Author: dannyhong

Orange Cassidy: giving credit where it’s due

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

OFC when I actually get the opportunity to write this post, it just so happens to be right after Orange Cassidy finally lost the AEW Intercontinental All-Atlantic International championship after 31 previously successful title defenses.

But it doesn’t matter; all the same, despite the fact of how critical I am of AEW, I still wanted to make this post to give credit to where it’s due, to Orange Cassidy, whom in my opinion, has probably just concluded the greatest championship reign in the promotion’s short history.  Better than Cody’s TNT title run, better than Mox’s first AEW World title run and most definitely better than Jade Cargill’s TBS title run.

Over the last 11 months, Orange Cassidy successfully defended the International championship 31 times after winning it from PAC last October, which is a pretty unprecedented run, especially in today’s day and age of the industry where championships are either seldom defended, or passed around like a hot potato. 

Sure, it might seem silly to applaud the results of a scripted industry, but the fact of the matter is that in spite of the predetermined outcomes, the dancing still has to take place, and over the span of the last year, OC has participated in 30+ high-output matches which over time is a colossal physical workload, that he’s endured and thrived through, bringing the stock of the AEW International championship to quite frankly, the heights of a 1B tier, right behind the World championship.

Admittedly, I wasn’t really that big of a fan of OC, as I thought his whole schtick was too juvenile and apropos to the kid fans of today, but it dawned on me that that’s just exactly what he is.  He’s a guy meant to appeal to the younger audience, the guy that can capture the imaginations of the 17-and younger audience, as well as the younger rung of the vaunted 18-35 male demographic that AEW loves to tout being the kings of.  And the last time I checked, I’m firmly outside of both demographics, so OC is not a guy that’s meant for me no matter how his character is booked.

But work is work, and I have tremendous respect for a guy who can go 11 straight months and performing at the pace in which he does, and who has clearly been working through a lot of aches and pains throughout that stretch, as the amount of RockTape™ on his body seemed to increase every single month.

And 31 title defenses doesn’t account for the times he was involved in programs with Best Friends or with other stable vs. stable feuds in between his singles bouts, which only adds to the workload that was heaped upon him over the last year.  Again, the outcomes might be predetermined, but there’s an expectation of performance in AEW for title bouts, and OC has done a tremendous amount of work over the last year, and it goes without saying that the guy deserves a boatload of credit, recognition and acknowledgment of the effort he’s put in.

In a way, it’s almost a relief that he finally dropped the blet, although I’m perplexed to why it’s going to Jon Moxley who needs a mid-card title win as much as some rich guy needing another million bucks, but I really hope that OC gets to take some time off soon in order to rest his body, because I’ve grown to respect the worker, and I’d like for him to get back to an optimal condition to where he can get back into the game and keep pleasing fans and earning respect from olds like me.

But for what it’s worth, I just wanted to tip my e-cap to Orange Cassidy, for basically being the MVP of AEW over the last year, because as all fans of the WWE Intercontinental championship know, that 1B title is the workhorse blet, and they’re the guys that really shoulder a substantial load that satisfies the wrestling fans, even if they’re not involved in the World title storylines.

The joys of running on the Silver Comet Trail not

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

The above image encapsulates exactly what it’s like to run on the Silver Comet trail, which is a super awesome run/bike trail here in the Metro Atlanta area that basically stretches from the outskirts of the city and supposedly connects all the way west, to almost the Alabama state line.  It’s a great trail for people of all skill and experience levels, because it has so many points of access, people can use it for leisurely walks, lengthy excursions or just to train or casually exercise on.

I’ve always used it as a place to train up for long runs, as well as my preferred location to do any of the longer, numerous virtual runs that I always sign up for in order to add to my running medal collection, and it really is a wonderful trail because it’s fairly flat, completely shaded by trees which helps in even the hottest of summers, and there are multiple break points for people to rest, get water and take bathroom breaks if needed.

However, my only real criticism of the Silver Comet trail, isn’t something that can really be controlled, and is actually something that I’ve gripe-brogged about in the past, which is all the fucking bicyclists on the trail who think they own the entire thing, and go around flying down the path at 30+ mph, screaming ON YOUR LEFT all the time as if they were getting paid a quarter every time they had to wail it out.

Seriously, thanks to the Silver Comet, I fucking hate bicyclists, more than the times when I used to have to traverse around the city and had to share the roads with all the hipsters on their fixed gears clogging up lanes.  And to be more specific it’s not all bicyclists, and it’s not even the mega-tryhards that act like they’re participating in the Tour de France with their matching uniforms and barely existent thin-ass aluminum bicycles.

It’s the weekender bicyclists who think they’re on Lance Armstrong’s level when he was roided up to the gills, who are usually by themselves or with 1-2 other douchebag weekenders, who get on the trail and act like the whole thing belongs to them.  They’re the ones who are incessantly screaming ON YOUR LEFT to everyone as if they’re taxicabs in F-Zero, strategically placed just to ruin their day when they’re the ones in fact ruining everyone else’s day by being entitled assholes, hogging the entire trail for themselves and screaming at everyone.

Like, real pro-tryhard bicyclists for one, travel in large packs, but also have been doing what they do long enough to understand that all other travelers on the trail are not stupid, blind or deaf, all at the same time, and don’t hardly ever spam ON YOUR LEFT, unless they have a reason, like some dumbass who’s swerving along the trail.  The weekenders scream at everyone as if it’s their problem that they haven’t noticed that the people in front of them 100 yards away have maintained their lines and paces, and need to be reminded to watch out for them, while they travel at speeds, which in a car would definitely kill a pedestrian, but on a bicycle could be pretty lethal too.

For real though, weekender bicyclists are the god damn worst.  Nothing pockmarks a good run session than any time some bicycle douche screams ON YOUR LEFT and whizzes past me way too close to comfort when I’m already running on the edge of the trail, because it’s slightly flatter than the slight slope which is meant to control water on the surface from pooling aboard.  It’s like these cocksuckers all think I actually can pull over to the right any more than I already am at to convenience them, and they’re really lucky I just don’t stick my arm out and start clotheslining from hell every shithead who thinks they’re going to win the Tour de Douchebag.

I’d say as much as I loved being able to get back out onto the Silver Comet for the first time in nearly three years over the Labor Day weekend, that the weekend bicycle douchefucks were the worst thing about my run, it actually turns out that my 10K time crept over the 60-minute mark that I so fervently try to stay underneath.  At 61:14, I’m glad I was able to complete a 10K without any difficult laboring, but I’m pretty dissatisfied that it took me over an hour to accomplish.  I can’t use a lack of training as an excuse this time, considering I’ve been fairly consistent with my maintenance running over the last year, so I guess this is just a sign of age starting to catch up with me, and that I have to make some actual changes if I want to get my speed back up.

Toyota is determined to call everything a Corolla, it seems

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Supposedly in 2027, Toyota will be making an attempt to enter what is new to me, a mini-truck market.  I guess it’s something that’s not even a Tacoma which is already their mid-size truck, and definitely not the full-size Tundra which is their answer to compete with the Ford F-series and Dodge’s lineup of Insurrection-mobiles.  Like I said, I didn’t even know such a market was even in need or demand, but then again the automotive industry is just one giant game of keeping up with the Joneses, so if one maker does it, others will feel the need to get in the game.

Regardless, it appears that Toyota might be calling this to-be-determined mini-truck, a Corolla; the same name as the entry-level econobox that has existed for centuries at this point, as well as the crossover vehicle they just launched a few years ago that they slapped the Corolla name onto as well.  So regardless of the constant name regurgitation, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to stop Toyota from making a Corolla Mini-truck or whatever these, basically El Caminos of the future will be classified as.

All shade aside, I understand Toyota’s rationale for wanting to swindle customers by calling everything they have under the sun a Corolla; historically the Corolla is a solid, safe, reliable and reputable car that there’s a reason has lasted since the dawn of time.  The Hachi-Rokus popularized by Initial D, were basically Corollas, most every kid in my generation and the generation after mine’s first cars were usually Corollas because they were safe, fuel-economical and didn’t quite yet look like the car you get when you’re ready to give up on the rest of your life.

There’s a reason why Lotus borrowed the Corolla engine for their North American Elise models, and there’s a reason why when Toyota got into the crossover game, they immediately slapped the Corolla name tag onto it.

But at the same time, it’s gotten redundant, convoluting, and it’s frankly watering down the Corolla name to basically call everything in the lineup a variant of a Corolla.  Eventually, the name Corolla will be made into a level of trim, or a spin-off brand, like their attempt with Scion, and if Toyota ever gets any bad PR, they’ll probably just rename the whole fuckin company Corolla, since it’s such a name associated with vanilla safety.

Either way, it’ll be interesting to see what shakes out of the trees as far as Toyota’s foray into mini-truck production and marketing.  Frankly, if I had the means, I’d rather get a Japanese kei-car, if I wanted the compact utility of what the Corolla Truck looks like it’ll provide.  It would probably be cheaper even with VAT and import fees, come with less of the fluff and bullshit, and actually serve a purpose, but most importantly, because it wouldn’t be called a Corolla, it would imply that I have yet to give up on my life just yet.

Happy Trails, Bob and Arleen

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Talk about an absolutely brutal week as far as fandoms, nostalgia and symbols of millennial childhood go.  Wrestling fans had to endure the passing of a legend, and a sudden departure of a star that wasn’t anywhere near the heights he was destined for, but then fans of the same television I grew up watching had to bear witness as a legend passed, and an icon that defined basically an entire television series.

I don’t particularly have a ton to say about Bob Barker or Arleen Sorkin, at least nothing new from one of the many countless tributes on the internet there are for either of them, but it hit me enough in the feels when both of them left us to where I still feel like at the very least, documenting it in my own brog to try and emphasize at the very least, my appreciation for them and what they did.

Obviously, at 99 years of age, it’s easy to say that Bob Barker did not leave us to soon, and he most definitely lived a full and successful life and career.  Cue the bittersweet jokes about how if anyone was going to ace the big wheel game of getting as close to 100 without going over, it’s Bob Barker.

But like many, the OG Price Is Right was the show that we all watched when we were home sick from school, or over summer vacations, because at least where I grew up, it was always on at 11 am, obviously not a time in which we could watch it at school.  But Bob Barker’s talent was so effortlessly immense that it didn’t matter if you were nine years old, 29 years old, 59 years old or 79 years old, his delivery, his smooth on-screen charisma and charm made him watchable, made him entertaining and made the show the legendary program it was, all because of him.

I always enjoyed watching the show, playing along with the showcase, screaming at the television when contestants didn’t ever seem to realize that the items on the show were always marked up 5000% and undershot their estimates, and of course loved Plinko.

Drew Carey’s variant of the show is garbage in comparison, and as far as I’m concerned, the show ended when Bob Barker retired.  There was once an incident where a contestant hit the nail on the head in the final showdown at the end of the show, and Drew Carey immediately deadpanned him and killed the episode, because he thought that the guy must have been cheating; most everyone was quick to point out that if that had happened under Bob Barker’s watch, he would have sold it like the greatest achievement of mankind, and made it into a memorable event. 

There are just some things that can never be replaced, and Bob Barker is most definitely one of them.  The show is better off discontinuing, than to let Drew Carey sink the prestige and equity that Bob built with his legendary run.

Continue reading “Happy Trails, Bob and Arleen” →

God Bless Rednecks, Sometimes part 2

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Nope, the following picture is not a photoshop or a sports meme gone awry.  General Booty’s legal name is actually, General Booty.  There is a man living in the United States who’s birth certificate is legitimately General Booty.  General Axel Booty, and not an actual military rank.

I really hope this becomes more of a thing in coming years, because fewer things are more smugly amusing than hearing about rednecks from Texas who have ridiculous names like General Booty or Bumper Pool, whom to their credit of overcoming the criticism that silly names tend to degrade at, manage to get good enough at football to where they can actually try to make a future out of it.

Because I was quite tickled pink six years ago when I found out about Bumper Pool, and I’m quite amused to find out that there’s an actual possible starting quarterback for fucking Oklahoma, named General Booty.  I mean we’re talking about possibly being a successor to guys like Baker Mayfield, Kyler Murray, Jalen Hurts and Spencer Rattler.  General Booty has the opportunity to get his name into the annals of Oklahoma football, and not just because his name is General Booty, although I think he’s already on his way there, regardless of if he ends up as QB1, 2 or even 3.

Regardless of his chances, let’s just do a little mini-dive into this guy named General Booty, and how the hell he came to fruition:

To no surprise, his father is a former player himself, having played at LSU as a wide receiver.  I say no surprise, because it’s the meathead jock type like a guy who played at LSU whom would be so fixated on the military rank of General to where he vowed to name his son by a rank should he have one, and by god did he ever, and therefore we have a legitimate person named General Booty.

Aside from his dumbass dad, it turns out that General Booty is actually related to former USC quarterback John David Booty, who actually made it to the NFL, even if he didn’t last that long in the show, but it goes to show that there’s clearly football in the genetics of the ol’ Booty lineage.

If I’m a betting man, it doesn’t seem likely that he’s going to be QB1 for the Sooners, seeing as how fifth-year senior Dillon Gabriel seems to be the more likely candidate to start, but stranger things have happened in sport.  I imagine that with the awareness of General Booty spreads, he’ll have a Brian Scalabrine-like cult following in the world of sports fandom, and any time he steps onto the field, people will be snickering and chuckling over his name, and by proxy, probably cheer everything he does, just so that they can talk about and spread the word about a guy named General Booty.

A e-tale of two extremes

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I got two emails today; one from New Japan Pro-Wrestling’s shop, and then not long afterward, one from the WWEShop, since I’m a big wrestling mark nerd who has shopped with both companies to where regardless of the checkbox I decline to receive emails, they send me shit anyway.  Normally, I delete them all with light prejudice since I never asked to receive them in the first place, but today I opened both of them, because they smartly put in the subject line, shit about my favorite thing in the world: blets.

In one corner, we have NJPW’s shop advertising the pre-sale of the undisputed NJPW World championship that I’ve made no secret to not being a fan of the design of.  But at an insignificant, paltry $3,500 (three thousand, five hundred dollars), you could be one of probably 1,000 extreme marks to get your hands on an extremely rare, official NJPW replica championship blet.

In all fairness, it is typical impeccable Japanese craftsmanship, and unlike lots of wrestling replica blets that are made from brass or some other cheap shit metal, official NJPW blets are (allegedly) made from actual 24-karat gold, to justify the drink-spitting price tag on them, so in theory, they literally could be purchased as a legitimate investment, should the cost of gold ever spike to Gamestop-like proportions, and an actual owner of one of these bad boys could flip them for some actual profit.

But yeah no, $3,500, I can think of a hundred more constructive or better things to spend that money on, mostly going towards my actual house, a real architectural structure where human beings reside in, instead of a championship blet replica, regardless of how much I love collecting them.  Alternatively, I could get like 7-8 WWE replica blets (at full retail) for that cost, or every single AEW replica blet in one fell swoop, instead of a blet that I don’t like the design of in the first place.

But speaking of WWE replica blets, it brings us to email #2, from the WWEShop.  Because the WWE has caught up to having released almost every single blet in WWF, WWE, WCW and ECW history at some point, as well as having made a legion of bullshit “commemorative” blets for cherry picked former wrestlers, and a confusing array of MLB and SEC athletics tribute blets, it should come as no surprise that the WWE has finally gotten in bed with the NFL, seeing as how there’s a considerable amount of overlap between fans of both companies.

For what will probably be a low-cost (in comparison to NJPW) of $499 per blet, NFL fans can get official WWE replica blets of their favorite team, regardless of if they’re the Kansas City Chiefs or not, seeing as how they’re probably going to embark on a dynasty and win every Super Bowl as long as Patrick Mahomes stays on the squad, but you can get a blet anyway, because if you’re a Redskins Commanders, Lions, Cardinals, Texans or fan of some other hopeless shitty NFL squad, you can get a blet anyway and feel like for two seconds what it feels like to have something that scripted winners get to hold.

UNLESS you’re a Jacksonville Jaguars fan, because in a humorous turn of events, the WWE overlooked for a few minutes that the Jags are also the owners of AEW, and pulled the option from their site, but not before smartasses on the internet made the astute observations first, and of course, got their archive of screencaps and proof of fucking up, because there’s little else the internet loves to do than call out failure.

Either way, I’m broke as fuck, so there’s no chance in hell I’m getting any of these new blets anyway.  I only like blets that actually exist or have existed, and my general cap for any blets is preferred to stick under $500 a pop.  But all the same, I do think it was amusing that both of these drops happened on the same day, and not without its own malaise by the ol’ E for forgetting that one of the NFL teams also reinforces their number one North American competitor’s bankroll.

Dad Brog (#119): Sometimes I’d rather not know

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

For quite some time, I’ve usually been that type of guy that just never goes to the doctor, unless something is actively wrong.  Never did any annual checkups, physicals or anything other than eye exams or going to urgent care for what always seems like prednisone whenever I go.  I often used to say this stemmed from not wanting to miss out on work on account of the long stretch when I was freelancing and contracting, and when I wasn’t working then I wasn’t earning, but the truth is that even when I had landed full-time work with actual benefits, I still didn’t go then either, even if I were paying for it.

Then I got married, and that didn’t really change, except for the fact that I now had a wife that encouraged me to go, but I still made excuses and dragged my feet and resisted going, because I just didn’t really want to.  I felt fine, I exercised regularly, and I didn’t eat like a shithead too much, so I never felt like it was worth going since I felt fine, strong and healthy.

But then I had children, and I crossed into 40, so I finally relented and made the effort to at the very least, have an annual, just to make sure things were copacetic.  And last year, it was about what I had suspected, I was pretty much fine, with no real concerns.  I had little reason to think it was going to be any different this year, but if that were the case then I wouldn’t be writing this post now, would I?

The TL;DR is that it turns out that I’ve put on a not-insubstantial amount of weight, and my blood pressure is kind of high.  The thing is that despite the weight gain, my clothes all fit the same, save for some tightness in the chests of my shirts, but my pants all still fit, I still use the same rung on my belts, and I don’t really feel any different than I did physically a year ago, or longer.

But I don’t want to be the asshole who gets all “uuhhhhhh muscle weighs more than fat brah” and humble brag that I’ve been hitting the weights, and that my weight gain is solely based on the fact that I’ve been going to the gym with consistency over the last two years, versus the nearly two-year stretch in which I dropped a lot of muscle mass because of COVID affecting my ability to hit a gym.  Of course, I did hit my share of lazy stretches where my household eats a bunch of fast food or dines out/takes out more than we really should, but I do like to believe that some of my weight gain really is having put on some muscle mass back on over the last year.

The bigger thing though, is the blood pressure reading, that was high enough to where the tech and my doctor wanted to point it out as being high.  My knee-jerk reaction was to ask just how much correlation there is between BP and stress, to which the answer was a high one, and I feel like I already know why I’m having elevated blood pressure.

Continue reading “Dad Brog (#119): Sometimes I’d rather not know” →