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.

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. 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!