denny Hamlin (the “XI”,) and Michael Jordan (the 23). And if you’re wondering, yes, that is the same Michael Jordan who appeared in the cinematic classic, “Space Jam.”

Michael Jordan is actually integral to this story. I could go into the fact that he’s one of the few black principal owners on any motorsport team in this country, but that’s another sandwich for another time. The bigger story is that just about a year ago, Jordan had sued NASCAR for unfair business practices. If you want the full breakdown as to why, this video breaks it down. And well, with Reddick’s recent success, I bet the historically petty Jordan is laughing his ass off.

Tyler Reddick went out and won the first three races of the season: The world-famous Daytona 500, the Autotrader 400, and the DuraMAX Texas Grand Prix. Winning one race can elude a driver for years. Winning three races in a season is amazing. Three back-to-back? Phenomenal. And a funny thing happened when Reddick did that, and I’m not referring to the parade of 3-peat memes.

Mainstream sports media took notice. Don’t get me wrong, NASCAR isn’t a small operation (even though technically it’s a ‘mom & pop’ operation if you can believe it), but it almost never gets covered on sports morning shows and talking head podcasts. But that’s exactly what happened in the wake of Reddick’s victories. Face of the ESPN network Stephen A Smith always seems uncomfortable stepping out of his football and basketball comfort zone, but even he has covered Reddick and NASCAR more than once.

And I’m not even making this up, this is literally the caption of the above video:

Reddick has the potential to be an unlikely crossover star for the sport if his appeal keeps up. He presents himself as a level-headed, down-to-earth dude from a coastal state. Not only is he racking up wins, but he has the advantage of being on a team ran by one of the greatest sportsmen of all time. There is an opportunity to appeal to hardcore fans, casual fans, and non-fans simultaneously. Plus, His Airness has got money to burn:

Look, Reddick won’t win forever, but if NASCAR knows what’s good for it (spoiler alert: They don’t), they should find a way to repeat this formula. Get the hard-nosed, working-class, everyman billionaires to invest in teams so they could push talent and races, while we feel it’s all more accessible than Formula 1.

I bet Stephen A Smith would approve. You think he’d rock an M&M jacket?

With the World Cup coming to North America this summer, safety discussions have been top of mind. And so, FIFA (the completely above-board organization behind the soccer tournament) decides to implement a stringent bag policy. Bad things happen in bags and traveling storage apparatus, apparently. But one ‘wee’ country has a problem with all of that: They like to show up with kilts, and kilts usually come with sporrans, a pouch that hangs out in front. A controversy ensued.

Well ya can’t keep a good country down because ol’ Alba got the green light to allow their supporters to wear the testicle-adjacent accessory as they cheer on their guys this July. From BBC News:

I’d really like to know how the discussion went down between the supporters, the Scottish Football Association, and FIFA. Was it a sit-down meeting in a dark room like in a mob movie? Was it like one of 200 message-long e-mail chains that probably ended with the guy who did the least saying something like “Thanks Everyone!”? Was it a rousing speech like in Braveheart, where someone yelled over a sweeping musical score about how important a sporran is to carry things perilously close to your manhood?

Because while I could clearly see an alternate universe where Scotland supporters would just have to bring in clear plastic bags like the rest of us, the fact that this was something Scotland fought for AND won is pretty amazing. Despite the fact that the tournament is located in North America, these Scottish pouches will most likely end up stealing the show. Do you remember when the vuvuzela became synonymous with the World Cup in South Africa back in 2010?

Hmm yes. Sounds angelic.

Honestly, it’s rather fitting that this story came across my desk this week. Back in January of this year, I had tried and failed to secure a tie of my ancestral clan in time for a Robbie Burns Night. (I ended up going with the Black Watch design, close but not close enough) But ever since then, Highland dress has been all over my algorithm. And let me tell you, wearing a kilt (and all the accoutrements that go with it) can get very intricate. Don’t believe me? Here’s a video about all the things that go into wearing Highland dress.

So yeah, in a way, I kind of understand standing up for your right to wear that cute bag over your sack. If you want to honor your people and culture, you might as well do it as accurately as you can. Good on them, I say. Also, as someone with actual ties to Scotland—a story for another time—I’m down for anything that gets the supporters in the best possible mood to sing their unofficial national anthem, “Flower of Scotland.”

The Rugby team does it better, imo.

Flobo Fact: I actually learned this song by heart this past Thanksgiving, just in case I would ever find myself at a Scottish soccer or rugby game. I also thoroughly dislike Thanksgiving, but that’s neither here nor there.

And speaking of me dressing up for the homies, did I ever mention to you that Just The Sandwich has MERCH? Click the link and support this homie, if you wanna!

Sporrans sold separately.

One of the wildest things about being a former pro wrestling pundit is that I thought this whole thing was fake. However, my mind was blown when I, and most of the world, got wind that former mixed martial artist Ronda Rousey was going to face former mixed martial artist Gina Carano in an actual athletic contest in 2026.

Yeah, the year is super important as Rousey will be 39 when she enters the cage in May, whereas Carano will be 44. And sure, age is just a number, but really, who was asking for this fight at all? Video clip time:

Saturday, May 16th, is the date, and Netflix is the platform. Apparently, this contest comes from the people who brought you Jake Paul vs Mike Tyson. So for me, that means we’re getting like four hours of prelims, buffering issues, and a main event that goes, “That’s it?” Look, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I honestly thought these decorated competitors had simply moved on. Carano (MMA record 7-1) had the makings of an acting career, give or take a Star Wars role. Have you seen her in “Haywire?”

I mean, it was a thing.

And even though Rousey’s (MMA record 12-2) movie successes were negligible, she had a decent run as a professional wrestler with the WWE. Was she a good wrestler? Well…

That’s up for debate. And while there’s a handful of wrestlers who have gone back to MMA, the transition has historically been less than seamless. Okay, I’ll be frank, they usually get their asses kicked.

So this whole thing just kind of lends itself to “why?” Why in 2026? Carano was a trailblazer, and Rousey was the torchbearer. Totally understand that, but neither fighter is going to be in “prime shape.” This could end up hurting both their legacies, Netflix’s position as a sports authority of must see events, AND the promotion company behind it.

Or not. I’m probably going to end up watching the clips of the aftermath anyway, because why not?

It’s only February and the ride that is 2026 has been pretty wild so far. Days removed from Bad Bunny’s Benito Bowl, (As an entertainer, I thought Benito was great. As a Caribbean-American, I thought the show was important), we are firmly into the run of the Winter Olympics in Milan and Cortina. I haven’t actually sat down and watched the coverage—I’ve tapped into my inner Gen Z and just watched clips online—there always seems to be a bit of pride when things like this come around. You want to see your country represented and represented well. And in the span of a couple of days, both the Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony and Super Bowl 60 Halftime show literally had flags on parade.

I found myself wondering if it would be possible to represent my country (or countries) of origin in an athletic competition of some kind. I’m not young, fit, or have any baked-in skills in anything, “but imagine the GLORY, Flobito!”

Enter Rugby League.

So those long-term followers of this site know that I was an American who fell into Australian Rugby League, NRL, a couple of years ago. And while I had the chance to be at the first AND second NRL: Vegas competitions, this will be the first year I will be sitting the festivities out

Last year, I had a chance to see some of the off-site events, primarily the United States Rugby League Team (codenamed The Hawks) compete on a high school field some 11 miles from the main event. Gotta start somewhere, USA!

And let me tell you, if you haven’t seen NRL (or any kind of rugby league before), it’s kind of wild.

So I got the thinking:

I believe I have the size for rugby, I’m practically as American as apple pie and overpriced health insurance, and I bet I can rock the hell out of a stars and stripes uniform. Plus the “National Team” is small enough that they have to play on a high school field in the desert while the organization that invited them out to play is living it up crosstown. Do I…have a chance? Then I saw this:

The LA Roosters are a club team (supported by the Australian club of the same name) that plays, perhaps hilariously, forty miles away from Los Angeles in Anaheim, California. The LA Roosters hold open practices and tryouts twice a week. The thought goes that if I roll up to the team and get signed. In theory, I, too, would be able to be a National Level athlete. Bad Bunny could theoretically be singing at halftime shows for MY games!

Let me tell you that I am not prime-athlete-years old. Even ChatGPT, an AI that’s so agreeable, people are choosing it over their own therapists, tried to warn me:

I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS, CHATGPT! <sobs>

But let’s say I get the drive, determination, and a fresh set of knees to take on the world. What if I became the best dang over-the-age-of-30 athlete to ever play rugby? What could be? What. Could. Be?!

On second thought, maybe ChatGPT is right.

As I post this, we are about 30 Days away from what’s been described as “The World Cup of Professional Baseball,” the World Baseball Classic. Held every three years, the WBC is for everyone who ever made that lame joke about the ‘World Series’ only involving American teams. Next month 20 teams (including squads like USA, Japan, the Dominican Republic, among others) will duke it out over the span of two weeks.

And if you think 20 teams is a lot, there are a bunch of teams that didn’t qualify. Like seriously, I didn’t even realize places like South Africa and Germany even had baseball teams, and now I won’t even get the chance to see them.

If this is going to be your first WBC, allow me to provide you with some background on things to keep an eye on:

The Jerseys Dropped Today

For a lot of people, today was like Christmas. With the uniform designs being made available online, fans were ready to discuss what worked and what didn’t. It was also a chance to show the world your nation’s pride (I suppose). The jerseys themselves never tended to excitement, which made my feelings range from indifference to contempt. For an example of the latter, check out the design of Team USA’s jersey:

Just boring. So many ways to convey that not only the United States, but you continue to innovate the game. What we got was a design that hadn’t changed in decades. That “bacon strip” in the middle where the “S” is supposed to be is something I cannot unsee. Might as well make the “U” a pancake and the “A” a couple of eggs.

Great Britain jerseys got an upgrade, because their 2023 unis were a literal joke.

Straight up, the one on the left looks like what happens when you’re the late substitute to the company bowling team and you just grab what’s left in the bottom of the gear bag. Full gallery of uniforms for all of the teams here.

I can’t come after Great Britain too much. I was elated when they announced that both Jazz Chisholm Jr and Harry Ford were both named captains of this year’s squad. IYKYK

Can Japan Do It Again?

Japan returns to the proceedings as defending champions, and they are heavily favored to repeat (more on that later) They won the 2023 edition in one of the most dramatic ways possible. Shohei Ohtani, aka one of the best players on the planet, struck out USA’s Mike Trout in front of millions watching worldwide.

Japan takes its baseball very seriously. And even though on paper Japan has brought “stronger” sides to the tournament before, they have tremendous pressure to repeat. They would be the “Big Bad” team if they weren’t so likable.

Insurance Woes

The past two weeks may have turned every casual baseball fan into a sporting insurance expert, but the biggest storyline of the tournament is who’s NOT going to be there. The World Baseball Classic happens in March, which is Major League Baseball’s preseason. And while many players would love for the chance to play for their country (or at least a country they have passing ties to), they have to obtain extra insurance to play in the World Baseball Classic in order to play. Like if you go out there and tear an ACL, MCL, VCR, or YMCA, somebody’s got to be on the hook to pay your salary while you’re laid up at home. Some Major League Clubs covered that gap; some clubs DID NOT. And so, for various reasons, star players from Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, and Cuba are ineligible to play.

This actually hits team Puerto Rico the hardest, with their baseball federation threatening to withdraw the team wholesale.

They didn’t, though, and Puerto Rico could end up being a sentimental favorite. But not as sentimental as these guys:

Team Czechia is Going For All Your Heart Strings

If you’re approaching this World Baseball Classic unsure of who to root for, let me tell you how dope the Czech Republic’s National Team is. Remember when I said Team Japan player Shohei Ohtani is one of the greatest players alive? Well, it helps that his day job is literally “pro baseball player.” Most of the guys on the Czech Republic National Team are amateurs. They got regular ass jobs like teaching kids, plumbing things, and manly stuff or something. Then, when someone sounds the alarm, they just appear and find ways to win

That’s pretty cool, not going to lie.

Baseball in Asia Hits Different

I touched upon the atmosphere earlier, but baseball in Asia has a gameday experience all its own. The 2026 edition has some games emanating from the Tokyo Dome, and it gets rowdy (sound on):

that we love sports so much and we get a reputation for being loud people, but we’re ironically tame/subdued at sporting events. We don’t have stadium-wide chants, we don’t do synchronized dance… In America, we have the (checks notes) Kiss Cam…?

I mean, there’s someone who gets drunk and rowdy at these sorts of things. They are the exception that proves the rule. Not me, though. The average price for a beer at a sporting event is approaching $20 a draft, and I don’t have Elon money. Shout out to my rowdy ones out there, though.

Anyway, the 2026 edition of the World Baseball Classic kicks off with regional powerhouse The Dominican Republic taking on my dark horse pick to win its group in Nicaragua. And by “dark horse,” I’m talking about a team that has the second-worst odds in the entire tourney at 250:1. What can I say though? I like both Dusty Baker and Mark Vientos.

Find out how to watch the World Baseball Classic here.

Fans of the “Fast and Furious” franchise (or is it “The Fast and the Furious?”) will have to wait until 2028 for the reported final installment to hit theaters. Announced Friday, the flick will sport the official name: Fast Forever.

Fast. Forever. I mean, I guess?

It’s better than the 8th edition title of “The Fate of the Furious,” which always makes me think of hangry people on a mission to find a brunch spot. But “Fast Forever” is locked in for what’s believed to be the last Fast and Furious film, ever! And by that, I mean until they eventually spin off or reboot the series. And that’s not even counting the cartoon:

Because I’m ALWAYS asking my friends what Dominic Toretto’s little cousin is doing these days.

When it comes to the Fast & Furious franchise, it’s basically a mixed bag for a lot of people. Either you hate it, and feel it’s emblematic of Hollywood’s lack of creativity and penchant for running ideas into the ground. Or, you love the (eventual) ridiculousness of it all with a resounding “Hell Yeah!” I found myself somewhere in the middle: I thought the first film took itself way too seriously, hopped on board by the second one, believed it peaked at the fifth one, and now I’m too pot-committed to not see how the story plays out, despite the last couple of films feeling flat. I also have the irrational anger about how unnecessary “Hobbs & Shaw” was, but that’s another thing entirely.

As a former film analyst, I can also drone on how something that could have been poignant about the THEME of family, got dumbed down to the point where family became a cudgel of a plot device, but I’ll put the snobbery away.

I am glad the main story is coming to an end, though. Even though about 12-15 years have passed in-story, the Fast & Furious franchise has been around for about 25 calendar years. When the first film dropped in 2001, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation was all the rage. Vin Diesel isn’t my favorite actor, but someone needs to free the 58-year-old actor from the shackles of sleeveless shirts and mumbling things on camera:

Even though the franchise has been the most profitable Universal Studios franchise of all time, it doesn’t seem to cross generations like other franchises do, such as Star Wars and Harry Potter. Moms and dads aren’t taking their kids to see Fast and Furious movies. The theaters are instead filled with older millennials who feel they are still too young for World War II movies, just yet. The movies have pulled in a combined $7.5 billion dollars, which is more than both Universal’s Jurassic Park franchise ($6.3 billion), and Despicable Me ($5.6 billion).

There’s also the issue that it’s a franchise that’s not really for car people, (or fans of covert counterterrorism unit movies…?) anymore. What would you say is a Fast and Furious movie these days? I guess if it has a couple of exotic locations, a forgettable villains, and a soundtrack that keeps Wiz Khalifa employed, you can call it day.

Speaking of, the one guy they haven’t brought back was the dude from 2 Fast 2 Furious. He was fun:

“And you, I’ll take my cutter back.” He’s like a vanilla Tony Montana, and that’s perfect for car-based, quasi illegal errand missions.

Fast Forever. I’ll be there day one. I have to see whether or not they make it to Atlantis or whatever.

Last thing: Did you know that the series goes by the name “Wild Speed” in Japan?

• The Fast and the Furious (2001)—Wild Speed

• 2 Fast 2 Furious (2003)—Wild Speed X2

• The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006)—Wild Speed X3: Tokyo Drift

• Fast & Furious (2009)—Wild Speed MAX

• Fast Five (2011)—Wild Speed MEGA MAX

• Fast & Furious 6 (2013)—Wild Speed: Euro Mission

• Furious 7 (2015)—Wild Speed: Sky Mission

• The Fate of the Furious (2017)—Wild Speed: Ice Break

• Hobbs & Shaw (2019)—Wild Speed: Super Combo

• F9—Wild Speed: Jet Break

• Fast X—Wild Speed: Fire Boost

The last one has GOT to be “End Mission,” right?

When Cheats from The Black Baseball Mixtape called me up wanting to do a special collab event between the main podcast and In The Booth, I was definitely intrigued. Coach Aaron Rouselle, a man who had a laundry list of health issues, accomplished his dreams of playing baseball at the Junior College (JUCO) level. As a guy who only went as high as slow pitch softball, it was an incredible story and I would love to share that with you below:

I’ve been thinking of doing more video content on JTS. Lemme know what you think!

You know something? Every industry has jargon that’s specific to it.

For example. At my day job, the clients I work with are about the word aligned all of a sudden. As in, “if we are aligned, we can move forward.” Or, “Are you aligned with this?” Nobody agrees anymore. We are done “seeing if this works for you.” I haven’t heard a “sounds good” in months. We are doing nothing but aligning these days. I didn’t even get notice of the change. One day we are in lockstep, the next day we’re in Alignville.

Tom Brady seems to align (hehe, get it?) himself with people who are very good at using TB12’s face to print money. And this week, news broke that the sports apparel/lifestyle brand/talent house (?) NoBull [pronounced ‘Noble’] has just hit a $1 BILLION valuation after raising $50 million in funding. Just typing that blows my mind:

From Front Office Sports:

Okay, so the rich get richer: A story that’s as old as time. But there’s a twist here: So Mr. Brady, a NFL sports analyst and a part-owner of a NFL football team, (conflict of interest? Nah, couldn’t be him), has a athletic brand where he can use his media platform(s) to recruit spokesathletes…and just got paid doing so.

This is Matthew Schaefer:

18-year-old hockey phenom who’s giving me a glimmer of hope that the Islanders aren’t going to suck forever and ever (highlights here). Schaeffer has had a couple of hot months, and guess who comes around:

It’s ol’ former NFL Champion and Unc From The Future Tom Brady who ain’t got time to slide in DMs, coming through! Schaefer signed with NoBull a few days later.

I guess I should be proud of Tom here. He’s just one lowly average Joe like you and me owning his own version of an innocent lemonade stand. I can’t for the life of me see how this itty-bitty side hustle from San Mateo, California’s favorite son is worth more than 26 American soccer teams, however. And I can’t even tell you where the valuation basis is coming from. I tried watching some of the YouTube content and it seems like it’s provocative circa 2010:

And yes, that title isn’t “Just Do It,” it’s way more XTREME!

The plan is to make NoBull a whole wellness (ugh, sigh) lifestyle brand, but we’ve seen that to varying degrees of success before. But even with the windfall the brand got because of Brady, it’s going to have to prove that it’s something beyond a vanity project for the seven-time Super Bowl winner.

If you’re aligned with that, please subscribe!

Stephen Ross is the owner of a hapless NFL franchise. No, I’m not talking about the Jets this time. I’m talkin’ about the crown jewel of South Florida sports, the Miami Dolphins. A team that went 7-10 this season. A team that just fired its coach last week. A team so devoid of cultural cache, it’s home venue is becoming more associated with Formula 1 (and the Miami Grand Prix) than the gridiron. And yet, Ross revealed something utterly mindboggling:

15 BILLION DOLLARS?! For the Dolphins?? Here’s the clip:

So let me get this straight: You own a team that at one point in its history thought it was cool to have a logo that shows a dolphin actually wearing a helmet, you’ve been synonymous with futility, and despite this somebody offered you BILLIONS to take it off of your hands?

And to top it off, you’re like “nah, my son-in-law got this?”

The level of wealth I aspire to be someday pales in comparison to this man’s everyday rich-reality. For context:

The Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, took 1.5 billion dollars to build. Walt Disney Studios bought Pixar for $7.4 billion. Amazon bought Whole Foods for over $13 billion. And some guy just had $15 billion for the MIAMI DOLPHINS and got turned away. If that were me, and I determined not good enough for the Dolphins, I’d burn something down!

But it did get me to think about it, though. Why are football teams so expensive? I know there are more soccer and cricket teams and fans in the world, but why aren’t people shelling out the GDP of The Bahamas to buy soccer teams, even post-Wrexham? YouTube University actually had the answer to this one:

Basically, because there are fewer games in a season in the NFL (scarcity), a franchise model, so there’s no threat of being relegated (stability), and the average NFL fan has more money to burn, football teams can command a pretty penny when they’re up for sale. But here’s the twist: According to Forbes, the Miami Dolphins are only worth about $7.5B so there was somebody out there willing to pay DOUBLE for…for…this!

Well, I guess kudos are for Ross to keep it in the family. For years to come, he’ll be subjected to fan support like this:

And it wouldn’t even cost 15 billies.

About a month ago on this blog, I mused about the evolution (or devolution) of the modern sports song, or “Jock Jam.” I asked, “What does one even sound like in the present day?” Well, just a couple of weeks ago I got my answer.

I recently had gone to a Los Angeles Chargers/Houston Texans game in Inglewood during the holiday season. And after a great game in which my Texans won, I did what any fan would do in this situation: I bragged on social. I went to find the perfect song to match my photos, and came across a “Houston Texans Anthem” created by ‘Central Cali Love Productions.’ And then it hit me: the AI music revolution is already here. First, the song.

This was not a case of me plugging in a couple of sports prompts into Suno for my own enjoyment. This wasn’t a humorous take on a well-known song sung in a different genre (because those are kind of fun in a novelty sense, I reckon). This was a case of me, a social media user looking for a specific piece of novelty content, meeting a company that seemingly does nothing but make niche music to be used on social media. While this would be forgiven if this were one dude who really liked his team doing a theme, when you realize this artist has a song for EVERY major North American Team, it’s kind of wild. Indeed, there are even songs for when certain teams clinch for the playoffs. I would attach one here, but your time is valuable, so here’s an AI cover that takes DMX’s “X Gon’ Give It To Ya” as a 1950s Soul cover:

Here’s the thing: I’m not even anti-AI. I know, that sounds absolutely crazy coming from me. As a podcaster and a DJ, most of my livelihood is threatened by Artificial Intelligence every day. I generate AI images for non-commercial use sometimes. I spend some evenings making AI-generated things on Suno or Sora. Yes, there’s a whole ethical debate here, but I typically maintain that while it is legal, it’s okay to play around with it for private use.

But for some reason it’s the sports thing that makes me conflicted.

And it’s not even from the song itself. I actually like the “Houston Texans Anthem” as it was posted. As a fan, though, it’s kind of missing the human element that makes sports anthems fun. This wasn’t a fan of a team that wanted to show the world how much they loved their local team, like when the dude from Rancid did a whole theme song for the Real Salt Lake soccer team.

This isn’t a case of a sports team stupidly getting caught up in the pop culture of the time to make an unholy union of cringe, like when the Green Bay Packers came out with “The Packerena”

No, this was something missing the kind of context that makes fandom great. Like you could tell, there was a prompt that listed the team, some of the players and coaches, and a musical genre that aligns with the team location. That’s different, y’all. I’m all for music without soul. But music without soul AND passion? Man, I need to take a walk and process all of this.

Because, I’m starting to worry that people don’t realize what “anthems” are. True jock jams are anointed. A song comes on, and people collectively lose their minds. Of course, I’ll give a pass to the 2020 XFL. They launched their league from scratch and commissioned 8 (authentic, non-AI) anthems, one for each of their teams, with the hopes that they would catch on. It didn’t, but I still sing some of them like this one and this one.

No, seriously, check this out. I’m a fan of the Brooklyn Nets, right? Here’s an anthem attempt from musician and human John Forte:

And here’s an AI version that just mentions the current players and coaches, while making the song about the current rebuild.

Talking about a rebuild in an anthem is nasty work.

I guess this whole thing is a symptom of a bigger issue, right? We’re more isolated now than ever before, and nobody who makes these things thinks about 1) whether it would be liked, 2) if these songs would be played in a stadium, and 3) whether it captures the spirit of a team or it just serves the ‘creator’ of the song.

And yes, you’d end up with the occasional “Packerena” but that’s the price we all have to pay.